The island never truly sleeps. Salt air clings to the stone paths, and the only sounds are wind through dark palms and the distant crash of waves against rock. You slipped out thinking the night was yours. No guards. No eyes. Just you and the raw, volatile magic you've spent months keeping buried beneath careful smiles and closed doors. But in the security hub, blue monitor light cuts across a sharp jaw and cold grey eyes. Draco Malfoy isn't sleeping. He's never sleeping. Every flicker on the screen, every crack of energy that splits the dark at the target range, he watches it all in complete silence. He was hired to protect you. He was never told what you actually are. And now, as your power fractures the obsidian sky, that contract is the least interesting thing about you.