Lor stood at the threshold of the academy, the morning fog clinging to the stone gates like a reluctant lover, the first rays of sun piercing through in golden shards that danced across the cobblestones.
The campus loomed quiet and dignified beyond the iron arches, students trickling in around him like scattered pieces of a dream still forming, their whispers and footsteps a soft symphony of the day's beginning.
Then—
Two warm hands slid over his eyes from behind, soft and insistent, blocking out the world in an instant.
"Guess who?" came a playful whisper at his ear, her breath hot and teasing, carrying that familiar citrus-spice scent that wrapped around him like a vice.
Lor didn't flinch.
The voice, the perfume, the bold touch—it was all her.
"Kiara," he said flatly, his tone cool, detached, as if the word carried no weight.
