Lor's first instinct was paranoia.
Is this a trick?
Maybe she was testing him somehow, probing to prove the Guiding Light was just a elaborate scam cooked up by a mediocre student.
Or worse—maybe she was baiting him, luring him into a trap so she could run straight to the headmaster with a scandal that would bury him for good, his reputation shattered beyond repair.
No.
That is not possible.
I am overthinking this.
But then he really looked at her face, studied it in the soft lamplight.
Her auburn hair clung faintly to her temple, damp with a light sheen of sweat, a few strands escaping her bun to frame her flushed features.
Her glasses had slipped halfway down her nose, forgotten in her vulnerability, and her hazel eyes wouldn't quite meet his, darting away like they were afraid of what they might reveal.
