{Elira}
~**^**~
The old archive building smelled faintly of dust and polished wood, its tall shelves lined with scrolls, tomes, and thick binders that looked like they hadn't been opened in years.
But what surprised me the most wasn't the silence or the grandeur of the place—it was seeing Rennon, already inside, waiting near a long wooden table.
He looked like he belonged there, calm and quiet in his fitted black turtleneck and ash-grey slacks, a stack of papers set to one side and two lunchboxes opened neatly in front of him.
The softest light from the narrow arched windows fell across his glasses.
When he saw me step in, he offered a small smile.
"Hi," I greeted, closing the door gently behind me.
"You're right on time," he said. "How was your morning class?"
I walked closer and shrugged lightly, the edge of a smile tugging at my lips. "It was fine. Actually… Lennon took the class. He didn't tell me he would."
