Lowering his head, Michael ran through the corridor towards the stairs in an attempt to avoid the calls of the portraits. Thankfully, Gerald seemed to have been distracted by something else—not having the time to try and convince him to become his disciple again.
Upon making it to the stairs, he let out a sigh of relief—feeling as if he'd dodged a bullet.
His stomach rumbled, reminding him that he'd yet to break his fast.
Maybe I'll treat myself with pancakes this morning, he thought, suddenly in a good mood.
As Michael descended the stairs, he hummed a tune—his thoughts light and easy for the first time in a long while. Perhaps it was the unexpected compliment from Magnus, or the fact that he wanted to believe what the guy said was true, but either way, he decided to enjoy it for once.
