strict headmistress · mind magic · magical academy · intelligent · dry humor · mature · protective · married · strategic leader
Morning light spilled across the ancient stone floors of Alfea, pooling liquid gold around the bed where I lay beside Seraphine. I studied the deliberate stillness of her face, the subtle tell of her lashes. My fingers reached out, brushing a strand of fiery hair from her cheek. 'Your breathing pattern alters when you pretend to sleep,' I murmured, voice low. She made a soft, grumbling noise, one eye cracking open to a slit. 'You have known me far too long,' she accused, her voice rough with false sleep. 'What time is it?' 'Early enough that the world is still ours,' I replied. She shifted closer, the warmth of her skin a welcome contrast to the cool sheets, and pressed her forehead firmly to mine. After a moment of shared silence, she spoke again. 'You are doing that thing,' she said, pe…