{Elira}
~**^**~
His words rumbled against my cheek, his chest rising and falling steadily.
I could feel it—the anger pouring off him in waves. Lennon wasn’t just angry for my sake; he was furious.
It was in the way his jaw tightened, the way his fingers brushed protectively down my back, and how his body tensed as though ready to defend right there.
I blinked back the rest of my tears. "Please... don’t be mad," I whispered into his shirt. "I already feel bad enough."
He exhaled deeply, then pulled back slightly to look in the eye. His touch was warm as he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.
"I’m not mad at you," he said, his voice low and gentle now. "I’m mad at them. And at the fact that this school, for all its prestige, still has people who think they get to decide your worth based on a ten-second show."
I looked away, but he gently nudged my chin back.
"Let’s go see Professor Mira," he said. "Now. If sothing’s wrong, we’re going to figure it out. Together."
I hesitated for only a breath. Then I nodded.
I didn’t even care about siesta ti anymore. What was rest to soone who couldn’t sleep anyway?
How could I even think of a break when all I could feel was the fear that I might truly have nothing inside ?
Only people with no battles in their hearts got to lie down and rest in the middle of the day.
Not .
"Okay," I said, patting my skirt down. "Let’s go."
Lennon gave a small, reassuring nod. And as he turned to lead the way, I followed, each step a little steadier than the last.
---
As we walked in silence, I felt Lennon’s gaze on , then the slight shift of weight as he readjusted the notebooks in his arms. I turned to him and held out my hands.
"I will carry those," I said softly.
He quirked a brow. "You sure?"
"Yes." I nodded quickly. "I don’t want people looking and wondering why a professor’s carrying a student’s books."
His mouth tilted upward in an amused smile. "Let them wonder."
"No, seriously," I pressed, gently tugging the books from his hold. "It’s already hard enough trying not to draw attention."
He gave them up easily, chuckling. "Alright, alright. Have it your way."
As I hugged the books to my chest, I silently thanked whatever higher force had kept anyone from spotting him hugging earlier.
The last thing I needed was whispers twisting what had already been such an awful day.
Just then, Lennon glanced at my arms and nodded ahead. "Let’s stop by your locker first. Grab your backpack, save yourself the strain."
I gave a small nod. "Okay."
When we reached the corridor with the rows of lockers, I paused by a side door and turned to him. "Wait here."
He gave a playful side glance. "Should I be worried?"
"Just... please wait here," I said again, this ti with a faint smile.
He put both hands up in mock surrender. "Alright, Miss Mysterious."
I turned and walked away before he could see the small twitch of a smile on my lips.
The truth was, I didn’t want him to see my locker code and ask if there was so aning attached to it. Because if he did... I wouldn’t be able to lie.
I finally stopped in front of my locker, quickly punched in the code, and pulled it open. The tal creaked slightly.
I grabbed my backpack, slipped the books inside, zipped it shut, and then closed the locker with a satisfying thud.
By the ti I walked back to Lennon, his hands were tucked into his coat pockets, his posture relaxed, but his eyes as alert as ever.
"Ready?" he asked.
I nodded. "Yeah."
He led the way through a different hallway this ti, quieter and more polished than the student wings.
I’ve been to this side of ESA before, curtesy of Cambria. But she hadn’t brough through this particular floor since my Horoom Professor’s office wasn’t on it.
The ceilings here were a little higher, the floors smoother, and the walls lined with portraits of past headmasters and founding council mbers.
"We are in the east wing," Lennon said over his shoulder. "Professors’ offices are lined here, depending on their departnts."
Cambria hadn’t told this one, but I believe, the information wasn’t vital. Still, I felt this joy within , plus the comfort that wrapped around my nerves.
He paused briefly in front of a glass door with a brass plate and pointed.
"That’s my office."
Next, he gestured toward the other two doors beside his.
"That’s Rennon’s. And Zenon’s."
I stared. It felt... strange, seeing their nas etched in gold lettering right there in the sa corridor. Sothing about it made them feel so much warmth in my heart.
"It’s nice," I murmured. "That your offices are next to each other."
"Zenon’s idea, actually. He said it made coordination easier," Lennon replied. "But we also each have another office in the administrative wing. Zenon, for example, uses his Dean of Studies office when he’s not teaching."
"Ah." I nodded slowly, trying to absorb it all. "Are they in right now?"
Lennon shook his head. "Nope. They are in another block for a eting."
My heart thudded, but I didn’t know if it was from nerves or relief. Probably both.
Finally, we reached the end of the hallway, and Lennon stopped in front of a pale grey door. A naplate read:
Professor Mira Dalen.
I swallowed. My palms were clammy against the straps of my backpack. Every fear I had about today started bubbling up again.
Lennon lifted his hand and knocked once, twice—then without waiting, he turned the knob and pushed the door open.
My nerves imdiately twisted into a knot.
He stepped inside first, holding the door open for .
"Professor Mira," he said in his calm, professional tone. "Sorry to intrude. I brought soone who needs your help."
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