Classes ended with the slow, rhythmic tapping of snow against the windows. The lecture hall emptied quickly, students eager to escape the cold or dive into their own little worlds. But I wasn't in a hurry to leave.
Aeron had already dragged his desk over, slamming it against mine with unnecessary enthusiasm. Emilia and Livia followed, unpacking their lunches—steaming containers of food they somehow always had extra of.
"You're late," I remarked as Livia set a bowl of soup in front of me. She was supposed to come half an hour earlier.
She stuck out her tongue.
...I really can't deal with you.
The scent of spices and warmth curled into the air, mingling with the crisp winter chill seeping through the glass. Outside, snowflakes drifted lazily, painting the world in slow, silent strokes.
I picked up my chopsticks. "...Thanks."
Emilia smiled, small and knowing. "You say that every time."
"And you two refuse repayment every time," I muttered.
