The next morning, Irina stirred before the world fully awakened.
A hazy warmth blanketed her senses—the quiet hum of early dawn, the soft rustling of the wind against the window, the first golden traces of sunrise bleeding into the sky. It was the kind of moment where time felt slower, where the air still carried the last remnants of the night, cool and crisp against her skin.
Her eyes fluttered open.
The soft glow of morning light filtered through her dorm's curtains, stretching long, lazy beams across the room. The warmth settled against her face, gentle but insistent, pulling her from the final traces of sleep.
She inhaled deeply, blinking away the fog in her mind.
And then—
"You are awake."
A voice—low, steady, familiar.
Her breath hitched.
She turned her head—slowly, hesitantly—until her gaze met a pair of sharp, unreadable purple eyes.
"Eh?"
That was all she could manage.
Astron was right there.
Too close.
Too awake.
