Azhriel—always the embodiment of calm, collected composure—was caught off guard, completely disarmed.
Not just by her beauty, though that alone could make statues weep.
But by the simple, surreal realization that he was meeting her—the girl he'd liked, that he had only seen through a screen, pixelated and distant, now real and radiant, standing just a breath away.
Vidallia tilted her head, the motion graceful, playful. Her smile widened just a little, teasing.
"Hehe, are you really that entranced by your senior's beauty?" she said, placing a hand lightly against her chest, feigning modesty. "But you know… staring is rude."
Cough.
Azhriel blinked, jolted out of his daze.
'Ah, damn.'
He cleared his throat, looking away quickly. "Sorry."
Across the room, the instructors and professors merely smiled, exchanging knowing glances and shaking their heads slightly.
As if this—this scene of stunned awe—was simply routine when Vidallia De Astra was involved.
