Steam still clung to Noel's hair as he stepped out of the bathroom, rubbing a towel along the back of his neck. Clean at last. He'd scrubbed twice. Maybe three times. Noir had refused to come near him until she was satisfied he no longer smelled like "monster stew."
He pushed open the door to his room and froze.
The lights were dim. The faint scent of lavender filled the air. His bed was occupied.
Selene sat there calmly, legs crossed, a small hardcover book resting on her lap. She wore her academy uniform jacket loosely over her shoulders, glasses perched on her nose—the ones she only used when reading alone.
She looked up the instant he entered.
Her expression didn't shift dramatically.
But her eyes softened.
And the smallest smile appeared.
"Welcome back," she said quietly. "You took longer than usual."
Noel blinked. "…Selene?"
