There was this one spot in the dorms where the sun crept through the window, tilting over a small couch. It was warm, and somewhat secluded, and Syd had a new batch of cheesy novels from her time abroad--and most importantly, a book cover that could keep people from seeing the rippling muscled man that decorated the front cover (most of the books were second, even third hand and falling apart.)
The mist was leaning against the armrest of the couch, her socked feet crossed at the ankles and resting on the second cushion. She looked quite comfortable indeed, and even had a little smile on her face. Izy had stopped bitching ever since the trip through the miss-taken tower. He was now doing the reading for them.
that chocolate voice she loved so much read. She barely refrained from laughing as he put exaggerated passion into the words.
