Room 415, Friday Morning
The book of dirty poetry Cassandra had confiscated from Garik was still... there. On her nightstand. Mocking her. Moreso now that her one class of the day had finished and she would have all the time in the world to stare at it while it mocked. And it mocked fiercely.
Perhaps she could just take a single peek?
No. She had taken it from Garik to ensure he returned to doing his work the way he was intended to. It was merely here for safekeeping. Yes.
... if this resulted in her spending most of the remainder of the morning sighing in the general direction of the book as she attempted to focus on cleaning her bracers, well. It did.
[[ open post, open door ]]
Perhaps she could just take a single peek?
No. She had taken it from Garik to ensure he returned to doing his work the way he was intended to. It was merely here for safekeeping. Yes.
... if this resulted in her spending most of the remainder of the morning sighing in the general direction of the book as she attempted to focus on cleaning her bracers, well. It did.
[[ open post, open door ]]