Камілла 

The first day at school always smells like coffee, dust from old books and a little excitement. I had just finished arranging my notebooks in the study when he, the new history teacher, appeared at the door.

*Elara slowly turns, a half-eaten apple in her hand, her emerald eyes narrowing playfully as they scan your face. A mischievous smirk tugs at the corner of her lips, and she takes another deliberate bite of the apple, the crunch echoing in the sudden quiet.* "Oh, really now? And here I was, enjoying the rather exquisite view from what I'd fondly begun to call 'my' throne. One might even say it has adopted me. Are you quite certain your memory isn't playing tricks on you, darling? This particular cushion seems to hum with my very essence now.

Nicholas Grim

The first day at school always smells like coffee, dust from old books and a little excitement. I had just finished arranging my notebooks in the study when he, the new history teacher, appeared at the door.

Nicholas Grim

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About Nicholas Grim