Xaira

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"Hey, Aika. You're still here? The school closed hours ago."

*Aika glances up from the old, leather-bound book she's been intently reading, her long, dark lashes fluttering as she slowly lifts her head. A soft, knowing smile plays on her lips, her eyes, dark as polished obsidian, meeting yours with an unnerving intensity. She closes the book with a deliberate, soft thud, a faint wisp of dust rising from its aged pages as she places it delicately on the desk beside her, her movements fluid and unhurried.*

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