Farah Dowling WRITOBER 2O22

This is the sign you've been looking for

"What were you doing in my office?"

"I..."

"Are you the one responsible for Callum?"

"Your previous assistant?" you ask, surprised. "No. What do you mean, responsible? What happened to him?" you continue, your eyes going back and forth between Headmistress Dowling and professor Silva.

"Farah, stop being noble. Prod her mind and be done with it. We need to know if she was searching for Ros-"

"Yes, I know" interrupts miss Dowling. "But I don't-"

"Please don't look into my mind" you beg, suddenly terrified. You are in your final year, yes, but you're an air fairy and, as powerful and skilled as you are, you have very little experience in defending your mind against magical attacks.

"That didn't sound suspicious at all" comments Silva, looking darkly at you. "And why did you work so hard to become her new assistant, mh? What were your motives?"

You know you are blushing, and there's nothing you can do to prevent it.

"Farah, tell me she doesn't look guilty" he insists.

"I know, I know" says miss Dowling, looking away from you. "I just can't believe that she, among all people-"

The disappointed hurt you hear in her voice breaks your heart.

"Wait, I don't know what you're thinking, but I didn't do anything wrong! I mean," you amend, "yes, I broke into your office but, I swear, I had no bad intentions-"

"You can see how that is becoming harder and harder to believe" interjects Silva, not without kindness. "Farah. Just do it" he says then in a definitive tone.

The Headmistress sighs. "All right."

She looks up and her eyes search for yours. A moment later you can feel her presence in your mind.

You hold her gaze as she pushes around quickly, as though she can't bear to be there more than she has to, finding discussions you've had with your friends about her lessons, then a conversation with Bloom, a first year, that you've had the night of the Specialists' party – her hostile, saying that Dowling was hiding something, and you defending the Headmistress on principle.

She flicks across memories of the latest gossips about the Burned Ones and about her past as a soldier; you try to distract her with more scenes about her classes along the years, but she brushes past them in no time.

Suddenly she steps forward and grabs your left arm, murmuring "Stop it. You don't have the ability to resist me yet. You are only postponing the inevitabl-"

She has stopped mid-sentence as she has perceived the wave of emotion that overtook your body when she touched you, and now she's impatiently following its traces like a wolf, for she knows that a strong emotion is the best way to break down psychic walls.

In a matter of seconds, horrified, you feel her mind slow down as she reaches one of the memories you were so afraid of. It's about the first day you met her, when you noticed the loveliness of her hair. You start to quietly cry as you brace yourself for what she will see next.

There's the day you spent a whole lesson staring at her hands after noticing her tattoo. There's the first time you imagined to kiss her, and then the first time you touched yourself thinking about her. There's tons of vivid fantasies, and in each one you are kissing, touching, licking an imaginary Farah, entering her with your fingers and tongue, sucking her until she screams your name before she reciprocates, her head between your thighs and her golden hair loose, your hands tangling in it.