𝐕𝐈 - 𝐀𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐡

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The next morning arrived with the soft light of dawn filtering through the windows, casting a warm glow across the room. The fire had long since died out, leaving behind the faint smell of smoke and embers. I blinked groggily, realizing I was still on the couch curled up under the blanket. My head had slipped from Agnis's shoulder at some point. He, too, was slumped comfortably beside me.


"Good morning, sleepyheads." Syran's voice echoed around the room. I rubbed my eyes to see him standing by the door. He's dressed in casual clothes that seemed out of place on him as I'm used to him wearing something more formal. Even in his simplicity, he still had that air of authority that made the room feel smaller.


Agnis stirred beside me, letting out a small groan. "Morning already?" He yawned, clearly didn't sound like a morning person at all.


Syran chuckled, stepping further into the room. "Well, you two did fall asleep watching ghost stories like a pair of kids at a sleepover. Hardly surprising."


Oh right- I must've passed out at some point. My body ached slightly, the kind of ache that comes from sleeping in an awkward position for too long. There's a strange comfort in it, however. Like I hadn't just fallen asleep—I had well rested.


"You were out like a light." Agnis said, teasing me as he ruffled my hair. "Guess you were more tired than you let on."


Syran walked towards the small table near the kitchen. I noticed plates set out with breakfast already prepared. The smell of freshly cooked eggs and warm toast filled the air, making my stomach growl almost immediately. Syran glanced over his shoulder with a faint smile on his lips.


"I made breakfast." he said as he gestured toward the plates. "Omelette with tomato sauce, Agnis's favourite."'


Agnis laughed, already getting up while stretching his arms. "You're always too good at cooking, Syran. Sometimes I think you missed your calling as a chef." He winked at me as if letting me in on some private joke between them.


I sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes as I looked towards the table. The omelette looked perfect, with just the right amount of crispness around the edges and a smooth layer of rich tomato sauce drizzled artfully on top. It was the kind of breakfast that looked like it belonged in a fancy restaurant and not a cosy firelit room after a night of strange conversations and sleepless thoughts.


"Thanks for the food." I mumbled, feeling a strange sense of gratitude that I couldn't quite put into words.


I sat myself down and took my first bite of the omelette. I was surprised by how good it tasted. The blend of flavours is perfect, the sauce is tangy but not overpowering and the eggs are cooked to perfection.


As we ate, the TV played softly in the background on a news broadcast.


"There was an incident at the large aquarium in downtown last night, resulting in a significant flood. Fortunately, no fatalities have been reported, though several individuals sustained minor injuries." the news anchor reported, her voice calm and measured as images of the flooded aquarium flashed across the screen. "Investigators are still determining the cause of the structural failure."

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