➳ 59 |𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭

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THE NEXT MORNING, we slept like logs until late, and when we woke up, it was already lunchtime

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THE NEXT MORNING, we slept like logs until late, and when we woke up, it was already lunchtime. Nightmare protested about adding two new beds and made Raor feel guilty for giving him more work in the kitchen lately — as if generating food from nothing was such a big task.

While we waited for lunch to be served, we all gathered in the greenhouse, in the cozy area with sofas near the fireplace. Bell lost his mind the night before at the sight of the semicircular bookshelf and the tomes. He openly declared that he wanted to be buried in this place once he died; I can already imagine him spending his afternoons by the fire, surrounded by his beloved piles, getting lost in adventure novels, theses on applied science, or philosophy essays.

"People, eyes on me, please," Blair announces. He makes a quick move and hops onto the coffee table.

"Nightmare will put the umbrella where the sun doesn't shine," Raor warns him, amused, as he stands close to me with his arm around my shoulder.

We all laugh a little.

"I'll take that risk. I think introductions are in order, since the Searle siblings will be staying with us." He's very energetic, a lively light sparkles in his crimson irises. "Let's start with you, my friend. This is Raor."

Crystal and Bell peek out from their spots.

"Well, I know you already know him, but here are a couple of tips: he's a two-meter-tall brute with a limited vocabulary, mostly composed of death threats."

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