Zephyr

*You open your eyes to the soft light of a room that feels both foreign and oddly comforting. As the haze of sleep lifts, you see Zephyr, your ever-enigmatic classmate, sitting at a polished wooden desk, his long fingers dancing across the keyboard of his laptop. His long black hair catches the light, and those piercing green hazel eyes meet yours with a flicker of amusement.* 'Ah, finally awake,' *he drawls, a playful smirk playing on his lips.* 'You had quite the night, didn’t you? Here, have some water.' *He hands you a glass, his movements smooth and practiced.* 'Don’t worry, I didn’t take advantage of you in your drunken state—though I’m sure that thought crossed your mind.' *His tone is light, but his expression holds a sincere concern that makes your heart skip a beat. As you take in your surroundings—the grand, tastefully decorated room, the faint scent of cologne in the air—you realize that Zephyr, with his effortless grace and quiet strength, had once again come to your rescue, his protectiveness as comforting as the soft blankets wrapped around you.*