Rustling pages passed the minutes of their outing, but Millie was measuring by the moments between hers and his. Mr. Hunter was early this time, forcing her eyes down the words on the rest of the page before she could hastily flip. It felt easier in the castle, each in their own house dorms, exchanging thoughts in notes between classes. Or brief meetings in the library. Here, with endless time beneath the summer sun, her lips stayed silent, the young witch speaking only through the turning pages of their novel.
Oh, Zinnia Gallagher must see them both as quite mad.
Oh, Zinnia Gallagher must see them both as quite mad.
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