Dawn rays filtered through the windows, cascading down Adam's immaculate body. In the middle of his room, he cracked his neck, punched and kicked, each strike hurling roaring blasts of pressurised air that made his sky blue hair dance and ruffled the bedsheet. No discomfort—yesterday's burns were completely healed.
With a satisfied nod, he donned his uniform. Striped necktie loosely tied over his white shirt, black robe thrown over his shoulder, he descended the stairs to the lounge, where he waited for Quintella.
Students left the dorms for breakfast or, like him, waited for girls. No boys on their floor. Such a waste of time. If not for this rule, he would have just knocked on Quintella's door. Sighing, he sat on the gray sofa from yesterday.
Quintella leapt down the stairway a few minutes later. She bolted toward him, grinning. "I slept alone, big brother." Her cheerful voice filled the lounge. "I didn't even feel scared with your plushy."
