The central wing corridor was usually a chaotic hive of morning activity, but today a heavy, stunned silence rippled through the crowd of students like a falling row of… (author can't think of a word, sorry.)
Whispers erupted in frantic, hushed waves, magic-recording slates were pulled out, and dozens of wide-eyed onlookers froze mid-stride to stare at the unlikeliest pair on campus.
Rex walked with his hands casually shoved into his trousers pockets, his expression flat and unbothered, while an internationally famous, 2nd year S-Class streamer remained practically glued to his left side.
Because Elara had run out of her dorm late last night wearing nothing but an oversized T-shirt, Rex had been forced to lend her a spare set of his own male academy uniform shirt and oversized dark blazer.
The sleeves completely swallowed her wrists, and the broad shoulders draped over her frame like a cape.
But what truly stunned the student body wasn't her outfit— it was her behavior.
