When I opened my eyes, I was in a large room, but I was somewhat suspended in the air. I sat up, disoriented, and felt something slightly cold slide off my shoulder. I caught it with my hands, running my thumb over the surface. Onyx black sheets. Satin onyx black sheets. I felt my face go red in the realization I was in a luxurious canopy bed, the transparent curtains drawn. I honestly didn't want to get up; the many pillows were as soft as clouds, and the sheets molded around me perfectly. But I quietly slipped onto the floor, landing on the plush carpet. Which was as comfortable as the bed. Why was this room so mesmerizing? Everything about it made me want to fall asleep, like the objects were made out of a euphoric material. I glanced at the desk, and walked over to it, noticing Mr. Hall's briefcase. I held back a gasp, my face turning cherry red. This was his room. I slept in Mr. Hall's bed. Trying to regain my senses, I nonchalantly popped open his briefcase, and lifted the lid. I expected his notebook to be in there, but it wasn't. Only papers and supplies. I sighed, standing up. I wouldn't be able to find anything, because I was absolutely embarrassed I was snooping around in the first place. I didn't want Mr. Hall to think I was a stalker or anything. I walked out into the corridor, finding the staircase after a few turns, and I descended them, the delightfully light scent of something in the kitchen wafting up to my nose. I walked through the archway, stepping on the cold tiled floor, to see Mr. Hall at the stove, every few moments putting something on a tray. It smelled heavenly, like he was making a form of ambrosia, seeing he was an impressive cook. I opened my mouth to speak, but he beat me to the punch. "Good morning, Persephone." he said, turning around with the tray in his hands. "…ah, good morning… Ian." I responded quietly. He smiled, and set the tray on the table. "Well, I was going to bring this upstairs, but I see you're awake. Please, sit." he pulled out a chair for me, and I quickly sat, keeping my head down. He had prepared a light breakfast; French toast, faintly drizzled with syrup, topped with a dollop of whipped cream and a strawberry. Next to it was a fresh cup of tea, and a lemon slice neatly sat on the saucer. Well… maybe it wasn't that light. But as I cut into the toast, bringing it to my mouth, I nearly melted. It was amazing! The texture was perfect, it wasn't too hot, and he added the right amount of syrup so I wouldn't have to add more. Mr. Hall smirked, looking at me. "How do you like it?" "What do you think?" I responded, proceeding to scarf everything down. Not so soon after, the plate was empty, and the tea cup had not one drop left inside it. I blinked in surprise, and my face turned red in embarrassment. "…sorry about that…" I mumbled apologetically, knowing I ate way too quickly. "That's alright." he chuckled as I hurriedly stood up. Mr. Hall cleared the tray away, and returned. "Do you mind if I check your hand?" he asked. I had completely forgotten that my hand was injured in the first place. Raising my hand, he gently took it in his own, running his thumb over my palm. I bit my lip, embarrassedly glancing away. "You're not in pain anymore, right?" "No…" I looked at my palm, and he lightly traced the outline of the cross on my skin. "Good. Well, you may have a small mark left, but you should be alright." he mused. I nodded, and after a moment, was extremely aware he was still holding my hand. I took a step back, bumping into the counter behind me, and he smirked, walking in front of me in one stride. I gripped my hands on the countertop, while he laughed at my reaction, leaning close. "What's got you on edge, Persephone?" he murmured, and my heart practically burst out of my chest. "Y-you…" I stuttered. Ian gently planted a kiss at the base of my neck, sending my heart rate through the roof. Finding that i couldn't back up anymore, I lithely hopped up onto the counter. Why was I so shy, all of a sudden? Seemingly reading my thoughts, Ian arched an eyebrow at me, grinning. "Nervous?" "N-no." I responded defiantly, but my inability to speak without stuttering gave me away. His grin widened, and I couldn't stand it anymore. I hastily reached up to grab his shirt collar, and pulled Ian close, pressing my lips against his. His hands cupped my face, instantly making my cheeks heat up. I ignored my protesting heart beat, burying my hands in his hair. He smelled… like a spice of some sort, mixed with cinnamon and pure sweetness. It was hard to define such a contradicting scent, but I knew it was irrisristable. Suddenly, I felt Ian's lips tense, and I pulled away, right as the doorbell rang. He knew somebody was coming, like when we were in the classroom. How he did, I had no idea. "You should g-go answer that…" I mumbled, untangling myself from him. He smirked at my blush, before running a hand through his ruffled hair, walking to the front door. Ian opened the door, and I heard a voice I couldn't quite recognize. Then again, in the state I was in, I couldn't make sense of anything. He nodded back to the kitchen, and stepped to the side, revealing who it was. Ms. Hall. --------------------------------------------------- update! A make out session! Satin sheets! Surprise appearances! And why is P at Mr. Hall's house?!