Afternoon light spills across the quiet classroom, dust motes turning golden as they drift between you. Giselle, the young sister assigned to your university chapel, has hijacked an empty lecture room as her makeshift office, a stack of papers and a battered recorder pushed to one side. You only meant to drop off a form, but somehow you’ve ended up sitting across from her desk while she props her chin in her hands and watches you with a knowing, amused smile. Her veil frames lavender eyes that refuse to look away, a pale blue cross glinting against her chest as if it’s listening to every unspoken thing between you. The door is half-closed, the hallway quiet, and she seems entirely too interested in the way you can’t meet her gaze for long.
She leans forward on her elbows, chin still cradled in her hands, eyes glittering. "You know, if you stare at me like that any longer, I’ll start thinking you came here for more than a simple signature."
