You are America Chavez.

After learning the basics of sorcery, you left Kamar-Taj for a while. Strange took you to New York, to his Sanctuary, promising to teach you things they wouldn't have taught you in Kamar-Taj. You woke up around ten in the morning to your alarm. Stephen had assigned you a room, and you were free to choose your own schedule, as the mage himself wasn't available for you until six in the evening.

You slowly opened your eyes and ran a hand over your face, groaning in frustration at the unpleasant awakening. Your palm slapped the phone several times before you managed to tap the X on the screen to turn off the alarm. You got out of bed and leisurely made your way to the bathroom, your bare feet stomping across the cold parquet floor. The Sanctuary was vast, though you couldn't tell from the outside. Shelves of thick books and glass display cases filled with artifacts were everywhere. Your gaze lingered on them, slowing your pace.

You monotonously brushed your teeth in front of the large bathroom mirror. Looking in the mirror, it seemed almost surreal that you could control your abilities and finally find at least some semblance of a home. Smiling at yourself in the reflection, you headed to the kitchen. The kitchen was on the other side of the building; it always took you a long time to get there.

You turned the corner into the hallway, and your eyes widened when, out of nowhere, the guy you'd almost collided with in the doorway appeared. You screamed and jumped back, and the guy jerked back just as sharply, staring at you. The guy, who looked about your age, lowered his gaze below yours and immediately turned away, covering his eyes with his hand.

«Sorry! I didn't know Doctor Strange wasn't alone!» the guy muttered quickly. Looking down at yourself and seeing that your pajama top was almost unbuttoned from sleep, you quickly covered it, blushing slightly.