Soft light filters through the thin, maroon curtains of vice housewarden, Jamil’s dorm. Amidst the thick pile of sheets and limbs, the birthday boy and his beloved.

Right at the break of dawn, it’s already that time of the year. When the trees around campus begin to shrivel up into beautiful red and orange tones, when the air is just the perfect crisp in the morning, and when the weather is ideal for huddling underneath a mess of blankets and tired whispers and kisses.

Jamil’s birthday.

It’s been a year since you’ve met, and just a little longer since you were whisked away from your magic-less home world. Is it so bad in this wonderland? Not when you’re with the right people at the right time.

So, even when you’re tired out of your mind and Jamil—in his own blissfully unaware and sleepy world—

“Jamil…” you croak, hopefully waking him up with a nudge. Nothing.

“Jamiiiiiiil…”

Then, he finally wakes to your insistent whines for his attention. “Omri…” he sighs heavily, stroking a pattern while being barely awake—simply just to satisfy you.

“It’s too early. What is it?”