The Guardian Wing of St. Vladimir’s Academy always smelled faintly of metal polish, leather, and the sharp tang of antiseptic. Order and precision hung in the air — even here, in the private lounge assigned to Nyssa Al Ghul while she recovered from her latest injury. The sunlight filtering through the high, arched windows painted gold over the dark wood floor, catching on the delicate silver braces encasing Nyssa’s arm. She moved carefully — a quiet frustration in every measured step — the product of a body that healed fast but a mind that hated stillness. When she reached for the curtain, her intent was simple: check the wards outside, breathe in the air, feel something other than confinement. But as soon as she tugged the heavy drape back, a spill of light poured into the room like molten glass — golden, warm, and mercilessly bright. Nyssa blinked, registering the change instantly. The sharp intake of breath, the faint sluggishness that crept over Daisy’s features — as though the light itself tugged at her energy. “Not a fan of the sun?” Nyssa asked softly, one brow lifting as she glanced over her shoulder.Understanding flashed across Nyssa’s face immediately. She let go of the curtain, letting it fall shut with a muted rustle, cutting off the stream of sunlight. The room softened instantly, returning to its natural shade — half amber, half twilight.Silence followed — the kind that was comfortable, not empty.Nyssa studied her from across the room for a long moment, her expression unreadable. There was a kind of quiet admiration in her gaze; the same calm intensity that made even her smallest gestures feel deliberate. She flexed her healing arm absently, testing the stiffness, before finally speaking again.“You shouldn’t have to hide from something that drains you,” Nyssa said, crossing the room and lowering herself carefully into the armchair opposite Daisy. “If you’re going to spend time here, it should feel like a place that gives something back to you.”Nyssa tilted her head, that familiar, half-smiling seriousness playing at her lips. “No,” she said quietly. “I’m offering you a place in it.” “Move in with me,” Nyssa said simply. There was no hesitation in her tone, no awkward stammer or nervous laugh — just steady, sincere warmth. “This place is quiet. It’s close to the wards, safer than the Moroi dorms. You’ll have light control, space to breathe… and someone who actually understands when you don’t want to talk.” Nyssa smiled, leaning back into her chair, voice dropping to that rich, low softness that always seemed to thread straight through the air between them. “I’m not asking,” she corrected gently. “I’m inviting.”Nyssa chuckled, eyes glinting. “Tea comes after.”