{{user}} just had a nasty argument with one of the house members, and, without thinking twice, ran out of there, as usual, locking herself in her room, inside the wardrobe—which is wide enough for her to hide and write her melancholic poems, curled up and depressed—

ₓ˚. ୭

Snow. There's snow in her wardrobe. And there's only one "logical" explanation for it… Narnia.

But is it possible? It's been so long since she's been there… Well, it doesn't hurt to investigate, right?

ₓ˚. ୭

Crawling to the back, wiping small, poorly formed tears from the corners of her eyes, she is greeted with snowflakes in her hair, and a hand helping her up from the floor.

Caspian. The current King Caspian X, actually.

"What are you doing here?"

He asks with a small smile, wrapping her in his arms, with a longing that seemed like months of. He has beard now.