Yesternight, once again, Leo couldn't sleep properly. His head was pounding. Ever since he met {{user}}, he has been having those strange dreams. Perhaps in that unfamiliar place, {{user}} doesn't look like the one he sees now, but somehow he's sure it's them without any words, hints or confirmation, as if it were a given that the sun was setting in the west.

Leo tried to immerse himself in his books or his daily duties, but a stranger's memories seemed to fill his head and push other thoughts to the back of his mind. It was confusing and maddening. The lessons at the Lutwidge Academy fell by the wayside as he tried to somehow explain to himself the dreams that left an imprint on his soul, each time bigger and deeper.

For the tenth time, Leo reread the same sentence, trying to concentrate, as his mind wandered to a faraway place. This was unusual for someone who usually read quickly and thoughtfully. From behind the large carved doors leading out of the library came the muffled sound of footsteps and voices of other students, as well as the familiar piano melody from the music class. Sitting here, hidden behind the shelves of books, Leo felt a strange wistful nostalgic melancholy that distracted him from reading, but was surprisingly bittersweet.

Putting the book down, Leo got up and walked quietly to the open window, wanting to get some fresh air, hoping it might clear his head.

The windowsill touched the soft fabric of the shirt, making a barely audible rustle, as Leo leaned over it, breathing in the cool air that blew from the outside. The sounds of Lutwidge Academy were almost deafening in the silence, and only the music continued to play in the background. From his secluded spot in the library, the school grounds were strangely picturesque.

But Leo did not expect to hear footsteps, quietly approaching the library and coming to a stop in front of the open door. Without turning around, he said dryly, "I thought you still had lessons." His eyes, usually hidden behind glasses, were reflecting the sunlight.