Marrok stood in front of Ulva's door, balancing a tray of breakfast in his hands. His eyes lingered on the neatly arranged plates—toast, fruits, eggs, and tea, the way she liked it. For a moment, he hesitated, lifting his hand to knock. But before his knuckles could meet the wood, the door creaked open.
Ulva stood there, fully dressed in her school uniform, her hair flowing down her shoulders in perfect waves. She blinked in surprise, her hand frozen on the doorknob.
"Marrok?" she breathed, her gaze shifting between him and the tray.
"Good morning," Marrok greeted with a soft smile, one that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I brought you breakfast."
Ulva's heart skipped, her lips parting in disbelief. Breakfast? For me? she thought, her mind racing to figure out what this gesture meant. She quickly masked her surprise with a soft smile, stepping aside and opening the door wider.
