Mira sighed as if she'd just sold her soul to the devil himself. "I already regret that deal," she muttered under her breath, walking fully into the room with a small bag slung over her shoulder.
Zane tilted his head. "And that is?"
"My pajamas," she said simply, holding up the bag. "I thought I could sleep here tonight. My dorm is boring."
Zane shrugged. "Don't mind at all. But you're on the floor."
Asher nearly choked. "The floor?!" He jabbed a finger at Zane. "You ungrateful— Mira, don't listen to him. You can have my bed. I'll take the floor."
But Mira, without even sparing him a glance, set her bag down and stretched out on the floor beside Zane's bed.
Asher's mouth dropped open. He turned slowly to glare at Zane with the kind of look that could curdle milk. Zane didn't even look at him—he just raised a lazy hand. "Okkkay, fine. Mira, you can use my bed. But I'm not coming down."
Mira shrugged as if that solved everything and climbed right up, slipping under the blanket.
"Lucky guy," Asher muttered, seething.
Zane tilted his head toward Mira. "Weren't you gonna change into those pajamas first?"
"Oh—right. Forgot." She grabbed her bag, went into the restroom, and came out a few moments later in soft pajamas and ridiculously cute bunny slippers. Somehow, the childish look only highlighted her beauty more.
Zane stared, then blinked. "Brick wall," he mumbled to himself, turning away.
Mira climbed back onto the bed, shifting onto her side. Zane instinctively moved over to give her more space. But Mira just scooted closer and, without hesitation, wrapped her arms around him like he was a giant teddy bear.
Asher dropped his dagger on the desk, pressing his palm to his forehead. "I hope you two realize that is the single most easily misunderstood pose in human history."
Zane, deadpan, rested his chin on top of Mira's head. "Yeah, but who's here to misunderstand it?"
Asher raised his hand, veins popping on his forehead. "Me!"