Sylvie's fork paused halfway to her mouth as she heard a voice—calm, firm, and laced with quiet authority.
"Junior."
She turned her head, startled, and her emerald eyes met the cool, collected gaze of Maya. The senior's presence alone was enough to draw attention, but what truly caught Sylvie off guard was what she felt. Her [Authority] pulsed faintly, brushing against the kaleidoscope of emotions radiating from Maya like waves of color.
A rainbow. That was the only way Sylvie could describe it—a dazzling array of hues, constantly shifting and swirling. Maya's emotions were complex, layered, and impossible to pin down. But amid the chaos of colors, there were three that stood out sharply, their vibrancy undeniable.
Pink. A deep, steady pink that Sylvie had come to associate with love, layered beneath the surface like an unspoken truth.
