[center][h1][i][color=6ecff6]|Helena and Henrik|[/color][/i][/h1][/center]

“I’m hungry.” Helena muttered, standing up and stretching her legs out as well as her arms. Henrik stared at her with his eyes narrowed before nodding and standing up as well.

“I’m a little peckish.” Henrik admitted, beginning to walk randomly into the distance. Helena stooped over and picked up a sleeping tiny pig on the ground before following, her arms cradling the pink-black blob that only barely opened his eyes. “Where could we eat?”

“A Lycan.” Helena answered simply, making a beeline for the shirtless man; she could smell the testosterone on him, it nearly oozed from his pores, and so he could only be a Lycan.

“Wait!” Henrik grabbed Helena’s arm, pulling her back. Helena shot him a dirty look, yanking her arm from his grasp. While she didn’t say it, he knew she was thinking it: how dare a Huldrekarl touch her like that. Henrik sighed, running a hand through his hair before pointing at the guy subtly. “Look.”

Helena turned her steel eyes back onto the Lycan only to see another come up to him, after a dog. Though her face remained passive, inside she seethed as she realized it was a female. While she didn’t know the relation between the two, she was not in the mood for competition, and so she strode away, not giving a second glance. Henrik could sense her bad mood, despite nothing changing about her – she still had the cold eyes, the small downward pout of her lips, her eyebrows relaxed, and the natural stagger in her walk. But he knew, he always knew. And he also knew that she could sense the despair that floated among him at her shrug of his hand. 

As if summoned by his thoughts, Helena said over her back, “Stop overthinking.” She didn’t say it as a command or as a plea, but rather as a simple fact.

Before they could take another step, Madame P made her magnificent entrance and Helena and Henrik rolled their eyes in unison. They had heard the whole speech before and found no reason to listen to it anymore. So they made their way towards the dorms, having retrieved their dorm numbers earlier.

“I can’t help it.” Henrik muttered once they were away from the drifting voice of Madame P.

Helena rolled her shoulders, ignoring his comment as she reached for the door. But at that same moment, someone else opened it - a girl with an umbrella - and Helena smoothly slid back.

“You look familiar.” Henrik said, looking at her head from toe. “Have we had a class together?