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- OOC First Name
- Ghost
The previous several months have been rather pleasant, even for someone like Kalif Styx. Ever since he asked Jacqueline to dinner, the two haven't been separated for long. The thought of being with another was extremely uncomfortable, but only at first. After the Valentine's Dance, Kalif seemed to be less tense about the growing relationship between Jacqueline and himself. She was teaching with him as well. He did hope that would not bring up complications, especially with students that have never seen their Head of House participating in school events, let alone chaperone or even leave his office for any such occasion. He had not done that since he started teaching many decades ago. The weekend came and went, and it was almost time to be back at the school for another round of teaching. He opened his eyes to the familiar quiet of his manor. With the kids out of the place, the silence deafened all around. Sleeping in was not what Kalif did often, but something that he felt he needed to do more. He looked to his side to see that his companion, or whatever she was meant to be called, was already awake.
It was rare for anyone to ever see someone like Kalif ever sleep. When he did, it was incredibly deep and quiet, almost as if he were dead. He never tossed and turned either. Someone could move his body and he would not wake up to it. At least, not in his own home. At the school, a fly could land ten feet from him and he would stir awake. While at home, Kalif was more relaxed than ever. He sat up on his bed, the dark, emerald green comforters sliding off of his form. Even after the night, he still wore a full set of clothes to sleep. The Slytherin Head of House stood up, and grabbed his robes from the rack next to the bed and wrapped them around himself, covering the scar that once labeled him as a Death Eater. That life was very much behind him, though he believed in the ideals. The leader at the time was too blind by one other. It was a royal shame.
It was rare for anyone to ever see someone like Kalif ever sleep. When he did, it was incredibly deep and quiet, almost as if he were dead. He never tossed and turned either. Someone could move his body and he would not wake up to it. At least, not in his own home. At the school, a fly could land ten feet from him and he would stir awake. While at home, Kalif was more relaxed than ever. He sat up on his bed, the dark, emerald green comforters sliding off of his form. Even after the night, he still wore a full set of clothes to sleep. The Slytherin Head of House stood up, and grabbed his robes from the rack next to the bed and wrapped them around himself, covering the scar that once labeled him as a Death Eater. That life was very much behind him, though he believed in the ideals. The leader at the time was too blind by one other. It was a royal shame.