Page 55 of Gift from the Tree

Thank fuck I won’t have to relearn time.

Looking at the timekeeper, it’d be what I’d consider 8:00 a.m. I have until “quarter to midmorning” according to Tillman, to get to breakfast, so 8:45 a.m. I can soak for thirty minutes, dress in ten, and be at breakfast in five. No problem.

Knowing my timeline, I hustle on to my room and go straight to the bathroom. The waterfall runs nonstop. I can adjust the temperature but not cut it off and every time I come in here and see it, I can’t help but think what the water bill would be if there were one. When I asked Draken why it constantly ran, he just said, “It’s magic.” It’s on my list of random shit to ask Gaster.

Stripping down, I pour some of the healing oil Gaster left for me in here and climb in, sighing as I sink down. I begin thinking about how classes are going to go as I start washing. My Enchantments class and Air elemental class rotate every other day. As do my combat class and E.F. training. The only class I have every day is my mornings with Gaster. Since the classes rotate, I won’t be spending all day, every day working out, but it’s still going to be extremely physically demanding. I really hope Tillman isn’t about to be that brutal in class as well. Yuck.

Maybe he’ll cut down on the morning training if I can catch up in class.

Fat chance with that dictator.

Hearing the buzz of the timekeeper going off, letting me know I’m at the twenty-five-minute mark, I go ahead and get out. I’ve been wanting to see what I can do with my air element that’s small enough to try alone, without the risk of killing myself, so as I step on the bath rug, instead of wrapping my towel around me, I close my eyes and focus on where my element sits in my chest.

When I feel the tug, I call it forward slowly, picturing a stream of air coming out of my palm. I immediately feel a breeze brush across my face, and I let out a happy laugh.

Okay, Willow, let’s see what you can do.

I pull a little harder and run my hands up and down my body like I’m applying lotion to my skin. I can feel my air drying the water. It’s a quick but gentle breeze that gets the job done in seconds. Clapping my hands, I do a little happy dance after patting myself down, finding no water left on me.

Now your hair.

Following the same process I did at Gaster’s, I picture what I want my hair to look like and that’s soft beach curls with a little bit of body. Closing my eyes and calling my air back out, I run my fingers through my hair. I can feel my hair drying beneath my palms as I continue to comb through it, and I twirl strands around my fingers, picturing the curl forming. When it feels like my whole head’s dry, I command my element away and blow out a breath before opening my eyes.

I squeal like a schoolgirl when I look in the mirror and see my hair. It isn’t exactly what I was going for. The curls are a little tighter than I wanted but close enough for my first try. It’s an easy enough fix as I run my hands through the curls, breaking up some of the chunkier pieces, and flip my head over to give it some volume.

Smiling at myself in the mirror, I head to the closet, where laid out on my small love seat is my outfit for the day. Just like I used to do as a little girl, I spent the night picking out the perfect outfit, a knee-length, light purple sundress and a pair of silver sandals. Draken told me I’d be given different shoes and a uniform for both combat and E.F. training class, so I don’t have to worry there.

Hopping on my platform and giving a twirl in the mirror, I can’t help the smile on my lips. I’m so proud of myself and ecstatic about using my element on my own, and as brutal as Tillman’s training was, I feel energetic, confident, and surprisingly sexy.

My dress has a fitted waistline that shows off my curves and a small V-neck that shows a little more cleavage than I’m used to, but I want to embrace this side of me, the sexy, powerful side, instead of hiding behind ill-fitting clothes out of fear that someone’s going to make a crude comment.

Grabbing my timekeeper, with one minute to spare, I put it in the pocket of my dress, grab the rest of my things by the door, and as it opens, I have to dodge a fist that was getting ready to knock.

“Shit, little wanderer, are you okay? I was coming to escort you to breakfast,” Draken says, standing there looking as good as he did the night before when he came and got me for dinner. I shamelessly run my eyes up and down him, despite the fact he’s looking at me with concern.

“I’m fine, Draken. I’m starving and need coffee.” I smile.

“Me too. I got woken up at dawn.” His words are teasing, but he’s eye fucking me in my outfit now that he knows I’m fine.

His look heats my skin, but I let out a loud laugh as I think about how he busted in my room, hands blazing, ready to burn someone for me. It was so sweet, protective, and such a turn-on. It’s good to know that if I scream loud enough, he’ll hear me.

“Sorry about that. Tillman scared the shit out of me, and I just reacted.” It sure as fuck wasn’t funny this morning but now, I can’t help but laugh as the scene replays in my mind.

“A good reaction too. I can’t remember the last time someone got a hit on Tillman, outside of one of us. It’s going to be the highlight of my whole day,” he says, joining in with his own laughter.

We’re both still laughing as we walk into the breakfast room. Corentin and Tillman are already seated, leaving the spot I’ve deemed mine open. As soon as I sit down, Corentin passes me my coffee and Tillman passes me a plate full of food.

When I arch my brow at him in question, he just shrugs his shoulder. I shake my head at his ridiculousness of talking to me, then not talking to me, but I still give him a sweet smile because I need him to take it easy on me in my next training and class.

“Good morning, kiddos. Lovely day it is.” Gaster comes bustling in. All of us murmur our good mornings back to him as he takes his seat right in front of me.

“Willow, you’re glowing. What happened?” he asks with a wide smile.

Thank fuck, nothing like an orgasm, Gaster, and you just called me out.

“What the fuck, man?” Draken hollers as Tillman spits his coffee out, barely missing him.

We all stare at Tillman, waiting for an explanation, but he doesn’t offer one and I swear his cheeks are tinted a shade darker.

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