Under the pretense of needing to use the loo, Céilidh slipped out into the upstairs hallway. She lingered there only a few moments when the object of her lingering came back up the stairs. Forster Barclay had held her eye since the start of the term and it had only been a twist of bad timing – nearly every time they tried to talk – that had prevented anything from sparking. Part of the problem was that despite her usual nature, Céilidh wanted to wait for Forster to make the first move. And here it was, Christmas. At this pace, they’d be well into their time at Hourglass Village, the rest home for witches and warlocks.
So, the redhead decided to take matters into her own hands. Literally...Read More