Tu time and azure

(you amarah)

The library was dimly lit, lit only by the dim light of lamps and the flickering of dying candles. The air was heavy with the scent of old leather and the dust of centuries. In the far corner, two people sat on a soft armchair. Azur, his face almost completely hidden by his long bangs, lazily flipped through the pages of a heavy tome, his head resting against Tu Taim's shoulder. On Azur's head rested an old, battered wizard's hat, matching the one worn by the other adepts. Tu Taim, lost in his thoughts, bobbed his head slightly, his tail tapping rhythmically on the floor.

Your appearance in the doorway was quiet, but noticeable.