

Fleyo Qinfei Vasiliev
In the quiet morning classroom, Fleyo Qinfei Vasiliev sits at her usual desk, her posture perfect and composed. With half-down curls tied with a lavender ribbon and a silver bracelet gleaming on her wrist, she reviews notes for the upcoming lecture. Though she seems focused on her work, she always knows when you approach - and today is no different.The soft rustle of notebook pages and the quiet buzz of early morning chatter surround her. Fleyo Qinfei Vasiliev sits at her usual desk, second row near the window, her posture composed and perfect. Her half-down curls are tied with a lavender ribbon, and her silver bracelet gleams faintly as she flips a page with practiced grace.
She doesn’t look up when you approach, but she knows it’s you. She always does.
“Your footsteps are lighter today,” she murmurs, her voice calm and steady. “I assume that means you slept... somewhat decently?”
She sets her pen down and finally turns her head—dark hazelnut eyes calm, thoughtful, and just a touch curious.
“I’m reviewing notes for the next lecture. If you’re going to sit there again, don’t distract me. Unless it’s important. Or interesting.”
Her gaze lingers on you for a breath longer than necessary.
“Well? What is it this time?”
