DevAca - The Winter Ball Invitation

I NEED TO QUIT DOING THINGS DIFFERENTLY ARGH.
I seriously don't think I have ever done the same style twice. Bluh bluh.

Anyway, this is...terrible, but it's my first ever real comic strip!
Below is my story bit that goes along with it, durhur.


***

The library remained in shambles, ash, and soot, and efforts to rebuild had only recently begun. The air was nippy and cold at this time of year, and the workers moved sluggishly and took frequent coffee breaks. Progress was slow.
The books that survived had been brought inside the academy walls, lining the halls and classrooms with no real home or place. There was hardly any organization at all, but Grema had known that the West Wing held most of the academic books, and the East wing was for more recreational reading. The students generally abided by the rules of borrowing books as they did when there was a proper library, so the books remained more or less organized in their proper stacks.
Grema had found him in the West wing, seated alone at a simple table, doing the only thing he ever seemed to do besides fuss at people.
Hugin was an odd fellow. Grema had never paid him much attention before. She had smiled in amusement when he got into a heated argument with some poor soul that had done the great sin of borrowing one of his books without permission, but other than that he had slipped under her radar of acknowledgment. She couldn’t place seeing him in no more than four accounts, actually.
His way with words was blunt and outwardly rude, unlike her own sly and smart remarks. Although their manors were different, Grema had realized as she peeked unnoticed over the corner that perhaps she and him weren’t all that different. She doubted she was noticed by much of the student body, either. People basically ignored her, and she was okay with that. By the somewhat placid and contented look on his face while reading, Grema had made the guess that Hugin was okay with it too.
‘I'd much rather spend my time in the library than a ball, the best way to find me is to follow the yelling I'm sure to do,’ Grema had repeated the hint she’d been given in her mind. It hadn’t taken her long to figure out who her dance partner was going to be for the Winter Ball. She’d been so quick to figure it out, actually, that she hadn’t really thought about it much. She still didn’t know for sure when she finally presented the rose to him. If it turned out she was wrong in her guess, which wasn’t likely but possible nonetheless, it wouldn’t be just any wrong guess. It would be the wrong guess that would blow up in her face and make sure everybody knew that she had goofed up.
But she wasn’t wrong. He hadn’t exploded in her face. He hadn’t even gotten all angry looking like he usually did. He had looked at the rose, then at Grema, then back to the rose as if confirming that it was the real deal, and that Grema was the actual giver.

He hadn’t said yes, but he hadn’t said no either, so that meant yes. Right? Was that how it worked? He took the rose, that’s all Grema was able to gleam before he stood and left without much of another word. She sat alone for a minute, flustered for reasons she couldn’t quite place a finger on.

Grema had a dance partner. She had a date.



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