Lor's grin turned mischievous, his black hair falling into his eyes as he bit into his skewer, the sauce tangy on his tongue.
And so, the group shared a round of chuckles, the skewers warming their hands as the evening sun dipped low, casting golden hues over the cobblestones.
As they finished, they parted ways, Myra and Viora heading toward the market square, Olivia and Eva toward the residential lanes, and Nellie lingering a moment, her gray-green eyes hesitant.
Lor started toward his home, the cobblestones cool under his boots, the evening air carrying the scent of woodsmoke and baked bread.
He was steps from his door when a soft voice called out behind him. "Lor."
He turned, his hazel eyes narrowing, his lazy grin returning as he saw Nellie, her ash-brown braids swaying, her freckled cheeks pink in the fading light, her spellbook clutched tightly.
She must have followed him after they disbanded, her gray-green eyes nervous but determined, as if she had something urgent to say.
"What's up, Nellie?" Lor asked, his voice casual but laced with curiosity, leaning against the low stone wall outside his home, his black hair falling messily into his eyes.
He crossed his arms, his hazel eyes glinting with amusement as he studied her, the soft glow of the lantern light highlighting the freckles dusting her nose. "You look like you're working up to something big. Spill it."
Nellie's freckled cheeks flushed deeper, her fingers tightening on her spellbook.
Her gray-green eyes darted to the ground, then back to him, her glasses slipping slightly down her nose as she shifted her weight, her thick thighs pressing together under her skirt.
"I… I had something to ask you," she said, her voice soft but steady, though her petite frame trembled slightly, betraying her nerves.
She took a small step closer, the cobblestones crunching under her boots, her skirt swishing against her thighs.
Lor's grin widened, his hazel eyes sparkling with playful mischief as he leaned forward, the scent of her wafting toward him.
"Another ritual?" he teased, his voice low and flirtatious, his mind already spinning with possibilities.
His cock had been relentless lately, a far cry from the years he'd spent fantasizing about the academy girls—their curves, their blushes, the way they melted under his "Guiding Light" pretense—and the thrill showed no sign of fading.
Each encounter fueled the next, a heady rush he couldn't resist.
"The next tournament's not for a bit, but if you're itching to get ahead, we can do it tomorrow. Or, tonight, if you're feeling bold."
His tone was suggestive, his thoughts drifting to Nellie's shy sweetness, imagining how her thick thighs might tremble in a more intimate setting, her freckled skin flushed under his touch.
Nellie's eyes widened, her freckled cheeks turning a vivid crimson, her gray-green eyes blinking rapidly behind her glasses as she shook her head quickly.
"N-no! It's not that!" she stammered, her voice a whisper, her fingers twisting the edge of her spellbook so tightly the pages crinkled.
She glanced around the quiet street, the lanterns casting long shadows, the distant clatter of a vendor's cart being packed away echoing softly.
"I mean… the ritual helped so much with the test today, but… that's not what I wanted to ask." Her voice trembled, her petite chest rising and falling faster under her blouse, the fabric clinging to her curves, her thick thighs shifting awkwardly.
Lor raised a brow, his lazy grin fading into genuine surprise, his hazel eyes searching her face.
Nellie, nervous as she was, wasn't here for the "Light"? That was new. Most girls came to him with ulterior motives—grades, power—but Nellie's earnestness was disarming.
"Alright, what is it Nellie?," he asked, his voice softening, stepping closer, his boots scuffing the cobblestones. "What's on your mind?"
Nellie took a deep breath, her gray-green eyes meeting his, her freckles stark against her flushed skin.
She pushed her glasses up, her fingers trembling slightly, her spellbook clutched like a shield.
"I… I was wondering if you'd… go out with me," she said, the words tumbling out in a rush, her voice barely above a whisper, her hands gripping the spellbook so tightly her knuckles whitened.
"Like… a date. Tomorrow, after academy? Maybe to the market, or… we could walk by the river, where it's quiet? I mean, if you're okay with it! If not, that's fine, I just… I like talking to you, Lor. You're always so kind, and you don't treat me like I'm just… Class D's...." Her voice wavered, her gray-green eyes dropping to her feet, her thick thighs shifting, her vulnerability raw and unguarded.
Lor blinked, his hazel eyes widening, caught off guard for the first time in a while.
A date?
Not a ritual, not a scheme for advantage—just… him?
The thought hit him like a warm breeze, stirring something unfamiliar in his chest, a quiet warmth that cut through the haze of his usual games.
After all the "Guiding Light" rituals, the perversions he'd indulged, Nellie's shy sincerity was a jolt—genuine, uncalculated, a spark of something real in his tangled world.
His grin returned, softer, his voice warm and steady.
"Yeah, Nellie," he said, nodding, his black hair falling further into his eyes.
"I'd like that. Tomorrow after academy, let's go the market. Grab some of those honeyed pastries you like, maybe wander the river path after. Sound good?"
Nellie's gray-green eyes lit up, her freckled cheeks dimpling with a shy smile, her spellbook relaxing in her grip as a soft giggle escaped her.
"Really? Okay, great!" she said, her voice brighter, her glasses slipping again as she nodded eagerly, her ash-brown braids bouncing.
"I… I'll bring my coin purse, so we can split the pastries. I mean, I know you like the ones with the berry filling, right?"
Her eyes sparkled, her nervousness melting into a quiet excitement, her skirt swishing against her thick thighs as she rocked slightly on her heels, the white lace of her panties catching the light once more, a fleeting tease that made Lor's pulse quicken, though he kept his grin steady.
"You know it Nellie," Lor said, his voice teasing, his hazel eyes twinkling as he leaned closer, the warmth of her excitement infectious.
"Berry filling's my weakness. Tomorrow, then." He winked, his grin widening as Nellie's smile grew, her freckled cheeks glowing in the lantern light.
She lingered for a moment, her gray-green eyes soft, then gave a little wave, her skirt swishing as she turned.
"See you tomorrow, Lor," she said, her voice light, hurrying back down the street, her ash-brown braids bouncing, her petite frame disappearing into the dusk.
Lor watched her go, his hazel eyes thoughtful, a quiet happiness settling in his chest.
A girl interested in him, not the rituals—a rare, grounding feeling amidst his web of schemes and desires.
He pushed open his door, the familiar scent of his mother's cooking—steaming stew, fresh bread, a hint of roasted herbs—greeting him, the warmth of home wrapping around him like a comfort.
After dinner, the table cleared and his parents' voices fading into their evening routine, Lor lay on his bed, the soft mattress creaking under his lean frame.
The room was dimly lit by a single lantern, its flickering light casting shadows on the wooden ceiling, the town's night sounds—distant laughter, a cart rumbling by, the faint hum of a street bard's lute—filtering through the window.
His thoughts drifted unbidden to Kiara, despite his efforts to push her away.
Does she want something from me? he wondered, his hazel eyes narrowing, his fingers tapping restlessly on his chest.
After we parted ways, she chose power over me—so what now? My help with something else?
It irritated him, the way her icy blue eyes lingered in his mind, her possessive hold still tugging at him.
Their relationship had been a storm of perversion and control, her desires matching his own twisted impulses, a dark comfort in their shared deviancy.
But it was over between them right?
Why can't I let this go?
Knock Knock
All of a sudden, a sharp knock on the window broke his thoughts, insistent and unexpected.
Lor sat up, his heart skipping, his mind flashing to Kiara—had she followed him?—but as he pulled back the curtain, his hazel eyes widened in surprise.
It was Ameth, her sleek blonde hair catching the moonlight, her icy blue eyes sharp and unreadable, her sharp face framed by the window, her curvy figure silhouetted in the dusk, her full breasts pressing against her tight uniform as she leaned in, her presence a new puzzle in the quiet night.
"Ameth? How'd you know where I live?" Lor asked, his voice low and teasing, though his hazel eyes studied her carefully, his black hair falling messily into his face.
Ameth's lips parted, her icy blue eyes flickering briefly before settling into a cool, controlled gaze.
"Everyone knows now," she said, her voice smooth but clipped, her sharp face betraying nothing.
"Class D's not exactly subtle about their 'Guiding Light' hero." Her tone was dry, almost mocking, but her fingers twitched at her sides, a faint sign of nerves that Lor caught, his grin widening slightly.
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