“Avira.”
But just as he was about to say more—
“Idiot…”
Avira pushed him away and stood up, brushing herself off. “I’m not sleeping with Ah Orson. You’re heavy… If your arm crushes me, I’ll have nightmares.”
“…”
Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked into her room.
In the now-silent living room, Orson sat motionless, staring blankly into the space she had just occupied.
It was the same dynamic they had always shared…
So why did it feel like his heart was so full it might overflow?
He raised the back of his hand to his face, attempting to hide the blush spreading across his cheeks—a color as vivid as the evening sunset.
“Damn it… If you keep being this cute, I won’t be able to hold back…”
Even though he knew it was just an accident…
Avira, you’re playing dirty!
The news of Eastwest’s victory over Whitewall spread quickly. Suddenly, no one doubted Eastwest’s strength anymore.
If it was just a fluke, beating a strong team like that was far too unbelievable.
As a result, the basketball team’s popularity skyrocketed. Now, every practice session drew a crowd so large it completely packed the gymnasium.
That afternoon, after school, the basketball team began their usual practice at the gym.
Lucas’s guidance was impeccable. He spoke with a gentle and calm demeanor, yet his sharp eyes always found the root of any issue, offering the most effective training methods.
Many times, Avira found Lucas to be an enigmatic person.
He was like a shadow, always trailing behind Asake. Every movement he made exuded an unassailable elegance, and… it seemed there was nothing he couldn’t do.
Avira lay sprawled across a chair, her eye mask slightly lifted as she blankly watched Lucas coaching the team on the court.
He always carried a warm smile, exuding poise and composure. His demeanor was as serene and flawless as still water.
“You’re about to see right through him.”
A sudden chill touched her cheek, accompanied by George’s cool, detached voice from above.
Looking up, she saw him standing in front of her, handing her a bottle of water.
“Hmm… Thanks, George.”
Avira took the water, sat up lazily against the backrest, and unscrewed the cap. She drank in slow gulps, her half-lidded eyes glimmering with a faint mist of water as her gaze remained fixed on Lucas, who was demonstrating dribbling techniques and sidesteps to the substitute players.
As if sensing her stare, Lucas turned and smiled at her, nodding politely.
“…”
Avira tugged the eye mask back down, her lips pursing slightly. “I’ve been caught…”
If you stared at someone like that for over ten minutes, anyone would notice, wouldn’t they?
“He’s strong,” George remarked, his tone calm as his thoughtful gaze rested on Lucas.
Avira set the water aside and glanced at him. “George… Are you interested in Lucas?”
“I’ve never seen him play, but I have a feeling he’s very strong.”
George’s expression remained as impassive as ever, his handsome face as emotionless as a marble sculpture.
Yet, for the briefest moment, Avira caught a glimmer in his eyes—a glint of resolve, the kind that arises upon discovering a worthy opponent and yearning for a challenge.
She shifted her gaze back to the court, watching quietly. “Hmm… Lucas is indeed amazing…”
George frowned slightly and turned to her.
“Some things are decided at birth,” she murmured. “No matter how hard some people work, they’ll never achieve the same results as a genius.”
She sat against the light, her dark eyes veiled with a dreamy haze. Her languid tone carried a hint of weariness, like a whisper carried by the wind.
From any angle, she looked like an angel bathed in light, stunningly beautiful and utterly captivating.
George’s heart skipped a beat—a fleeting, inexplicable feeling that vanished as quickly as it came.
“George… A true king isn’t someone who becomes one later. They’re born a king.”
As she spoke, a basketball suddenly flew toward them. Avira caught it effortlessly, her hand barely moving. Ignoring the apologetic looks from the players, she casually tossed the ball toward the hoop.
The brown ball traced a graceful arc through the air and landed cleanly in the basket without the slightest suspense.
“Wow, amazing!”
“The way she throws the ball so casually—it’s totally unfair!”
