It was only yesterday that she discovered, from online information, that Orson knew how to play basketball.
Back in middle school, the school Orson attended was famous for basketball. However, because of his hectic schedule, he never had time to join any clubs.
Apparently, at the time, Orson was considered a star player of the team, and there are even photos of him playing basketball that were widely circulated on the internet.
Just now, she had paid a bit more attention, and she realized that Orson had quite an impressive physical build.
Speed, strength, and agility—completely on par with George.
And…
She wasn’t sure if her observation was accurate…
But she felt that Orson’s way of playing basketball seemed different.
Instead of relying solely on physical reflexes or techniques, it was almost as if…
He could predict his opponent’s next move.
“Thanks,” George said as he accepted the towel. His eyelashes were damp with sweat, glistening like dew under moonlight.
His blue hair clung to his cheeks, carrying a kind of dizzying allure.
Those deep, sapphire eyes remained as cold and distant as ever. Even with post-exercise fatigue, it couldn’t diminish his charm in the slightest.
Even the simple act of wiping sweat looked like a scene from a photo shoot.
“What a beautiful sight,” someone whispered in admiration. But Orson, dissatisfied, pulled her into a hug, pressing his chin against the top of her head. “Dear, is it really fair for you to treat me so coldly?”
Avira lazily lifted her face, her expression flat. “Ah Orso… you’re wiping your sweat on me… which is kind of annoying…”
“…”
Orson was momentarily speechless, and before he could respond, Avira had already shrugged off his hold.
She then turned to Ashton, who stood nearby. “Hmm… Ash, want to give it a try?”
“Sure,” Ashton replied, his smile faint.
Orston cast a resentful glance at the unconcerned Avira, then looked at Ashton with sudden interest. “Have you played basketball before?”
For some reason, Orson felt a strange sense of familiarity with Ashton, as though he had seen him somewhere before.
It was undeniable that Ashton had the face of a celebrity, but if he really were famous, Orson surely would have remembered.
Ashton gently shook his head without speaking.
“You’ve never played basketball?” Orson asked again.
Ashton shook his head once more.
Orson looked at him, puzzled. If Ashton didn’t know how to play, what was he doing in the basketball club?
Was it possible…
He noticed how Ashton’s gaze was fixed solely on Avira, just as it had been earlier. It was the same look he had given her when they first met—as if she was the only person in his world.
That look…
Made it seem as though Avira belonged only to him…
Which, frankly, was quite irritating.
Ashton picked up a basketball from the nearby cart and walked over to Orson, his expression composed and serene.
Avira tilted her head slightly. “Ash’s challenging you, Ah Orso.”
“Alright,” Orson responded, running a hand through his hair. The light filtering through his fingers glittered like fireworks, dazzling and vibrant. “I accept your challenge. Since it’s your first time, how about a one-shot match?”
Ashton nodded, not objecting to the terms.
Sometimes, one shot was more than enough to see everything.
Ashton…
Orson’s smile grew a bit ambiguous, but he wasn’t underestimating him.
He couldn’t shake the feeling that this seemingly quiet boy harbored an immense, hidden strength beneath his calm exterior.
But even so, he wasn’t about to let anyone take Avira away from him.
He found her first.
He was the one who approached her first.
“Who do you think will win?” George asked as he stood beside her, his cool gaze fixed on the court.
“Hmm… Hard to say… I’m not sure…” she replied, her eyes misty with a dazed, golden glow that sparkled faintly.
In the brightly lit gymnasium, the basketball was tossed high into the air.
The shifting light caught the black lines on the ball, shadowing half of its rotating surface.
Orson jumped up first, hooked the ball, and seized control.
Ashton, on the other hand, remained motionless.
To the others, this seemed like a match with an obvious outcome…
But Avira didn’t think so.
Ashton’s calmness was unsettling.
And Orson wasn’t playing seriously; he was merely probing his opponent’s abilities.
“If you don’t move, you’ll lose,” Orson warned.
The moment his words fell, his speed suddenly increased, charging into Ashton’s half-court with impressive swiftness—more than good enough for a national league.
But in an instant, he realized his hand was empty—the ball had been snatched away!
The speed was astonishingly fast!
