His voice carried a gentle question, devoid of any unsettling frivolity, as natural as a teacher asking a student about their latest exam.
The girl, encircled by his arms and held close to his chest, seemed to have lost the ability to think.
Her gaze was fixed on the boy as if bound by some invisible force. Her cheeks flushed a deep red, and her wide eyes glistened with a watery sheen.
As though bewitched, she nodded slightly. “Because I like you too much…”
The boy smiled faintly.
With one hand, he hooked the edge of his glasses and slowly removed them.
At that moment, the girl felt her breath leave her.
It was astonishing how a person could look so utterly different with and without glasses—like a transformation into another being entirely.
The thin lenses had concealed his strikingly dark eyes, tempering their allure and giving him an air of angelic purity.
But now, without their restraint, those jet-black irises exuded a devilish temptation, shimmering with a light that unsettled the soul.
An aura of seductive wickedness radiated from his mesmerizing gaze, while his lips curled into a smile more enchanting than a poppy’s allure.
It was as if an angel had torn away its golden veneer, revealing the devil’s seductive essence beneath.
“Theo…”
The girl found herself struggling to breathe.
Incredible…
How could she, of all people, be embraced by such a breathtakingly beautiful boy?
The world outside whispered that no one could capture this boy’s heart. But rumors were unreliable.
Because she felt as if she had already succeeded—at least halfway.
The boy’s delicate, impossibly beautiful features were bathed in the moonlight streaming through the window, making him look like a divine being.
“What should I do? I’m starting to regret rejecting your confession like that earlier…”
His slender fingers tilted her chin upward, his voice low and melodious.
And that smile of his deepened, morphing into something even more teasingly mischievous.
Something dark seemed on the verge of bursting forth.
The girl, as if entranced, closed her eyes, her lips taut with nervous anticipation.
“It seems you don’t truly understand my feelings. Do I have to spell it out for you?”
In that instant, a flicker of dull light seemed to ripple through his jet-black eyes, and their color grew even more sinister and bewitching. “I rejected you because I despise you. And that kiss of yours just now—it was so revolting, I felt like throwing up.”
Her face went deathly pale, and under the weight of his mocking, scornful words, her body stiffened completely.
Unbelievable!
This boy, who had been as gentle as flowing water just moments ago, could now utter such cold and cruel words without hesitation.
So, all that suffocating tenderness from before was nothing but a trap adorned with exquisitely beautiful petals. And she, foolishly thinking it a lovely landscape, had willingly stepped into it…
“You should be grateful that I don’t hit girls.”
His lips curved into the most wickedly charming smile, stunningly beautiful yet soul-crushing. “Now, scram. I wouldn’t want someone like you ruining my mood.”
The girl bit her lip, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. She fled, almost stumbling in her haste, utterly humiliated.
Not even bothering to watch her leave, Theo turned his head.
His pitch-black eyes, like a predator locking onto its prey, zeroed in on the figure by the bookshelf.
A girl in a black dress stood there silently.
Her disheveled black hair cascaded down, a few strands resting softly on her shoulders.
The warm orange light cast her delicate, stunning face in a glow of porcelain purity.
At that moment, the boy’s eyes darkened further, as if absorbing the blackness of the straps around his wrist. No matter how strong the noble air about him was, it could not mask the demonic allure inherently his own. “Now, it’s your turn.”
Avira Nassy stared at him, frozen.
Her misty eyes rippled with layers of emotion, one after another, like endless waves.
“Theo…”
The spacious dojo fell into stillness.
The wooden floor reflected the rays of the setting sun, casting a dazzling light.
Amidst it all sat a delicate little girl.
Her jet-black hair flowed down like seaweed, cascading to her waist and making her petite frame appear even smaller.
At the moment, her feet were wrapped in bandages, and her fair, tender legs, arms, and even her cheeks bore traces of scratches and scrapes.
Her beautiful face was flushed red. Her large, watery eyes stayed wide open, her small crimson lips pressed tightly together, and her cheeks puffed out as if she was desperately trying to hold back tears.
Beside her knelt a boy of about the same age.
Perhaps it was because the boy was too exquisitely handsome, but even sitting by her side, his presence was impossible to ignore.
“Zyon… does it hurt?”
The boy gently stroked her wounded leg, his expression filled with tenderness and worry.
That overly beautiful face of his seemed even paler than hers.
Just moments ago, during their usual mountain path endurance training, the girl had unexpectedly fallen.
By the time he turned around, all he saw was her falling backward, her loose black hair flowing like a banner in the wind before she vanished from sight.
