“Orson…”
Avira Nassy lazily tilted her face up to look at him. “You wiped your sweat on me. I’m not happy about it.”
“…”
Orson, his arm still draped over her shoulder, lifted her chin with mock seriousness and pouted, his tone full of exaggerated grievance. “Avira, didn’t we agree to be together? Are you really going to abandon me just because a pretty girl likes you?”
His voice carried a childlike sense of grievance, a blend of playful teasing and genuine emotion.
The moment those words left his mouth, the gym exploded with attention. The girls who had been fixated on Noelle now turned their focus to the pair, their expressions resembling a pack of wolves spotting fresh prey. The atmosphere turned overwhelmingly pink with excitement.
“Hey… you’ve already seen my body… Avira, you’re not planning to just leave me high and dry, are you?”
Orson’s blue-green eyes sparkled like a galaxy filled with stars, his voice low and soft, dripping with a near-seductive allure.
Noelle stood frozen, utterly shocked by Orson’s actions.
To others, his behavior might have seemed ambiguous—no one could be sure of its intent. Orson was known for his playful personality, so perhaps this was just another way to liven up the mood.
But Noelle saw through it.
That gentle tone, the way he looked at Avira Nassy…
It was different from how he looked at anyone else. She had never seen *this* version of Orson before.
Behind the playful words was an unmistakable possessiveness.
Yes, possessiveness!
And even a subtle hint of warning.
*Why…?*
Could the rumors be true?
*Could Orson actually like… Avira Nassy?*
*Avira Nassy?*
“Orson…”
Avira Nassy raised her lashes, her gaze meeting his seriously.
“Hmm?”
Orson froze for a moment, then smiled, his soft golden hair swaying gently in the light breeze. Through the gaps in his hair, his stunning eyes shimmered with scattered brilliance, breathtakingly beautiful. “Avira, are you finally planning to take responsibility for me?”
“Mm, not really…”
Avira Nassy shook her head. “I just think you should probably get your brain checked.”
“…” Orson sighed regretfully, a smile still on his lips. Turning to the stunned Noelle, he asked, “Little Noelle, you haven’t answered my question from earlier.”
His blue-green eyes seemed to hold a trace of mist, unfathomable in their depth.
“Do you… like Avira?”
Noelle, still in a daze, remained frozen in place.
Hearing Orson’s voice snapped her out of it. The scenes from moments before still lingered in her mind as she lowered her head. “I… I don’t like her at all…”
*Liar.*
Her words sounded so dismissive.
Yet between Avira Nassy and Orson, there was a sense of harmony, as though no one else could intrude.
*It’s a lie…*
“That’s good, then.”
Orson’s lips curved into a perfect arc. “If someone were to compete with me for Avira, I’d be quite troubled.”
Noelle’s fingers trembled slightly as she bit her lip, her flushed face showing no sign of cooling.
“I really don’t like her…”
She murmured softly, then suddenly threw the paper bag in her hands at Avira Nassy, spun on her heels, and bolted for the door. “You call yourselves real men with balls—?!”
*Stupid Avira Nassy!*
*She’d rather like guys than girls… And you still call yourselves men with balls?! Aaaaaah!*
—
What…
What just happened?
Even after Noelle’s figure disappeared from sight, the onlookers remained frozen, unable to process what they had just witnessed.
Was it an illusion?
Holding the paper bag, Avira Nassy tilted her head, looking confused. “But I don’t have any, though…”
“Avira…”
Suddenly, a hand tugged at her sleeve.
Avira Nassy turned her gaze back, finding Ashton holding onto her.
“Keep… training…”
“Mm.”
Avira Nassy nodded and gently removed Orson’s hand. She placed the jacket aside and returned to the court to resume training.
*Lan cares deeply about this match.*
She had noticed recently that Ashton’s training had been far more rigorous and focused than usual—several times more intense than before.
*That’s good.*
The stronger those around her became, the more at ease she felt.
Because her mission…
Had never allowed for failure. And this time… it wouldn’t either.
Ashton cast a faint glance at Orson, who remained standing still, his silver-blue eyes narrowing almost imperceptibly.
*I won’t let you have her…*
—
“This won’t do… not like this.”
Watching the silver-haired boy’s retreating figure, Orson ran a hand through his golden hair.
The strands slipped through his slender fingers, glowing faintly under the orange hues of the setting sun, an ephemeral, dreamlike beauty.
Behind the curtain of his hair, his blue-green eyes flickered with a trace of dark, unreadable light.
*I’ve grown too greedy.*
His earlier actions weren’t just to stop Noelle’s budding feelings. They were also because every time someone looked at Avira Nassy with those admiring, covetous, possessive gazes, it filled him with discomfort.
