Outside, the light dimd slowly, shadows stretching across the room like lazy fingers as the two of them worked through diagrams and calculations.
When they finally finished, the window had turned black, reflecting only the flickering candles and their tired, satisfied faces in the glass.
Eva stretched her arms overhead, sighing in relief, her top riding up to expose the smooth plane of her stomach, the curve of her hips peeking from under the shorts.
"That’s... everything?"
"That’s everything," Lor confird, closing his notebook with a soft snap.
"You’ll ace it tomorrow if you rember even half of what I taught you just now." He watched her stretch, his gaze tracing the way her top strained across her chest, the fabric outlining her form in the candlelight.
"I will," she said, smiling faintly, her eyes eting his with a warmth that went beyond gratitude. "Thanks, Lor."
He nodded, standing up with a stretch of his own, his shirt pulling tight across his shoulders. "Alright. I should get going."
Her expression faltered, a flicker of disappointnt crossing her features, her fingers twisting in the hem of her shorts. "Already? It’s almost dinner—"
"My mom’ll be waiting," he said casually, though sothing about the way he avoided her gaze told her it wasn’t the full truth, his voice carrying a hint of reluctance. "She gets anxious if I’m late and I am already very late."
Eva bit her lip, the soft flesh turning white under her teeth, unsure whether to argue.
He’d done enough for her today—more than enough—but a part of her didn’t want the day to end yet, the warmth of his presence lingering like a promise.
She watched as he reached for the door, his hand closing around the knob, the muscles in his arm flexing subtly.
"Lor—"
He felt a gentle tug on his wrist. Her fingers were soft, hesitant, but they stopped him in his tracks, her touch sending a quiet thrill up his arm.
He turned around slowly.
"Hm?"
Eva didn’t answer at first.
Her head was bowed, and her dark blue hair spilled forward, hiding her eyes, the strands brushing the neckline of her top.
Her grip tightened just slightly—as if she feared he might slip away if she let go.
The faintest tremor ran through her fingers, her shorts shifting with her nervous stance, the fabric hugging her thighs.
"What’s wrong?" Lor asked, his tone even, though he already knew, reading her like an open book—the way her body language betrayed her, the way she couldn’t et his gaze, her chest rising a little faster under the loose top.
"You look like you’re about to confess to a cri."
Her cheeks flared red, the color blooming like a sunrise across her face and down her neck, making the thin top seem even more revealing.
She wasn’t the usual Eva anymore.
Sothing changed.
Or a lot.
"N-No! It’s not—" She stopped herself, struggling for words, her voice barely a whisper, her free hand tugging at her shorts as if to steady herself. "I... just..."
Lor tilted his head, that faint smirk tugging at his lips, his eyes softening with curiosity. "You just what?"
Eva swallowed hard, her throat bobbing visibly.
Her eyes lifted finally, shimring green in the candlelight, and Lor could see it—that conflict, that strange mixture of curiosity and hunger she hadn’t known how to na yet.
It wasn’t the sa as before.
It wasn’t about the ritual or his teasing.
It was sothing she felt now on her own, unprompted and unmasked, her body leaning toward him instinctively.
He waited.
Patient.
Letting the tension stretch, the air thickening between them.
Finally, she said, "Since you taught all those things... I was thinking maybe... I should perform a ritual too. So that the Guiding Light can teach you sothing in return. I an you have to score well too right? So that our class’s average goes up."
The words ca out trembling, her voice half-broken by the weight of what she was really saying, her fingers still clutching his wrist, her top slipping slightly off one shoulder to reveal the smooth curve of her collarbone.
Lor blinked once—then smiled.
Slowly.
"Ah," he murmured, his voice low and warm. "A ritual of gratitude, huh? That’s... poetic."
She nodded quickly, trying to look serious, though her eyes darted anywhere but his, her blush deepening as she shifted, the shorts riding up to expose more of her thigh.
"It’s only fair," she said softly. "You helped , so... maybe the Light can help you too."
For a mont, Lor said nothing.
He simply stepped closer, his shadow overlapping hers, his free hand brushing her arm lightly. "You really believe the Light will be pleased by that?"
Eva hesitated, her breath catching. "I— I think so..."
He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a whisper, his breath warm against her ear. "Then you should know—the Light already feels pleased. And if you ask sincerely, you won’t need any ritual this ti."
Her breath hitched, a soft, audible sound that made the room feel even smaller.
She understood what he ant—or maybe she didn’t fully, but enough to make her heart pound painfully in her chest, her nipples tightening against the fabric of her top.
The world seed to shrink to the space between them, the faint sound of her pulse echoing louder than the wind outside.
"Then..." she began, voice trembling, "...then I’ll ask."
Lor’s eyes glead with quiet amusent. "Go on."
Eva’s pink lips parted.
She hesitated for one final heartbeat, cheeks flushed, every muscle taut with embarrassnt, her shorts suddenly feeling too short, too exposing under his gaze.
And then, in a voice so soft it was almost lost to the candle’s flicker, she said the words aloud—the words she’d been circling around since the mont he stood to leave.
"I want to... do it again. With you."
The silence that followed wasn’t empty—it was heavy, like the air just before lightning strikes.
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