Academy's Pervert in the D Class

Lor opened the drawer, the soft scrape of wood loud in the quiet room.

The orb inside glowed faintly, its pink light pulsing like a quiet heartbeat, casting eerie shadows across his face.

He lifted it carefully, holding it up, the hum filling the air with a subtle, electric charge.

Kiara gasped softly, her hands rising instinctively, her eyes locking onto the orb with a mix of awe and recognition. "That's—"

"You know what this is," Lor said, his voice calm but cutting, the orb's glow reflecting in his hazel eyes, sharpening their intensity.

"There's enough power in this orb to kill the High Mage."

The light danced in Kiara's eyes, wide and shining, a fleeting moment of awe replacing the grief that had clouded them.

She reached out, her fingertips trembling, desperate to touch it, to claim the power that could fuel her vengeance.

Lor pulled it back, just out of reach.

Her gaze snapped to him, confusion and yearning twisting her features, her breath catching. "Lor…"

"You want it," he said, his voice steady, merciless, as he held the orb just beyond her grasp. "I can see it in your eyes."

She bit her lip, her hands dropping to her lap, but she didn't deny it, her silence a confession louder than words.

Lor leaned in, the orb's glow casting harsh shadows across his face, his voice low and unyielding. "If you want it… then you have to make a choice."

Kiara's throat worked, her body shaking with the storm raging inside her—grief, desire, vengeance, and something softer, more fragile, that flickered in her eyes as she looked at him.

His words dropped like stones into the silence, heavy and final.

"I'll give it to you. But only if you break up with me."

The orb pulsed once, its light flaring briefly as if it knew the weight of the ultimatum, bathing them both in a vivid pink glow.

Kiara's breath stuttered, her lips parting in shock, her icy-blue eyes wide with a vulnerability he'd never seen in her before.

For the first time since he'd known her, she looked lost, caught between the fire of her vengeance and the warmth of what they'd built together.

If they had even built anything that is.

The glow of the orb painted them both, two figures frozen in a moment of lust, love, and the sharp edge of vengeance.

Lor stood rigid, his jaw tight, his hazel eyes unyielding despite the ache carving a hollow space in his chest.

Kiara's voice trembled, but her body still carried that unshakable confidence, her shoulders squared even as tears brimmed in her icy-blue eyes. "What do you mean?"

"I mean exactly what I said." Lor's words were clipped.

"If you want this power… then you give me up. We go back to strangers. No kissing. No touching. No love. No more you drinking me dry." His voice was steady, but his hands clenched at his sides, betraying the storm raging beneath his calm.

Kiara's throat worked, her lashes trembling as tears threatened to spill.

"You can't… mean that. Lor, why are you—why are you being like this all of a sudden?" Her voice cracked, the usual fire in her tone fracturing into something raw, vulnerable.

"Because I need to know the truth," he said, his voice steady as a blade drawn, cutting through the air between them.

He lifted the orb higher, its faint glow casting harsh shadows across her tear-streaked face, splitting her features into halves of light and darkness.

"If you stay with me, it's because you love me—not because of this." He tilted the orb, its light glinting in her eyes. "So choose, Kiara. Fast."

Her lips trembled, her chest rising and falling in ragged gasps. In his eyes, she saw herself reflected—tearful, cornered, small—and she hated it, hated the weakness it revealed.

Her heart screamed one thing, her blood another.

She thought of her mother's screams, the pyre's roar, the stones striking Lira's body, people punching and kicking her, bruising her even as she stood unbowed.

She thought of Lor's laugh, the warmth of his touch, the way his lips curved when he teased her.

Her fingers curled and uncurled, nails digging into her palms until they stung, drawing tiny beads of blood.

"Why… why do you make me do this," she whispered, choking on the words, her voice barely audible, thick with grief and desperation.

Lor didn't answer, his eyes never wavering, his silence a wall she couldn't breach.

Finally, with a sob muffled against her teeth, Kiara reached out, her hand trembling like a leaf caught in a storm.

Her fingers closed around the orb, the pink light kissing her skin, warm and alive, as if it recognized her blood.

She clutched it to her chest, gasping softly, the power thrumming against her heartbeat, a siren's call to the vengeance she'd carried for years.

Her other hand rose, shaking, and she leaned in desperately, her lips seeking his, needing one last anchor, one last taste of the warmth they'd shared before she drowned in her own choices.

Lor turned his head away, his jaw tight, his eyes fixed on the wall.

The rejection cut sharper than any blade, a wound that stole her breath. Kiara froze, her lips brushing empty air, her eyes wide with grief, tears spilling freely now, tracing hot paths down her cheeks, catching the orb's fading glow.

She looked at him one last time, sadness carving deep lines into her face, love and rage and despair colliding until they were indistinguishable.

Then, without a word, she turned.

Clutching the orb tightly, she stepped to the window, her movements swift but heavy, her dark hair catching the moonlight like a shroud.

With one last glance back—desperate, aching, her icy-blue eyes glistening—she vanished into the night, the window clicking shut behind her.

The room was suddenly hollow, the silence cruel and oppressive.

Lor stood still for a moment, his breath uneven, then sat heavily on the bed, the mattress creaking under his weight.

The emptiness pressed into him, a cold, aching void where warmth should have been.

Betrayal? Regret? Relief?

He couldn't name the feeling, only the ache that clawed at his chest.

"Maybe I'll feel better in the morning," he muttered to no one, curling onto his side, his body heavy, his soul heavier.

His eyes closed against the sting, and he let exhaustion drag him under, the darkness swallowing him whole.