Noah's (POV)
The bad feeling I was having turn out to be true .
No one told me the world would go quiet when a girl like Lyra started smiling at me.
It didn't happen all at once.
The day after our little "incident" in the garden, she acted like nothing had happened. She didn't mention holding my hand, or how her voice cracked when she thanked me. I expected her to revert to her usual self—sharp tongue, eyes like ice, and a spine made of pride.
But then, she looked at me during breakfast.
Just once.
And smiled.
Not the sarcastic smirk she usually gave when someone annoyed her. No, it was small. Soft. The kind of smile that felt like it wasn't meant for anyone else to see.
And for a second… I forgot what the professor was saying.
"Oi, Noah," Layla leaned toward me, narrowing her amber eyes. "What's with that look on your face?"
I blinked, clearing my throat. "What look?"
"You're blushing," she teased, poking my cheek.
I swatted her hand away and muttered something unintelligible, but I could feel the heat crawling up my neck.
It only got worse from there.
Every now and then, I'd catch Lyra looking at me during training. Not glaring—watching. And when our eyes met, she'd immediately look away, pretending to be deeply fascinated by the ground or the sky.
She even hold me closely when we stay on my bed for Soul Space training.
Then came the small things.
She started walking beside me after training, casually matching my pace. When I asked if she was following me, she said it was just "a coincidence." The third time it happened in the same week, Scarlett raised an eyebrow.
"Another coincidence?" she asked, her voice sugary sweet.
Lyra didn't answer. She just walked a little faster, and I swear—I saw the tips of her ears turn pink.
But the real surprise came during sparring practice.
I'd taken a nasty hit to the ribs—some idiot, my dad, who didn't hold back his mana-infused punch—and while the pain wasn't that bad, I'd definitely not feel good.
I was limping my way back toward the room when I heard her voice.
"Noah."
I turned, a little startled. "Lyra?"
She crossed her arms, eyes scanning me from head to toe. "You're injured."
"It's nothing," I shrugged. "Just a scratch."
"You're limping."
"It's a stylish limp."
She didn't laugh. She grabbed my arm and dragged me inside my roomwith surprising strength. Sat me down on bed. Took out a small vial from her own pouch—one of her personal healing tonics, not the standard one i my house.
And as she dabbed the potion onto my side, her fingers gentle and her eyes focused, she scolded me.
"Don't be reckless. Just because you're strong doesn't mean you're invincible."
I chuckled. "You sound like my mom."
She glared. "Do you want me to slap the other side of your ribs?"
I held my hands up in surrender.
Scarlett arrived a few minutes later and paused at the door. Her eyes flicked between Lyra's hand on my side and the closeness between us. A faint pout formed on her lips.
"Am I… interrupting something?"
Lyra quickly stepped back, face flushed. "He was being dumb. I'm just fixing it."
"Uh-huh," Layla's voice chimed in from behind. "Fixing him with love, maybe?"
Lyra shot her a death glare.
But I could tell—it wasn't her usual venomous glare. It was flustered. Embarrassed.
Julia, my mother, noticed it first time during our last gathering.
We were all in the garden—Scarlett, Layla, Lyra, my parents, and I. Lyra, who usually stayed quiet and distant, sat beside me. Not too close. Not too far. Just enough that her shoulder brushed mine when she leaned forward.
When I offered her tea, she actually said "thank you." And when I smiled at her, she looked away with pink cheeks.
Julia leaned over to my father, who was sipping his wine with an amused expression.
"She's smitten," my mother whispered.
Richard grunted. "She's still dangerous. But I like her better when she's soft on our boy."
Layla, watching all this from across the table, narrowed her eyes.
Scarlett? She didn't say anything. She just watched Lyra carefully, like she was analyzing a new rival.
And me?
I didn't know what to do with this version of Lyra. The one who secretly packed extra potions in my bag, "just in case." The one who, during a rainy day, tossed me a spare cloak with a scoff and said, "Don't catch a cold, idiot."
The same Lyra who still cursed like a sailor in battle, but who now gave me these small, fleeting smiles… like warm snowflakes melting before they touched the ground.
I think I was falling for her.
And the worst part?
I didn't mind.
[System Notification!]
Lyra's Affection Points: +100
New Trait Discovered: "Tsundere Tenderness"
You have unlocked: Soft Glances, Healing Touch, and Hidden Smiles
" Damn, Sorry Scarlett and Layla"
-to be continued..