The final bell of Theoretical Knowledge rang, echoing through the lecture hall. I closed my notebook with a satisfied snap, the pages filled with neat, precise handwriting.
"That was incredible," I breathed, turning to Elara beside me.
She was already packing her bag, her grey eyes shining with intellectual excitement. "Professor Onlnor covered advanced mana circulation theory today. Most of the class looked lost, but you kept up."
"We kept up," I corrected, smiling. "We were the only ones asking follow-up questions."
Elara nodded, pushing her glasses up her nose. "True. I think we've already earned a reputation as the class nerds."
"Better to be the nerds than the ones who failed," I replied.
We left the lecture hall and made our way to the club room on the fourth floor. The afternoon sun streamed through the high windows, casting long shadows across the wooden tables. We sat down and immediately began discussing the day's topics, expanding upon the theories Professor Onlnor had introduced.
"According to the text," Elara said, tapping a page in her book, "mana control isn't just about volume. It's about the density of the mana particles. If we can compress our mana into a smaller space, the output increases exponentially."
"Right," I agreed, scribbling down a diagram. "But compressing mana requires immense mental focus. It's dangerous if you lose control."
We worked for an hour, our conversation flowing seamlessly between theory and practical application. But eventually, I glanced at the clock on the wall. My heart skipped a beat.
"I have to go," I said, closing my notebook.
Elara looked up, surprised. "Already? We haven't even started on the advanced spell structures."
"I have a training session," I explained, standing up and slinging my bag over my shoulder. "With Kaelen. I already let him know I wanted to train with him."
Elara's eyebrows rose. "Kaelen again? You're spending a lot of time with him."
"He's my training partner," I said, though my cheeks warmed slightly. "And he's helping me improve. I'll see you tomorrow, Elara."
"Good luck," she called after me.
I left the club room and navigated the Tower's corridors until I reached the dormitory wing. Kaelen had messaged me his room number earlier: Room 302, West Wing.
I stood before the heavy wooden door and knocked firmly.
A moment later, the door opened. Kaelen stood there, wearing a loose tank top and sweatpants. His silver hair was tied back in its usual ponytail, but a few strands had escaped, framing his face. His emerald eyes widened slightly when he saw me.
"Bell," he said, his voice a low rumble. "You're punctual."
"I try to be," I replied, stepping inside as he moved aside.
My eyes scanned the room, and my jaw dropped.
The dormitory was spacious, typical for a high-ranking student, but it was unlike any room I had ever seen. Instead of books or decorations, the room was dominated by exercise equipment. There were racks of dumbbells, barbells, and kettlebells lining the walls. In the center of the room sat a massive squat rack with a heavy-duty bench.
But what caught my eye were the weights themselves. They glowed with a faint blue aura.
Mana-infused weights, I realized, my stomach twisting. These things can weigh several tons depending on the mana input.
I looked at Kaelen, who was already stretching his arms. The sheer density of muscle on his frame was intimidating.
A training maniac, I thought. This guy is absolutely a training maniac.
"Ready?" Kaelen asked, turning to face me.
I swallowed hard, forcing a determined expression onto my face. "Ready."
I changed in his bathroom, pulling on my training clothes, the tight top and shorts that still made me feel exposed. When I stepped out, Kaelen was already at the squat rack, loading plates onto the bar.
"We'll start with squats," he said. "Your legs are weak. We need to fix that."
I nodded, approaching the rack. The bar was already loaded with a weight that looked heavy to me, but Kaelen handled it like it was a feather.
"Form first," he instructed. "Feet shoulder-width apart. Core tight."
I positioned myself under the bar, resting it across my shoulders. Kaelen stood behind me, his presence looming.
"Squat down," he commanded. "Keep your chest up."
I bent my knees, lowering my hips. As I descended, I felt a hand on the small of my back.
"Lower," he said. "Your butt needs to go lower. Push it back."
I grunted, forcing my hips lower until my thighs were parallel to the floor. My muscles burned.
"Good," Kaelen said. "Now push up. Drive through your heels."
I pushed, my legs shaking. As I rose, I felt another hand on my hip, guiding me, stabilizing me.
"Keep your form," he murmured, his voice close to my ear. "Don't let your knees cave in."
I completed the rep, exhaling sharply. We continued for a set of ten. By the end, my legs were trembling, but Kaelen looked unfazed.
"Again," he said.
We moved through the workout, Kaelen pushing me harder than I had ever pushed myself. He spotted me on the bench press, his hands hovering near the bar, ready to catch it if I failed. He corrected my form on lunges, his grip firm on my arms.
While I struggled with moderate weights, Kaelen moved to the heavy dumbbells. He lifted weights that I could only dream of, his muscles rippling with every rep. The sound of the weights clanking was rhythmic, a testament to his strength.
Finally, after what felt like hours, we finished. I was drenched in sweat, my muscles screaming in protest. Kaelen, on the other hand, barely seemed to have broken a sweat, though his skin glistened with a light sheen.
"Good work," he said, wiping his face with a towel. "You're improving."
"Thanks," I panted, leaning against the wall for support. "I feel like I'm going to collapse."
Kaelen walked to the mini-fridge in the corner. "I'll order us food. There's a good place that delivers."
"Wait," I said, pushing myself off the wall. "Let me cook."
Kaelen paused, looking at me with surprise. "Cook? Here?"
"I'm hungry," I said, walking toward his kitchenette. "And I enjoy cooking. It's... soothing."
I found an apron hanging on a hook and tied it around my waist. I rummaged through his fridge, finding basic ingredients: eggs, vegetables, rice, and some meat.
As I began chopping vegetables, I felt Kaelen's eyes on me. I glanced over my shoulder and saw him watching me, his expression unreadable. He was leaning against the counter, arms crossed, his gaze fixed on my movements.
I turned back to the stove, focusing on the sizzle of the pan. He's watching me, I thought. But why?
I cooked quickly and efficiently, preparing a simple but hearty stir-fry with rice. The aroma filled the small room, rich and savory.
When I finished, I plated the food and set it on the table. Kaelen sat down, and I joined him.
We ate in silence for a moment, the only sounds the clinking of utensils and the hum of the Tower's ventilation system.
"This is good," Kaelen said finally, his voice softer than usual.
"Thanks," I replied, smiling. "It's a recipe from my village."
We continued eating, and the conversation flowed naturally. Kaelen began to talk about his life, his voice losing its usual sharp edge. He complained about his schedule, about the expectations placed on him as the son of a Supreme Duke, and about the constant pressure to be the best.
I listened intently, nodding along.
"And my hair," he said, reaching up to touch his ponytail. "It's getting too long. It gets in the way during training."
I looked at his hair, noticing the length. "You should go to a barber," I suggested.
Kaelen shook his head immediately. "No. That would waste precious training time. I can't afford to sit in a chair for an hour."
I stared at him, my face going flat. "You're telling me you'd rather train with hair in your eyes than take an hour to get it cut?"
"It's efficient," he insisted.
I looked at his elven ears, which drooped slightly in a way that was unexpectedly cute. The contrast between his massive, muscular frame and that small, vulnerable gesture made my heart squeeze.
Cute, I thought. Wait, he's cute?
I shook the thought away. "I'll cut it for you."
Kaelen blinked, looking at me in surprise. "You?"
"I used to cut hair back in my village," I explained, a confident smile spreading across my face. "I had quite a bit of experience with styling. Trust me!"
Kaelen thought for a moment, his green eyes searching mine. Then, he nodded. "Alright. Do it."
We moved to the bathroom. I found a chair and set it up in front of the mirror. Kaelen sat down, his broad shoulders filling the space.
I grabbed a pair of scissors from his toiletries, sharp, professional-grade scissors, of course, and a comb. I draped a towel over his shoulders.
"Close your eyes," I instructed.
He obeyed, his long lashes resting against his cheeks. I began to work, my hands moving with practiced precision. I trimmed the length, layering the hair, and then focused on the sides.
I had spent years in a backwater village with no internet and eventually picked up various hobbies to pass the time, and hair styling was one of them. I knew exactly how to shape a face, how to create a style that was both practical and flattering.
I worked in silence, the only sound the snip of the scissors. When I finished, I stepped back to admire my work.
"Open your eyes," I said.
Kaelen opened his eyes and looked at his reflection. I had given him a comb-over fade, the sides tapered short, the top longer and swept back. It highlighted his sharp jawline and high cheekbones, making his emerald eyes pop.
I stared at him, my breath catching in my throat.
Hot, I thought. He's hot.
I shook my head violently. Wait, I'm not gay—
Kaelen turned around in the chair, looking up at me. "How do I look?"
I gave him a thumbs-up, forcing a smile. "Great. Really great."
He nodded, standing up. "I'll take a shower to wash off the hair clippings."
He walked into the shower stall and closed the door. I sat on his bed, waiting.
My mind began to race.
Is finding him hot gay? I asked myself. I'm a girl in this life. I'm attracted to men. That's normal. But I'm also a guy in my past life. Does that change things?
I shook my head, trying to clear the confusion.
No, I'm overthinking it. I just appreciated his aesthetic. That's all.
I let out a proud noise, satisfied with my logical conclusion.
The shower door opened, and Kaelen stepped out. He was wearing only a towel around his waist, droplets of water clinging to his skin.
My eyes widened.
His chest was packed with muscle, defined and powerful. His abs were a perfect six-pack, leading down to a V-cut that disappeared beneath the towel. His shoulders were broad, his arms thick with biceps.
He ran a hand through his damp hair, his green eyes catching the light.
I stared, my mouth slightly open.
He's hot, I thought again, the realization hitting me like a physical blow.
I shook my head, trying to deny it, but the image was burned into my mind.
Kaelen looked at me, a faint smile on his lips. "Thanks for the haircut, Bell."
"You're welcome," I managed to say, my voice barely a whisper.
As he walked past me to get dressed, I couldn't help but think one thing:
I am in so much trouble.