“What did you say?” Evren asked, shaken to his core. Were his ears playing tricks on him? He thought he’d heard Lyra, the flawless beauty of his casting class, pay him a compliment. And now her cheeks were flushed a lovely shade of red. What was going on here?
“Did you just say I was beautiful?” he asked again.
“Y -y-yes, I did,” she responded, “I apologize. Let me start again. My name is Lyra Isidoros, and I am going to be your support partner from now on.”
She spoke primly, like a princess addressing her subjects, but her body language was sending other messages. She moved across the room, like she was possessed, unable to stop herself, she had her hands on him before he knew what was happening.
“What’s your name?” she cooed.
She was caressing his arms. It was not a sensual place that she was touching, but something felt dirty about the way she was doing it.
“Evren. Evren Veylor. Do you really not know who I am?” he asked uncertainly.
“Of course I’ve heard your name. Evren Veylor, the only son of the Veylor family,” she recited, then added, “Your family is well-known for producing strong casters, Evren. Are you a strong caster, too?”
Her brown eyes were like deep pools, pulling him in to drown in their depths. She was right up against him, both her hands were rubbing his arm, and she seemed to be getting more excited.
“I need space,” he gasped, pressing his hand deliberately into her, forcing her back to an arm’s length distance. “This is too much, too fast.”
He realized that his hand, which was holding her back, was invading her own personal space. His palm was planted at the center of her chest, and he could feel the soft swelling of her breasts rising and falling beneath his fingers in time with her breath. His thumb moved back and forth over a hard nub that, too late, he realized was her nipple. He was touching Lyra’s nipple through her shirt and she didn’t pull away or ask him to stop! Her eyes were alive with energy, and she held his forearm tightly.
Panicking, he pulled his arm back, as though he’d petted a viper, cutting the contact between his hand and her boobs. Her mouth fell into a pout, an expression he’d never seen from her before.
“I -I’m so soooorry,” she exclaimed, clutching her chest like she could still feel his hand on her. She dipped her body deeply forward. “I am just so happy to be partnered with you. I forgot my manners.”
Lyra was bent over like a princess completing her most regal bow, so deep that her long hair brushed against the floor. Her white shirt rode up her back until the pale flesh of her narrow midsection was showing.
“It’s okay…” Evren replied, breathing deeply and taking in the marvelous sight.
Her plaid skirt flared intriguingly out around her hips and thighs. Why did he have the sudden urge to reach out and squeeze that bottom? He pushed the thought away.
“I’m just not used to girls touching me. You can stand up again…”
Lyra righted herself. The blood had flooded her face and her cheeks were more flushed than ever, but the expression she wore now was as serious as it gets.
“It’s all my fault,” she intoned, “As your support partner, it’s my responsibility to make you feel at ease. Let me start again. Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable with my presence?”
This was the same girl he knew and respected now. Her back had straightened and her eyes were serious. She had a challenge she was facing, and she’d do anything in her power to complete it. So, what would make him feel at ease once again?
“Hold on… I have to think about this,” he replied with equal seriousness.
Lyra nodded, and continued to stare at him, as though willing him to relax. Her intense eyes were having the opposite effect on him. Her gaze was making him nervous.
“Can you please turn around for a minute, while I think?” he pleaded.
“Oh, sure,” she said casually.
She dropped her bag to the side, and then turned around. But Lyra’s idea of turning around was very different from Evren’s, and as she slowly turned her body, her hips and butt moved left and right gracefully, made even more sensual by her youthful appearance.
“I’ll keep turning until you tell me to stop,” she added helpfully, tossing her head so her hair flew from her face.
She was slowly turning her body around in a magnificent display of finesse. So provocative!
“Oooooookay…” was the only reply Evren could produce. This wasn’t putting him at ease. The intriguing way Lyra’s body moved as she turned was messing with his head. How could he think clearly, when a gorgeous girl was flaunting herself right in front of him?
“Stop… stop please! Can you just sit down so we can talk?”
“Okay, I’ll sit over here,” she said, spinning one last time. Her hair whipped around as she gestured to the chair at the other desk. Turning the chair to face his direction, Lyra moved as though she were performing the final steps in her dance.
Her arms raised while her fingers combed through her silky hair. Her slender legs stretched out in front of her, then crossed and uncrossed, revealing the briefest glimpse of her underwear. Then she was once again motionless, her vibrant eyes fixated on him.
“Thanks,” was all he could muster. Then he leveled with her. “So, you don’t remember living with me at all?”
“What do you mean?” she asked suspiciously, “This is the first time we’ve ever met.”
“Not for me, it’s not. You see…”
And Evren launched into his story. He poured everything out to her, in a rush of events, dates, discussions and insinuations. Evren dumped everything he could remember out in a long, cathartic monologue.
Lyra, for her part, acted like the perfect audience. Not interrupting and not breaking focus, nodding along and occasionally running her hands through her hair, encouraging him to tell more. She watched him closely as he went on and on, smiling, frowning, and expressing sympathy in just the right places.
His voice was growing hoarse by the time Evren's account drew to a close. He was describing the last time he’d seen her. Well, not her, but the year-older version of her, when he’d found her in the dance hall, talking with Joshua. Then, he finished by off-handedly mentioning the bust that had blasted him with lasers and waking up a few hours ago in this new world.
Silence filled the few feet of room that separated them, and Evren realized he was holding his breath, waiting for her to respond. It looked to him like Lyra was struggling to find the words to say what she was thinking.
“Well…” he prodded, “Do you believe me?”
“Of course, I believe you,” she replied. A smile blooming on her face. He was still so unaccustomed to seeing her smile.
“You know far too much about me for it not to be true.”
He nodded appreciatively.
“And I definitely don’t think you’re crazy!”
Evren frowned. That kind of sounded like she thought he was crazy.
“But the truth is, I don’t know how to react, because it sounds like you think I’m a bitch, even though I’ve never met you before.”
“I don’t think you’re a bitch! I just said that you threw me out so you can partner with some guy named Frederick. And then again with a guy named Joshua.”
“Okay, wait,” she held up a finger defensively. Her eyes were on fire and Evren couldn’t help but admire the fervor with which she spoke. “I’ve never met any boy named Frederick before in my life, but I do know a Joshua… he’s the same age as me, but he’s my cousin.”
“Oooooh…” Evren replied, this new information clicking into place. “Do you think you were leaving me for your cousin?”
“No, I don’t think so, Evren!” she said vehemently, “Because Joshua isn’t even a caster. He’s a freshman Healer, so NO, I’m not going to leave you for him!”
Evren fell silent again. He had said all he wanted to say, but honestly, how much could he blame the girl sitting in front of him for the wrongs the other Lyra had done against him? Was he the bad guy here?
“Listen, I am nothing like that girl you knew in your other Academy. I am loyal and hard-working, and I’m going to be one of the best casters in our class. So what can I do to make you trust me?”
She slid off the chair, her knees hitting the stone floor, and she slowly and seductively crawled across the space between them. Evren didn’t stop her. He watched the girl he’d always looked up to and had longed to be happily partnered with, as she crawled towards him, whispering to him, asking him what she needed to do to be his partner.
Why was this even an issue? It was always his dream for Lyra to accept him. So now that she was, why was he hesitating? He glanced over at the list he had written mere minutes ago. The words were still wet on the page:
Goals in this New World
Become a Top Ranked caster and make my parents proud.
Find out what happened in the Hall of Records.
Do not accept the first partner that is assigned to you.
Stand up for yourself. Don’t get pushed around.
None of those goals involved becoming Lyra's partner. In fact, based on his previous experiences, she didn't really like him at all. She had just stayed with him until another guy became available. Was he losing his perspective on what was important?
He turned back towards her. She was kneeling in front of him now, leaning forward. Her arms were held tightly between her thighs, highlighting her chest in a seductive pose, but her eyes were hungry and filled with passion. Even in this world, she was playing him.
“You want to make it up to me?” he asked.
She pouted sadly, moving her head up and down in a slow nod.
“Okay, then we’ll live together, as trial partners, but you’ve got to follow my rules…”
Evren spun around and produced a new sheet of paper. Then, he proceeded to outline a list of rules. As he wrote, Lyra stood behind him, and draped her arms over his broad shoulders.
His body stiffened and he had to stop writing. This wasn’t good. He couldn’t function if she was constantly touching him. All these powerful chemical reactions in his brain and in his place down there couldn't be good for him either.
“Rule #3,” he declared, “No body contact, except for hands and arms.”
“I guess I can live with that,” Lyra sighed. Her hands moved from his shoulders to his triceps, which she immediately started to knead with her strong fingers. A tingling sensation filled Evren's muscles, which he suspected was her feeding mana into him.
“Rule #4,” he added, squirming in her grasp. “No rubbing or massaging, unless you ask first.”
“Aw, crumbs,” she said with a pout, “Can I rub your arms for a while.”
“Not while I’m writing. It destroys my focus.”
Lyra acquiesced. Instead of rubbing him, her hands came to rest lightly on his elbows. She was still reading over his shoulder, leaning so far over him that her hair fell over his head. It was nearly as distracting as body contact, but he let it pass because he really loved the smell and feeling the cascade of hair invoked against his cheek. He added a few more points.
“I have to tell you the names of all the boys I practice with? You’re not going to get jealous are you?” she asked teasingly.
“N -no,” he replied too quickly. Then he had to admit, “I just… I want to know if I’m losing you to some other boy.”
“Oh, Evren,” she exclaimed. She pulled his arm, turning him around so they were face-to-face.
She was standing over him, and he was looking up. A raw feeling vulnerability came creeping through him. Despite the power changing hands, this girl somehow still held the key to his happiness.
“I am never going to leave you,” she said, her voice was solid and commanding. “You said it yourself… We are destined to be support partners. So you can write that rule 100 times in my blood, because I will never break it.”
Evren believed her. But worse, he saw something in her eyes as she was speaking. A spark of possessiveness he had never seen before. Was this even the same Lyra he’d lived with all those months?
“I’ve got my own list of rules as well, Evren,” she said softly, with a hint of playfulness. “There’s only one rule on the list and it says that, no matter what happens, Evren will stay with Lyra forever.”
He shuddered, as the girl’s hand gently patted his arm. She smiled and the possessiveness flashed in her deep brown eyes once again.
“Isn’t that a wonderful rule?”
Evren didn’t reply. He swallowed hard and turned back to his desk, breaking the sustained eye contact, before he could trust himself to speak again.
“You’re going to have to keep that rule in your head because I’m not writing it down. This is my room and we live by my rules here.”
Lyra laughed. A rich, throaty sound. There was no mirth in it.
“Of course Evren, now what else must I do to win your trust?”