Chapter 903 - InfernoKnight (4)
Irina stared into his eyes, her breath still slightly uneven from all the excitement.
Astron was still smiling.
A real, genuine smile.
And now that she was actually looking at him like this, sitting on top of him, her hands still gripping onto him from when she tackled him—
This looked a bit… strange.
Her face heated up slightly, but she didn't move.
A part of her—no, a big part of her—didn't want this moment to end so quickly.
So instead of backing away, she smirked, placing her hands on his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing beneath her palms.
"Did you enjoy it?" she asked, her voice teasing.
Astron didn't answer right away.
Instead, his sharp purple eyes met hers directly, searching, thinking.
Then, slowly, he nodded.
"Yeah," he admitted, his voice calm, steady. "I did."
Irina felt a flutter in her chest—one she refused to acknowledge.
Instead, she clicked her tongue, smirk widening. "Tch. Look at you. I've created a monster."
Astron tilted his head slightly. "A monster?"
"Yeah." She leaned in slightly, narrowing her eyes. "You just trash-talked in chat, won a clutch fight, and now you're smiling like you actually had fun. You're turning into a real gamer."
Astron let out a small hum, his gaze still locked onto hers. "And that's a bad thing?"
Irina hesitated.
Her fingers curled slightly against his shirt as she thought about it.
'No. Not at all.'
But that wasn't something she was going to say out loud.
So instead, she chuckled, sitting up slightly while still keeping her hands against him. "No, it's just unexpected. You—you never react like this to things."
Astron's eyes softened just slightly. "Maybe it's because you're here."
Irina's brain crashed.
For a second, she forgot how to function.
'Wait. WAIT. WHAT?'
Her smirk wavered for a fraction of a second before she forced it back. "Hah! Look at you. You're just saying that because you won."
"Maybe," Astron said simply, but his eyes were still on her.
Still watching her.
Still smiling.
And somehow, that felt more dangerous than anything else.
Irina cleared her throat,
Irina cleared her throat, forcing herself to focus.
But he was still looking at her.
Still watching.
Still smiling.
She swallowed hard, feeling something unsettling creep up her spine—not fear, not discomfort, but something far more dangerous.
Then, in that same calm, composed voice, Astron spoke again.
"Will you keep sitting like that?"
Irina blinked. "Huh?"
Astron subtly tilted his head, his eyes lowering slightly.
Then, with minimal effort, he signaled toward her position.
That was when reality hit her.
She was straddling him.
Her legs were on either side of his waist, her bare thighs pressing against him because of the comfortable, loose clothes she usually wore in her dorm.
Her entire body was basically on top of his.
Her face went completely red.
And then—it got worse.
Because Astron, without breaking eye contact, said,
"I remember telling you that I am a man as well. Did you forget?"
Irina froze.
Her brain stopped functioning.
But her body did not.
Because she felt it.
Her legs, pressing against him.
Her hips, touching.
Everything about this position suddenly became very, very clear.
And Astron?
He was still calm, still unfazed, but there was something in his gaze.
A quiet challenge.
A test.
Irina's fingers twitched slightly against his chest, her breath hitching for just a second.
But she refused to lose so easily.
So she tilted her head, smirking through the raging heat in her face.
"What if I did?" she said, keeping her voice steady.
Astron hummed, his hand resting casually on the couch, his fingers tapping slightly against the fabric.
"If you did forget," he murmured, "then I need to remind you."
"How?" Irina asked, eyes narrowing slightly.
Astron's gaze darkened just a fraction.
"In a way that you may not want," he said smoothly, "right at this moment."
Irina's heart skipped.
She understood what he meant.
She understood completely.
And because she understood, she reacted instantly.
With zero hesitation, she jumped off him, scrambling away like her life depended on it.
She landed on the floor, blinking rapidly as her brain struggled to process everything at once.
"Huh…"
She exhaled sharply, hands on her knees, trying to steady herself.
A breather.
She needed a breather.
Astron, still leaning against the couch, watched her with that same unreadable expression.
But his lips—
They were twitching slightly.
Like he had won.
Irina gritted her teeth, pointing at him.
"You—!"
Astron raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"
Irina clicked her tongue, turning away with a deep, frustrated sigh.
"Damn it. I walked right into that one," she muttered.
She heard a small exhale from behind her.
A laugh?
No way.
She turned, narrowing her eyes—but Astron was already looking back at the screen.
As if nothing just happened.
Irina groaned, running a hand through her hair.
This guy…
This guy was too much.
Irina stretched her arms, letting out a deep breath, when something on the side caught her eye.
The clock.
She blinked.
"Oh?"
She leaned forward, squinting at the numbers.
It was already midnight.
"...What?"
She turned back, processing the realization. They had been playing together for hours.
Not just one or two. A long time.
When had it even gotten this late?
And then, as she shifted her gaze, she saw him.
Lying there on the couch, still relaxed, his arms resting lazily at his sides, his sharp eyes already on her as if he had been waiting.
"Now noticed the time?" Astron asked.
Irina raised an eyebrow. "You noticed?"
"I did."
"Then why didn't you say anything?"
Astron tilted his head slightly. "You looked like you were having fun. And I was having fun too."
Irina stilled for a moment.
Her fingers curled slightly on her lap, something tugging at the edge of her thoughts.
"...Oh."
Astron watched her reaction, his expression unreadable. "Is there a problem with that?"
Irina crossed her arms, lips pressing into a thin line. "Yes, there is."
Astron blinked, waiting. "What?"
Irina frowned, shifting in her seat, knowing full well she was acting a little unreasonable.
And she didn't care.
"Because now it's late," she muttered. "And you're still here."
Astron raised an eyebrow. "I was here because you wanted me to be."
Irina looked away. "Yeah, well—now I'm blaming you for that."
Astron exhaled lightly, a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes. "I see."
Irina glared. "No, you don't."
Astron leaned back slightly. "You're upset because time passed too quickly."
Irina clicked her tongue. "That's not—"
But it was.
And he knew it.
And she hated that he knew it.
Astron's gaze softened just slightly. "I don't see the issue."
Irina grumbled, turning away.
It was his fault.
If he wasn't so damn fun to play with, if he wasn't so easy to talk to, if he didn't make the game feel so different—
She wouldn't be feeling this way.
But now, the night was over, and for some reason, she didn't want that.
And that pissed her off.
"You don't want to sleep?" Astron asked.
Irina let out a deep sigh, crossing her arms and sulking. "Tch. Shut up."
Astron watched her for a moment before speaking again. "You look like a little kid whose toys were taken away so that her parents could make her sleep."
Irina snapped her head toward him, glaring. "Excuse me?!"
Astron didn't react, as usual.
Instead, he simply stood up.
Irina frowned as he walked over to the window, his movements calm, precise. He stopped beside her, looking outside at the academy grounds.
"The view from here seems not bad," he murmured.
Irina scoffed, still grumpy. "If you want this view, you can just hit the top 10."
Astron glanced at her briefly, then looked back out the window. "If I were to hit top 10, I would see this view every day. And it would soon lose its meaning."
She couldn't retort it.
Chapter 904 - InfernoKnight (5)
"If I were to hit top 10, I would see this view every day. And it would soon lose its meaning."
Irina paused.
She opened her mouth, then closed it.
And when she finally found a reply, all she could say was, "...You really know how to suck the fun out of things."
Astron gave a quiet hum, barely acknowledging her words.
She sighed, rolling her eyes. "Yeah, yeah… Mister quick reply. You're always right."
Astron didn't respond immediately.
Instead, he simply kept looking out at the night sky, his gaze distant.
Irina followed his line of sight.
The moon had risen high, its silver glow casting over the academy grounds, illuminating the quiet streets below. And in that light, his face was soft.
No sharpness. No guarded expression.
Just… calm.
Irina stared at him for a long moment.
'What is this feeling?'
There was something about this moment.
Something about the way the night had stretched longer than expected.
Something about how she didn't want it to end.
And something about him—standing there, gazing at the moon, looking like he belonged somewhere beyond the present.
It felt like something was about to come.
Something was about to change.
Irina couldn't explain it.
This feeling.
It had no logic behind it, no real basis, and yet, she felt it all the same.
Something about tonight was different.
And she didn't know why.
Her gaze flickered between the moon above and the quiet expression on Astron's face.
That distant look of his—it made her feel like he was somewhere else entirely, somewhere she couldn't reach.
And she didn't like that.
Before she could even think, her fingers moved on their own.
She reached out—grabbing the hem of his t-shirt.
Astron stiffened slightly, as if pulled back into the present.
He raised his eyebrows, turning his head toward her.
"Hmm?"
Irina's grip on the fabric tightened, her own thoughts still uncertain.
"You like this now, right?" she asked, her voice quieter than before.
Astron blinked. "Like this now?"
"Like living like this," she clarified, her eyes not leaving his.
Astron paused.
A small silence stretched between them.
Then, carefully, he asked, "Where did that come from?"
Irina clicked her tongue, her grip on his shirt not loosening.
"Just answer my question."
Astron narrowed his eyes slightly. "What kind of question is this?"
Irina exhaled sharply, looking away for a second before meeting his gaze again.
"I'm asking," she said, her voice steady, "now, are you loving the life you're living?"
Astron didn't reply right away.
For the first time in a while, he hesitated.
His sharp purple eyes studied her, as if trying to figure out why she was even asking this.
And for a moment—
He looked like he didn't have an answer.
The fact that Astron didn't immediately answer bothered Irina more than she expected.
Because that wasn't like him.
Astron always had an answer. He always had something to say, something quick, logical, and precise.
Yet now?
Now he was silent.
And when he finally did speak, his voice was quieter than usual.
"Living like this… it is indeed strange."
Irina's grip on his shirt tightened slightly.
"Why?" she asked, her amber eyes locked onto him.
Astron exhaled lightly, his gaze dropping to where her fingers were still holding onto him.
"Why?" he repeated, almost as if he was asking himself. "It is hard to explain."
Irina narrowed her eyes, her grip refusing to loosen.
"Try," she pressed.
Astron's gaze slowly lifted back to hers.
And under the moonlight, her fiery red hair—normally wild, untamed—looked softer, calmer.
She wasn't just asking for an answer.
She was looking for something.
And Astron knew that.
So after a brief pause, he said, "If I were to tell you… I didn't know how to live before."
Irina's breath hitched slightly.
She didn't move.
Didn't react.
She just… stared at him.
Because the way he said it—so simply, like it was just a fact—made something deep in her chest tighten.
Astron didn't break eye contact with her.
"I lost something really important."
His voice was calm—too calm.
Like he was stating a fact rather than talking about something that had shattered his world.
Irina didn't say anything. She just watched him, her grip on his shirt still firm, her heart beating a little faster for a reason she didn't want to think about.
Astron continued, his tone quiet, steady, but carrying something deeper beneath the surface.
"And when I lost it… my whole world crumbled at that moment."
Irina swallowed, her throat suddenly dry.
He had never spoken like this before.
He had never given her this kind of glimpse into what he had been through.
Though she herself knew what happened to him, she also knew times like this were really important.
"So from then on," Astron continued, "I didn't know how I lived at all."
Irina's fingers twitched against his shirt.
"It was like…" he paused for a second, his eyes darkening slightly, "I just went on with life, using vengeance as my fuel."
She knew what that meant.
Everything he did. Everything he was.
Fueled by something that had been taken from him.
Irina's lips parted, but no words came out.
Her chest felt tight.
She wasn't sure what she wanted to say.
So instead, she asked, "And now?"
Astron's expression didn't change.
"Now…" he murmured, "I am still doing that."
Irina sucked in a slow breath.
She should've expected that answer.
Of course he was. That was who he was.
But before she could dwell on that, Astron's eyes softened just a little.
"But," he added, his gaze flickering to hers, "if you told me at the start of the academy that I would be living like this—gaming with you, staying up late over something so trivial…"
He let out a small, almost humorless scoff.
"Me from that time would have just scoffed in your face."
Irina let out a short laugh, shaking her head.
She could remember it so clearly—the start of the semester, the first time she had met Astron.
Just like herself, he had been one of the least likable people in the academy.
And she meant that in the most literal way possible.
The her from back then?
She had been arrogant, impatient, someone who looked down on weak people. She despised those who held her back, who made her unable to reach her 'potential'—and Astron?
He had been exactly that.
And unfortunately for both of them, they had been put on the same team.
She tried to command him, tried to make him submit—but unlike most people, he never did.
He scoffed at her antics, disregarded her presence, and outright ignored her when she got too annoying.
And that had driven her insane.
Remembering that version of him—the cold, untouchable, distant version—compared to how he was now…
She could see the difference.
No, she could feel it.
Astron exhaled softly, his gaze shifting back to the moonlit sky. "I guess I should thank you for that."
Irina tilted her head slightly, eyeing him with curiosity. "Thank me for what?"
"For everything," he said simply.
Irina blinked. "That's vague."
Astron didn't immediately respond, his expression calm but thoughtful. Then, in a quieter voice, he continued, "I don't know how you are doing that, or why… but sometimes, I feel like you are intentionally looking for things that would make me feel alive again."
Irina's breath hitched for a split second.
Because he was spot on.
How?
She wanted to ask, but then again—it was Astron.
Of course, he would notice something like this.
Her lips pressed together before she clicked her tongue, covering up the momentary break in her composure with a smirk. "You should be really grateful, indeed."
Astron let out the smallest huff, playing along. "Yeah, your majesty."
Irina's smirk widened slightly. "Good. Now, my knight… kneel before me."
Her mouth twitched slightly as she said it, half-joking, half-teasing.
Astron turned to look at her, his expression as neutral as ever. "I may not be able to do that."
Irina let out a dramatic sigh. "Hmph. Disrespectful knight."
Then, without warning, she reached forward—grabbing him by the collar.
Astron's eyes widened slightly, but he didn't pull away.
Irina stared at him for a brief moment, taking in the quiet challenge in his gaze, the unreadable expression, the way he simply let her do as she pleased.
Her heart pounded.
And before she could overthink it, before she could even try to stop herself, she leaned in—
And kissed him on his lips.
Chapter 905 - InfernoKnight (6)
Irina's lips pressed against his, the heat of the moment swallowing her whole.
She expected hesitation. Expected him to freeze, maybe even pull away.
But Astron didn't move.
Didn't resist.
Didn't stop her.
His breath was steady, warm against her skin, and the realization sent something sharp, something hot curling deep in her stomach.
'Damn it…'
She was the one who started this, but now—now she felt like she was the one losing control.
Her fingers curled against his collar, tightening ever so slightly.
She kissed him again, harder this time.
And still—Astron let her.
Let her pour everything into it, let her grip him like she was trying to anchor herself, let her press closer without a single word of resistance.
Because this wasn't just impulse.
It wasn't just heat.
It was everything—everything she had been holding back all night.
All the lingering glances, the way her pulse spiked whenever he spoke in that unreadable, low voice of his, the frustration of wanting something but refusing to acknowledge it—
She had buried it. Suppressed it. Told herself this wasn't why she had invited him over, wasn't why she had made him stay so late.
And yet—
She wanted this.
Had wanted it from the moment she realized how much she enjoyed just being near him.
Astron finally moved.
Not to pull away.
Not to break the kiss.
But just enough to tilt his head slightly, letting her deepen it—just enough for her to feel the shift in his breath, the barely-there tension in his jaw.
Irina's chest rose and fell, her heart hammering against her ribs.
'Why…?'
Why wasn't he stopping her?
Why wasn't he teasing her?
Why wasn't he saying something to break the tension, to throw her off like he always did?
Her pulse quickened, her hands fisting tighter into his shirt as if daring him to react.
But Astron—damn him—just let her.
Let her be selfish.
Let her take.
Let her want.
And the worst part?
She could feel him.
Feel the warmth of his skin through the thin fabric of his shirt, feel the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath her palms, feel the quiet restraint in the way he simply let her do as she pleased.
It wasn't rejection.
It was something worse.
It was him letting her decide.
Letting her be the one to break.
Irina let out a sharp breath against his lips, her mind spinning.
This was dangerous.
This was not a game.
This was—
She pulled away.
Barely.
Just enough to hover close, their breaths still mingling, her forehead almost touching his.
Her amber eyes flickered open, burning with something she refused to name.
Astron's sharp purple gaze was already on her.
Watching.
Always watching.
Irina swallowed, her grip still tight on his collar, her fingers still refusing to let go.
She was breathing too hard.
Her heart was racing too fast.
And he—
He was still calm.
Still unreadable.
Still just… letting her.
Her lips parted slightly, words forming on the tip of her tongue—
Irina's breath came in shallow, uneven pulls, her grip still tight on his collar, her mind spiraling into chaos.
'This isn't the first time.'
That thought rang louder than any other.
Because it wasn't.
This wasn't the first time she had kissed him. Wasn't the first time she had felt this fire burn through her veins, consuming her from the inside out. Wasn't the first time she had lost herself in the feel of him—his warmth, his quiet presence, the way he always just let her.
But tonight—tonight, it felt different.
Because tonight, she knew.
Knew what she had told him. Knew what she had convinced herself. Knew that she had said—or maybe she had only thought it?—that she didn't invite him here for this.
She hadn't, right?
Right?
Irina's mind raced, replaying every moment, every excuse, every time she had almost caught herself staring for too long, sitting too close, waiting just a little too eagerly for him to show up at her door.
'Shit. Did I actually say it? Or did I just think it?'
Now, everything was messy. Everything was blurred.
Because the truth—the ugly, undeniable truth—was that she had wanted this.
Maybe not from the start. Maybe not consciously.
But somewhere between the teasing, the back-and-forth, the way he had let her get lost in the game, the way he had looked at her like that—calm, patient, unreadable but there—it had built.
Simmered.
Boiled over.
And now?
Now she was here, again, breathless, heart pounding, gripping him like she wasn't sure she could let go.
Astron breathed.
A slow, steady inhale, followed by an exhale just as measured. The kind that spoke volumes. The kind that told her—he knew.
He had always known.
And then, he looked at her.
Not smug. Not teasing.
Just watching.
And then, with that same infuriating, unreadable calm, he tilted his head slightly.
"Did you have your fill?"
Irina's eyes snapped up.
Her grip on his collar twitched.
'This. Bastard.'
She glared at him, heat flaring sharp and immediate in her chest.
Look at him. Look at this smug, infuriating, completely composed bastard.
Sitting there like that, like nothing had just happened, like she hadn't just kissed him senseless, like he wasn't even bothered.
He was doing this on purpose.
She knew he was doing this on purpose.
The way his voice carried that infuriatingly smooth tone, the way his purple eyes barely wavered, the way he knew exactly what he was saying.
He was waiting for her to react.
He was letting her dig herself deeper.
'Oh, you absolute piece of—'
Irina clenched her jaw, her pulse still wild, her fingers curling tighter into the fabric of his shirt. She refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her flustered.
She forced herself to scoff, to roll her eyes, to summon that biting confidence she knew was still buried beneath this whirlwind of chaos in her head.
"Ha. You wish that was enough for me," she sneered, forcing a smirk onto her lips even as her heart still pounded.
Astron blinked, unfazed. "Is that so?"
His voice—low, steady—carried something else now. Something quieter.
Something dangerous.
"Yeah."
Irina held his gaze, refusing to waver, refusing to give him even the smallest edge in this battle of wills.
'If he's going to play like this, fine. I'll raise the stakes.'
With a slow, deliberate movement, she shifted her grip from his collar, sliding her arms up and around his neck. She felt the way his body tensed, just for a fraction of a second, before he returned to that maddening calm.
She leaned in, her lips barely brushing the shell of his ear.
"I did not."
Her voice was quiet, but the weight behind it was unmistakable.
And then—
"Carry me to bed."
She felt his breath still.
Felt the way his body stiffened ever so slightly.
And when she pulled back, just enough to meet his eyes—
His sharp, ever-composed purple gaze was wide.
It was a flicker of surprise, a brief crack in that unreadable expression, and Irina felt something smug curl in her chest.
Until—
"This… Are you sure you are aware what this means?"
Irina's mind stopped.
Her confidence shattered instantly.
'…Wait. What?'
The heat on her skin intensified at an alarming rate, her own words crashing back down on her.
'Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no—'
She did it again.
She did it again.
Just like last time. Just like during the semester break, when she had stupidly said something without thinking, completely unaware of the implication until it was too late.
Her entire body locked up.
"I—"
Her breath hitched.
"I didn't mean it like that."
Astron blinked once, and then—
"Figured."
His voice was so damn neutral. Like he had already known she was going to panic.
Like he had expected this.
Like he was already winning.
Irina clenched her jaw, barely holding back the urge to strangle him, but before she could fully process her humiliation—
Astron moved.
Effortlessly.
Before she could react, before she could shove him away, before she could even breathe—
He scooped her up.
A clean, flawless motion.
One second, she was sitting there, struggling to recover from her own damn words—
And the next?
She was in his arms.
A princess carry.
Irina froze.
Her entire system shut down.
Her legs were off the ground.
His arms were supporting her with infuriating ease.
And worst of all—he was looking at her with a straight face.
"But I guess, when InfernoQueen wants it, I shall comply."
He said it so flatly, so calmly, that it took Irina a full two seconds to even register the words.
And the moment she did—
She facepalmed.
Hard.
"Put me down."
Astron blinked. "Was it not good?"
She let out a slow, agonized exhale through her fingers. "No."
"I see."
There was a brief pause.
Then, with absolute seriousness—
"I will try to do better next time."
Irina groaned into her palm.
'I am going to kill him.'
Chapter 906 - InfernoKnight (7)
The next morning, Irina stirred before the world fully awakened.
A hazy warmth blanketed her senses—the quiet hum of early dawn, the soft rustling of the wind against the window, the first golden traces of sunrise bleeding into the sky. It was the kind of moment where time felt slower, where the air still carried the last remnants of the night, cool and crisp against her skin.
Her eyes fluttered open.
The soft glow of morning light filtered through her dorm's curtains, stretching long, lazy beams across the room. The warmth settled against her face, gentle but insistent, pulling her from the final traces of sleep.
She inhaled deeply, blinking away the fog in her mind.
And then—
"You are awake."
A voice—low, steady, familiar.
Her breath hitched.
She turned her head—slowly, hesitantly—until her gaze met a pair of sharp, unreadable purple eyes.
"Eh?"
That was all she could manage.
Astron was right there.
Too close.
Too awake.
The morning light cast soft shadows across his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his features, the cool, unbothered expression he always wore. But it wasn't just that—it was him.
In her bed.
Oh, right.
She hadn't let him leave.
She had told him—no, ordered him to stay.
This was her plan.
She had made him sleep here, all because—what? Because she felt like it? Because she didn't want him to leave?
Irina's face burned.
She thought she had planned this out—had everything under control. But she hadn't accounted for waking up and seeing him. Right. There.
"You…"
Her voice came out slower than she intended, still hoarse from sleep.
Astron blinked once, watching her carefully. His expression didn't change.
"What?"
Irina narrowed her eyes, staring at him.
Something was off.
Astron always woke up earlier than sunrise. It was routine. It was him. Every morning, he was up before the world, training before the academy even stirred.
So why was he still here?
He should have left.
He should have been long gone.
But instead—
He was still lying there.
Still watching her.
Like he had been waiting for her to wake up.
Irina's heart skipped.
Her grip on the blanket tightened.
'No. No, no, no. There is no way—'
"Why are you still here?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.
Astron didn't react immediately. He simply held her gaze, unblinking, as if waiting for something more. Then, tilting his head slightly, he spoke in that ever-calm, ever-neutral voice.
"What do you mean?"
Irina exhaled sharply, forcing herself to regain some semblance of composure. She couldn't let him see how much he was throwing her off. She couldn't—
Her grip on the blanket tightened. "You always train in the morning," she pointed out, voice still scratchy from sleep. "It's routine. You wake up before the sun, head out before anyone else, and—"
She stopped herself, frowning slightly.
Because now that she was saying it out loud, she realized something.
She knew his schedule.
Too well.
'Wait. How do I even—'
Before she could question herself further, Astron replied with his usual even tone, "I decided to skip training today."
Her mind blanked.
Her eyes widened.
"What?"
Astron blinked, his expression unreadable. "What, what? Is this too much of a surprise?"
Irina opened her mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.
'No, hold on. That is surprising.'
Astron was obsessive about his training. He didn't skip. Not for bad weather, not for exhaustion, not for anything. Even after missions, he still made sure to fit it into his schedule. The idea of him voluntarily skipping was insane.
She tried to process it.
Astron… choosing to sleep in? Choosing to stay?
'No way.'
She narrowed her eyes, suspicious. "…Why?"
Astron remained calm as ever, as if he had expected the question. "Yesterday, we went to bed quite late. I decided to take a day off today."
His voice was smooth, casual, like it was the most logical decision in the world. Like it was something he did all the time.
But it wasn't.
This wasn't normal for him.
This wasn't something he did.
Irina felt her pulse jump, and she hated that it did.
'He's lying.'
Not a full lie, but—he was leaving something out.
He wasn't just skipping because of sleep deprivation.
Something else was at play here.
And then—
Before she could demand further explanation—
Astron's lips twitched ever so slightly. The faintest, most infuriating hint of amusement flickered in his sharp purple eyes as he added,
"Unless… did you want me to leave?"
Irina's brain short-circuited.
Her face heated up instantly, her body reacting before her mind could catch up.
"Wh—?!"
The sheer audacity of this bastard.
She grabbed the nearest pillow and launched it straight at his face.
Astron caught it.
Effortlessly.
Because of course he did.
The worst part?
He didn't even look remotely surprised.
Didn't flinch. Didn't waver.
Just sat there, holding the pillow, watching her with that unreadable, calm expression that made her want to kick him straight off the bed.
Irina, still burning with embarrassment, gritted her teeth and yanked the blanket over her head.
"Shut up."
Astron hummed, still holding the pillow she had thrown. "Was that supposed to be an answer?"
"I said shut up."
"Hmm."
Irina stayed under the blanket for a moment longer, willing the heat in her face to disappear. It wasn't working.
Damn him.
Damn his calm.
Damn the way he said things like that with zero hesitation, like he wasn't completely aware of how they made her brain explode.
She exhaled sharply and sat up, the blanket sliding off her shoulders.
And then—
The loose fabric of her nightgown slipped lower, cool air brushing against her bare skin.
Astron's gaze flickered.
A small, barely noticeable shift. But she caught it.
Oh.
Oh, interesting.
Irina smirked, tilting her head slightly.
"What? Like what you see?"
Astron didn't look away.
Didn't even blink.
But there was a pause.
A small one. A fraction of a second.
Just enough for her to know.
Then, with that same unreadable, infuriating calm, he murmured, "You are getting bolder."
Irina's smirk widened. "Problem?"
Astron tilted his head slightly, studying her like he was contemplating something.
Then—
"Not now," he said smoothly, "but if you keep this up, you will have problems walking in the future."
Irina choked.
Her entire body locked up as his words settled in—casual, composed, impossible to misinterpret.
The heat that had just started to fade came raging back, twice as intense.
"Wh—?!"
This bastard.
This absolute menace.
Her face burned, the realization hitting her like a damn freight train.
'He's been saying that more often.'
Not just once.
Not just twice.
It wasn't a fluke.
It wasn't her imagination.
Before, Astron never said things like this. Never outright teased her this way, never hinted at things so blatantly.
But now—
Now, he was doing it on purpose.
Frequently.
Casually.
With zero shame.
Irina's hands clenched the blanket, her breath unsteady.
"Y-You—"
Astron watched her reaction, perfectly calm. "Yes?"
Irina hated that she had no comeback.
Hated that she was the one flustered again.
Hated that he was winning this battle so effortlessly.
She sucked in a sharp breath, her fingers twitching.
She needed to retaliate. Now.
Otherwise, he'd have too much fun knowing he could throw her off like this.
With a forced, smug smile, she lifted her chin. "Hah! Look at you, acting all confident now. Did you read a manual on how to tease?"
Astron blinked, and for a brief second, she thought she'd finally caught him off guard.
Then—
"I don't need a manual to tease you."
His voice was lower now.
Smoother.
Like he knew exactly what he was doing.
Irina's stomach flipped.
Nope. Nope, nope, nope.
Abort. Abort.
Chapter 907 - Good morning
Irina huffed, crossing her arms, trying to ignore the way her heart refused to calm down.
"Hmph. Acting all cheeky now, are we?" she muttered, narrowing her eyes.
Astron barely glanced up from whatever he was reading, completely unbothered.
"Am I?"
Irina twitched. This guy…
Without a second thought, she reached for his side, slipping her fingers under the hem of his shirt and pinching the skin beneath.
Astron didn't react.
Didn't jolt. Didn't even flinch.
Instead, he simply turned a page in his book, completely indifferent to her attack.
"Trying to retaliate?"
Irina gritted her teeth. "I swear, you're impossible."
Her fingers lingered against his bare skin longer than they should have, and that's when she felt it.
The heat.
Astron's body was warm.
Warmer than she expected, almost too warm, like he naturally radiated heat. The firm, solid feel of muscle beneath her fingertips sent an unwanted shiver down her spine, but she quickly masked it with another pinching motion—just so she wouldn't dwell on it.
Astron still didn't react.
Just let her do as she pleased.
Irina exhaled sharply, muttering under her breath as she finally pulled her hand back. Damn it. That was a mistake.
She stepped over to him, shifting her weight, curiosity flickering through her mind as she caught sight of the glowing screen in front of him.
"What are you even reading?" she asked, placing a hand on his shoulder and leaning slightly over him to see.
Astron turned the screen slightly, revealing the contents of the book he had been reading.
Irina blinked, her eyes scanning the title.
It was the same book he had been reading recently—the one on psychic magic and the mechanics of the mind.
She frowned slightly. He's still reading this?
"You're really into this stuff, huh?" she muttered, shifting her weight as she sat beside him.
Astron didn't look up, merely turning another page with the same composed patience. "It is necessary."
Irina tilted her head. "So… have you been getting better?"
Astron nodded, the movement subtle, almost absentminded. "Indeed."
Her eyebrows lifted. She hadn't expected such a direct answer. "Oh? So you've actually figured things out?"
Astron's fingers tapped against the edge of the screen, his gaze calm as he flipped to a specific section in the book. "Quite a lot, actually."
Irina squinted at the page. Dense text. Complex diagrams illustrating neural pathways, psychic flow, and magical resonance within the mind.
"You figured out the basics?" she asked, already knowing the answer.
Astron turned another page before answering. "Both the basics and higher-rank techniques."
Irina stiffened slightly.
Not because she was shocked.
But because she knew exactly what that meant.
Psychic magic was delicate. Intricate. It wasn't the kind of thing you just picked up like swordplay or elemental casting. It required control, an innate understanding of the mind's mechanics, a steady balance of mental energy.
She knew this.
Because she had learned the foundations of it.
Her own psychic magic was decent—good enough for practical use, good enough that she could cast Mind Whisper without issue.
But that was it.
She had never wanted to go further. Never felt the need to refine it beyond the bare minimum.
Because at the end of the day—
She was a fire mage first.
That was her strength. Her focus.
Her psychic magic was just a tool—nothing more.
Yet Astron—
Astron had already moved past the basics.
Her fingers twitched slightly. "You mean to tell me," she said slowly, "that you've already moved past the basics?"
Astron simply nodded.
She stared at him for a long moment. "…Can you cast spells?"
Astron leaned back slightly, adjusting his position against the couch. "Casting third-rank and higher spells is troublesome right now," he admitted. "But I can cast second-rank spells without much difficulty."
Irina narrowed her eyes. "Second-rank?"
He nodded.
She huffed, crossing her arms. "Alright, then. What are they?"
Astron finally looked up.
His gaze met hers. Calm. Steady.
"Would you like a demonstration?"
Irina snorted, rolling her shoulders. "Please, I know what these spells are."
"Do you?"
Her eyes twitched. "I know them, I just never bothered learning them properly. Waste of time."
Astron didn't argue. He merely exhaled and leaned forward slightly.
"Mind Whisper."
Before Irina could react, she felt his voice.
Not through sound.
Not through her ears.
But directly in her mind.
"Can you hear me?"
She jerked, her body stiffening instinctively.
Her head snapped toward him. "Excuse me?!"
Astron blinked. "It worked, then."
Irina scowled.
"Oh, real impressive," she muttered. "I can do that too, you know."
She didn't even need to try hard.
She flicked her fingers, focusing just slightly on him—
"Yeah, yeah, I can hear you. You don't need to flex."
This time, it was her voice inside his head.
Astron exhaled, nodding. "Good."
Irina rolled her eyes. "Tch. That's basic. If you didn't know that one by now, I'd have laughed in your face."
Astron didn't rise to the bait. Instead, he tilted his head slightly. "Would you like to see the others?"
Irina hesitated.
She knew what the other spells were. Had read about them. Had even practiced them once—long enough to understand the fundamentals before deciding she had zero interest in going further.
Still—
Curiosity burned inside her.
"Alright, fine," she muttered, shifting slightly. "Show me what you got."
Astron raised a hand.
"Psyshock."
A pulse hit her mind.
It wasn't painful—more like a sharp jolt, a sudden moment of disorientation that made her vision wobble slightly before stabilizing again.
Irina clicked her tongue, shaking her head. "Oh, that's annoying."
"It disrupts focus."
"No shit," she grumbled, rubbing her temple. "It's a pain to deal with, too. Got hit with that once during training. Almost threw a fireball into a wall."
Astron nodded, as if filing that information away.
Irina shot him a suspicious glance. "…You better not use that on me during sparring."
Astron hummed. "Noted."
That was not a yes.
She narrowed her eyes but motioned for him to continue.
He did.
The air shifted slightly—just enough for her to notice.
Then—
Whispers.
Right next to her ear.
Irina whipped her head around on reflex, looking for the source.
Nothing.
No one.
Just an empty room.
A chill ran down her spine.
Astron remained completely calm. "Phantom Echo."
Irina glared at him. "Damn you. That's so much worse than Psyshock."
"It serves its purpose," Astron said smoothly, flipping another page of his book.
Irina scowled, rubbing her arms. She hated that spell the most. It wasn't direct like Psyshock. It wasn't practical like Mind Whisper.
It was just unnerving.
And she refused to let him know how much it creeped her out.
"Fine, fine," she muttered. "Last one."
Astron glanced at her.
And then—
She felt it.
Not words.
Not a voice.
But something brushing against her mind.
Not pushing.
Not forcing its way in.
Just… touching the surface.
Like a flicker of awareness passing over her thoughts.
Irina froze.
She knew exactly what that was.
"Thought Snag."
Her heart slammed against her ribs. "You—"
Astron tilted his head slightly. "Curious."
Irina stiffened.
Her mind raced.
He had caught a surface thought.
Which meant—
Which one?!
Astron studied her reaction, then calmly said, "'His body is warmer than I thought.'"
Irina's soul left her body.
Her face exploded in heat, horror slamming through her as realization crashed over her like a tidal wave.
"YOU—"
Astron flipped another page.
Irina grabbed a pillow and slammed it straight into his face.
"YOU BASTARD!"
Astron, still unbothered, let the pillow hit him before setting it aside.
"You were thinking it," he stated.
"I—THAT'S NOT THE POINT!"
"You asked what I could do," he replied, perfectly calm.
Irina buried her face in her hands.
She was going to die.
And then kill him.
And then die again.
Chapter 908 - Good morning (2)
Irina exhaled sharply, forcing herself to push down the humiliation that was still crawling up her spine.
She had more important things to focus on.
Like the fact that Astron should not be able to do this.
Not this quickly.
Not this easily.
She sat back, arms crossed, her gaze still locked on him, trying to process what she had just witnessed.
Because this…
This was not normal.
"You…" Her voice trailed off, thoughts tangling together faster than she could sort through them. "This doesn't make sense."
Astron glanced at her, flipping another page. "What doesn't?"
Irina stared at him.
At his ridiculously calm expression. At the fact that he was treating this like some casual hobby instead of one of the most difficult magical disciplines to exist.
She clicked her tongue. "You're not supposed to be this good."
Astron hummed, but didn't argue.
Irina narrowed her eyes. "Do you even understand how ridiculous this is?"
"Explain," Astron said simply.
Irina sighed and ran a hand through her hair, trying to piece together a way to make this clear.
"Psychic magic is… different," she muttered. "It's hard. There's a reason there aren't a lot of psychic mages out there. Even among casters, people avoid it because of how much of a pain it is to learn."
Astron nodded slightly, waiting for her to continue.
She gestured vaguely, trying to put her thoughts into words.
"With normal magic, you can just focus on the basic blocks of the spell—the core structure—and once you have that, you just build the sequence from there. Like stacking pieces together."
She clenched her fist slightly, summoning a flicker of flame between her fingers to demonstrate. The fire responded immediately, natural and effortless.
"But with psychic magic…" She trailed off, clicking her tongue before shaking her head. "It's not that simple. On paper, it works the same way, but in practice?"
She let the flame die out, fixing Astron with a sharp look.
"You're dealing with the mind. The soul."
Astron didn't react, merely listening in that unreadable way of his.
Irina leaned forward slightly. "That means every single connection, every interlink between those blocks—it doesn't just sit there neatly like in fire or water magic. It's unstable. It shifts. It reacts to things you're not even aware of. The deeper you go, the harder it is to control."
She gestured to her head. "It's inside you, Astron. You're not controlling an external force—you're shaping your own thoughts, your own mental structure, and if you mess it up even slightly, it can collapse in on itself."
That was why psychic magic wasn't widely practiced.
It wasn't that people couldn't learn it.
It was that the risk of failure was too high, the requirements too complex, and the level of precision needed was beyond what most mages could handle.
It was also why she had never bothered to go deeper into it.
Sure, she could have.
She had the talent for it. She had learned the basics.
But it wasn't worth the effort—not when she could just burn her enemies to ash in half the time it took to shape a single high-level psychic spell.
So for Astron to have learned it this fast…
Irina frowned slightly, the thought coming to her before she could stop it.
"Do you have a skill or something?"
It was half a joke, half a genuine question—just something she threw out because, really, how else was she supposed to explain this?
Astron paused.
Then, without hesitation, he replied, "You are quite accurate. Didn't expect you to predict it."
Irina stared.
Her brain lagged.
Wait.
Hold on.
She had just said that randomly.
"You…" Her voice slowed as she processed his words. "You actually have a skill?"
Astron nodded. "Yes."
Irina blinked, sitting back slightly.
That was… unexpected.
Astron wasn't the type to talk about this kind of thing.
Not his abilities, not his skills, not anything related to his personal advantages. She had spent enough time around him to know that he kept those details to himself, locked up and unreadable like everything else.
But now?
Now, he was just telling her.
Just like that.
Her fingers twitched slightly.
She wouldn't say it out loud, but…
That was nice.
The fact that he trusted her enough to tell her.
The fact that he wasn't treating this like some classified secret, like something he had to keep hidden even from her.
She let the moment settle before leaning forward slightly, curiosity getting the better of her.
"Alright, spill. What kind of skill?"
Astron didn't hesitate.
"It's a passive skill. It helps me learn psychic magic more efficiently."
Irina blinked.
Wait. That was it?
She tilted her head, expecting him to continue. "That's it?"
Astron nodded. "Yes."
Irina squinted.
That was… underwhelming.
She had expected something grandiose—some kind of hidden, absurd ability that would explain how he had picked up psychic magic so quickly. Something like 'Absolute Mental Control' or 'Mind Sovereign'—something ridiculous, something fitting for how absurd his progress had been.
But no.
Just a passive skill.
Just something that helped him learn better.
She exhaled, rolling her shoulders. "I see…"
Honestly?
It was kind of nice.
Passive skills with a psychic attribute were rare. If someone did have one, it usually meant they were born with an affinity for psychic magic, making it easier for them to grasp the difficult interlinking nature of the spells.
And given how much of a nightmare psychic magic was to learn, having something that actually eased the process?
Yeah.
She wouldn't complain.
Irina leaned back slightly, crossing her arms. "Guess that explains a lot."
Astron hummed. "It does."
Irina exhaled, clicking her tongue. "Still, you didn't have to go and surpass me like this."
Astron blinked, tilting his head slightly. "Is that jealousy I hear?"
Irina scoffed, looking away. "Tch. As if. I'd rather burn things rather than working with souls."
Astron exhaled lightly. "That is so like you."
Irina smirked, pleased with herself. "Of course it is."
She stretched her arms, letting out a long breath before slumping back down onto the bed. The warmth of the morning sun had made her feel lazy, and if she was being honest, she had absolutely no desire to leave.
Without thinking too much about it, she shifted closer and rested her head against Astron's shoulder.
A comfortable silence settled between them.
She could feel the steady rise and fall of his breath, the familiar warmth of his presence, and—honestly?
She could stay like this for a while.
"Don't want to go to class?" Astron asked, his voice low and smooth.
"No."
"Is that so?"
"Mhm…"
Astron didn't say anything for a moment.
For a split second, Irina thought he might actually let her get away with this.
Then—
"We should get out."
Irina groaned dramatically. "Ughhh. You just had to ruin the moment."
Astron's expression remained calm, unimpressed. "You need grades to maintain. Do you want your mother to mark me?"
Irina twitched.
That… was actually a valid concern.
She grumbled under her breath, but Astron wasn't finished.
"She has already marked you," she pointed out, smirking slightly.
"Yes," Astron admitted. "At least don't give her any reason to reinforce it."
Irina sighed. Damn it.
He knew how to get her moving.
Because, yeah—she liked to mess around. She liked to act lazy. But she wasn't actually careless about her responsibilities.
With a slow stretch, she finally pushed herself up.
"Fine, fine," she muttered. "I'm getting up."
Astron simply nodded, as if this outcome had been inevitable.
Irina rolled her shoulders, shaking off the last remnants of sleep, before glancing at him.
"Next time, don't remind me of responsibilities when I'm comfortable," she said, smirking.
"Noted," Astron replied.
Though, judging by the faintest flicker of amusement in his eyes—
Yeah.
He was definitely going to do it again.
Chapter 909 - Good Morning (3)
Steam clung to Irina's skin as she stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around herself while stretching out her sore muscles. The rush of warm water had done its job—she was fully awake now.
She ran a hand through her damp hair, exhaling. Alright. Time to get moving.
But the moment she stepped toward her dresser—
The scent hit her.
Something delicious.
Her stomach growled instantly, and she almost cursed at herself because—of course.
Astron was already cooking.
Irina clicked her tongue. This guy…
She had known the moment she stepped into the shower that he would be ahead of her. He had already told her he had taken a shower when he woke up, and she knew for a fact that he wasn't the type to start the day without one if he had a choice.
And now?
Now, the mouthwatering smell of breakfast was assaulting her senses, making her body betray her completely.
Irina hated how good he was at this.
She had promised herself countless times that she would learn how to cook properly—actually put in the effort, actually follow through—but life, responsibilities, and her own laziness always got in the way.
And now, every time Astron did something like this, she remembered.
And every time, she felt defeated all over again.
Still wrapped in her towel, she grabbed a t-shirt from her dresser, pulling it over her head. It was a loose, comfortable fit—one of her favorites. Then, with a flick of her fingers, she cast a simple heat spell, drying her damp hair in seconds.
She shook it out, the lingering warmth brushing against her scalp before dissipating.
Satisfied, she stretched again before making her way down toward the source of her suffering—
And there he was.
Astron stood at the counter, his movements precise and unbothered, as if cooking was nothing more than an extension of himself.
A pan sizzled lightly, the aroma of seasoned eggs and crisping toast filling the air. A second plate already had what looked like freshly cut fruit, arranged neatly in a way that Irina knew he wasn't even thinking about—his instincts just made everything aesthetic as hell without effort.
She leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, her voice carrying just a hint of mock irritation.
Irina smirked as she watched him work, shifting her weight against the doorframe.
"You know, you should really consider working as a cook."
Astron, still flipping the eggs in the pan with infuriating precision, barely glanced at her. "Why?"
Irina stretched her arms over her head, humming. "You could make a lot of money off this. Good food, good hands, good technique—" she gestured toward the counter, "chefs get paid ridiculously well."
Astron exhaled lightly. "You're suggesting this because you don't want to cook yourself, aren't you?"
Irina ignored that.
Instead, a stray thought popped into her head—a memory from years ago.
A cooking show.
She had watched it as a kid, one of those high-class gourmet programs where the chefs cooked right in front of the customers. Some of them were beautiful, others had a sharp, commanding aura, and all of them had this magnetic pull that made people obsess over them.
It was a known thing, right?
Good-looking chefs? People went crazy over them.
And Astron—
Irina's eyes unconsciously trailed down from his shoulders, past the way his fitted shirt rested against his frame, down to the way his muscles shifted subtly under his movements.
'…This guy.'
Her lips pressed together.
Because damn it, he had changed.
If he had been sharp before, now he was razor-edged.
That cold, unreadable face. That effortless grace in everything he did. The kind of beauty that wasn't just about looks, but about presence—the kind that made people look twice without even realizing why.
And if he were to become a chef?
If he worked in one of those high-end restaurants where people watched the cooking happen?
Oh, people would lose their minds.
The hype would be insane.
Irina's expression twitched.
She did not like the idea of random customers going crazy over him.
At all.
She crossed her arms. "I take it back."
Astron turned his head slightly, eyebrows lifting just barely. "Why?"
Irina huffed. "You're not allowed to work as a cook."
Astron blinked. "…I never said I would."
"Even if you didn't say it, you are not allowed."
Astron stared at her, unimpressed. "That's illogical."
Irina waved a hand dismissively. "Doesn't matter. I've decided."
Astron gave her a long, unimpressed stare before finally asking, "Why?"
Irina smirked, tilting her head slightly. "No reason."
Astron narrowed his eyes slightly. "No reason?"
She shrugged. "Because I want to. Any problem?"
A long, drawn-out silence.
Then, Astron exhaled through his nose. "Your demands are becoming more and more unreasonable."
Irina grinned. "Hehe… that's my charm."
Astron rolled his eyes, but didn't argue.
Which meant—
"See? You can't refute it," she teased, stepping forward and leaning over his shoulder.
She almost pressed up against him, but stopped just short, peering over his arm at the pan. "So, what are you cooking?"
Astron barely reacted to her proximity, though she did catch the small flicker of his eyes toward her before he returned his attention to the stove.
"Just like your fridge at Emberheart Estate," he said evenly, "this fridge was also quite empty. So I couldn't cook much."
Irina blinked.
Then she looked at the counter.
Then at the plates.
Then at the very much full table that had everything from perfectly cooked eggs, toast, fruit, and even some pastries.
She squinted. "...You call this not much?"
Astron hummed. "It is limited."
Irina clicked her tongue. "You…"
She glanced at the ingredients again, realization clicking in her head.
"Wait. Where the hell did you get all this?"
Astron flipped the egg onto a plate, speaking casually, "From the place where the Top 10 are served their meals."
Irina froze.
She stared at him. Blinked. Processed.
Then, her voice sharpened.
"You're telling me you just walked in there and took all this?"
Astron, still calm, turned off the stove. "I might have sneaked in secretly."
Irina's breath hitched.
Her heart jumped in immediate panic.
'Oh, shit.'
If he sneaked in, then that meant—
Her entire dorm must have already been compromised. The chefs, the assistants, maybe even the damn faculty probably knew by now—
News was going to spread.
She could already hear the whispers.
"Astron was in her dorm?"
"How long has he been there?"
"Are they—"
Irina tensed, fully ready to start damage control, until—
Wait.
Wait, wait, wait.
She paused, narrowed her eyes at him. "…Secretly?"
Astron nodded. "Yes."
A beat of silence.
Then—
She exhaled, all tension draining from her body.
"Damn it, Astron. Say that first!" She slapped his arm, scowling. "I thought you meant everyone knew you were here!"
Astron gave her a flat look. "If they knew, they would have arrived already."
Irina huffed, crossing her arms. "You could've led with that."
"You assumed incorrectly."
She clicked her tongue, but the relief settled in.
So he hadn't gotten himself caught.
That was good.
Though…
She raised a brow. "Hold on. You just sneaked in? That place is guarded, you know."
Astron plated the last of the eggs. "Yes."
"And you didn't get caught?"
"Clearly."
Irina narrowed her eyes. "You're not supposed to say that like it's normal."
Astron gave a small shrug, setting the plates down. "It was not difficult."
Irina let out a slow breath, rubbing her temple.
Of course it wasn't difficult for him.
This was Astron.
If he wanted to break into a high-security kitchen, he would just do it.
And the worst part?
He probably didn't even consider it illegal—just a minor inconvenience he needed to work around.
Irina dragged a hand down her face. "One day, this is going to bite you in the ass."
Astron sat down, unbothered. "I will deal with it when that happens."
Irina clicked her tongue.
Fine.
Whatever.
She was too hungry to argue anymore.
Chapter 910 - Good Morning (4)
Irina sat down across from Astron, her eyes briefly scanning the table before her.
It was… a sight.
Normally, when she ate alone, she didn't care about presentation. She'd just grab a plate, toss some food onto it, and call it a meal. Most of the time, she'd be watching something—videos, highlights, even just random streams while she mindlessly ate.
But now?
She paused.
The table was neatly set, the food arranged in that effortless, aesthetic way Astron always managed. Nothing extravagant, but clean. Balanced. Like something out of a magazine photo rather than a hastily thrown-together breakfast.
It wasn't intentional—she was sure Astron wasn't even thinking about the way he plated the food—but it still looked perfectly put together.
For a brief second, she hesitated.
This… felt different.
There was no screen in front of her, no background noise filling the space. Just them, the quiet clinking of plates, and the morning light spilling softly through the window.
She shook off the thought and immediately started eating.
Because damn it, she was hungry.
And, as expected, Astron's cooking was insanely good.
The eggs were perfectly seasoned, the toast crispy but not dry, and even the fruit—something she normally didn't care about—was cut to the perfect bite-sized pieces.
She exhaled in pure satisfaction.
"Damn, Astron." She took another bite, shaking her head. "Really good."
Astron, still composed as ever, simply nodded. "I'm glad you like it."
Irina huffed, taking another bite as they settled into their meal.
For a while, there was only the quiet clinking of utensils and the occasional sip of tea. It wasn't uncomfortable, though—it was easy, the kind of silence that didn't feel like a void, just something that naturally existed between them.
Then, as she casually speared a piece of fruit with her fork, she broke the silence.
"So, about today."
Astron glanced up, waiting for her to continue.
Irina chewed thoughtfully, waving her fork in the air. "I picked yesterday night for a reason. No taxing lectures today, nothing that really needs my full focus. That's why I didn't want to go in the first place."
Astron took a sip of his tea, setting it down before responding. "I see."
For a moment, she thought he might let it go.
But of course, he didn't.
"Even if skipping one lecture would not affect your overall grades," he said smoothly, "it is an act of discipline. Once you let it go—"
Irina clicked her tongue, cutting him off. "Tch. You skipped your training today. Does that mean you're going to start skipping again?"
Astron didn't flinch. "No. I took a rest day."
Irina raised an eyebrow, amused. "Oh? But we both know you don't need rest days."
Astron, as composed as ever, replied, "I judged that I did."
Irina leaned forward slightly, smirking. "Can't I do the same?"
"No."
Her smirk vanished. "Excuse me?"
Astron looked at her with that calm, unreadable expression, but there was something almost obvious in his gaze.
Irina narrowed her eyes. "Wait. Wait, wait, wait. Is this because I'm not you?"
Astron didn't answer.
He didn't need to.
Because his look said it all.
Irina scoffed, offended. "Oh, I see. I see how it is. You think I can't handle my own responsibilities, huh?"
Astron remained silent.
Irina pointed her fork at him. "I'll have you know I'm a very responsible person. I handle my own things just fine, thank you very much."
Astron tilted his head slightly. "You tend to get lazier than nearly everyone sometimes."
Irina's jaw dropped.
"What?"
Astron took another bite of his food, completely unbothered.
Irina slammed her fork down. "Name one time—"
"Your room."
Irina froze.
Astron continued, voice as smooth as ever.
"Your notes are half-written, your laundry piles up, and your study sessions usually end with you watching unrelated videos."
Irina clenched her jaw.
He was not wrong.
But still—
"That's—! I mean, sometimes I need a break, Astron!"
"'Sometimes' has an inconsistent definition with you."
Irina glared. "You—you just memorize everything at once, you don't even need to study!"
"That is unrelated."
"No, it's very related!"
Astron exhaled slightly, as if she was proving his point.
Irina gritted her teeth, narrowing her eyes at him. "So what, are you my discipline officer now?"
Astron calmly took another sip of tea. "If you need one, I can be."
Irina kicked his shin under the table.
Despite her dramatic reaction, Irina secretly enjoyed this.
The playful bickering, the way Astron called out her bad habits so effortlessly—it wasn't annoying in the way it should have been. It was comfortable.
She wasn't sure when they had gotten to this point, where arguing over discipline and responsibilities felt more like a casual morning routine rather than an actual fight.
And just like that, they finished their meal in silence, the occasional clinking of plates the only sound between them.
Once the last bite was gone, Irina stretched her arms over her head before blinking in confusion.
Astron was already standing, fully dressed in his uniform.
"What—?" She stared. "How did you change that fast?"
Astron finished adjusting his cuffs, barely reacting. "I changed my clothes."
"No, I saw that! But when? I looked away for a second, and suddenly you're done? What the hell?"
Astron simply shrugged.
Irina squinted at him. "You're not human."
Astron gave her an unimpressed look. "That is an exaggeration."
She huffed, but then an idea struck her.
A brilliant idea.
She smirked, sitting back in her chair and casually flicking her hair over her shoulder.
"Hey, come here."
Astron raised an eyebrow slightly. "Why?"
Irina grinned. "Do my hair."
There was a pause.
Astron's mouth twitched slightly, as if he refused to believe what he had just heard.
"…You are now treating me like a house servant."
Irina snickered. "Oh, come on, InfernoKnight."
Astron exhaled sharply, rubbing his temple. "I will do this only this time. Once we leave, it will not be like this."
Irina leaned back, smug. "Hmph. We'll see about that."
Astron sighed, walking over.
And just like that, he combed her hair.
Irina expected him to be awkward, maybe rough, maybe unsure—
But no.
He was weirdly good at this.
His fingers moved through her hair with ease, gathering strands, brushing them into place with an almost practiced smoothness. His motions were methodical, gentle but firm—like someone who had done this before.
Irina raised an eyebrow.
She squinted at him through the mirror.
"Alright, spill. When did you get this good?"
Astron didn't react.
She narrowed her eyes further. "Who else's hair did you comb?"
She meant it as a tease, something lighthearted, maybe even to see if he had been doing this for another girl—
But—
Astron's hands paused for half a second.
His eyes dimmed slightly.
"Someone that is no longer here."
Irina froze.
And immediately—
She remembered.
Estelle.
His sister.
Irina immediately sensed it.
That slight pause. That barely-there tension in his shoulders.
She had touched a sensitive topic again.
And she hated it.
Not because she didn't want to know.
But because she knew Astron wouldn't talk about it.
He wasn't the type to open up—not unless it was forced out of him, and even then, it wouldn't be genuine. And the last thing she wanted was for him to retreat back into himself over something she had said.
So—
She did what she always did when things got too heavy.
She changed the mood.
Immediately.
She smirked, leaning back slightly. "Hmph. You must have been a lady killer then."
Astron blinked, the faintest hint of confusion flickering through his eyes.
"What?"
Irina flicked her fingers, playing up the smug act. "Oh, you know. You were clearly good at this, meaning you must've had practice. Meaning you probably made a lot of girls fall for you back then."
Astron simply exhaled, returning to brushing her hair like she hadn't just thrown that ridiculous statement at him. "You know how I was before."
Irina rolled her eyes dramatically. "I know how you were at the academy. Who knows what you were like before you came here?"
Astron, without missing a beat, said flatly, "I just trained."
Irina snorted. "Yeah, yeah. That's what they all say."
Astron didn't even dignify that with a response.
Instead, he finished with her hair, stepping back like nothing had happened.
Irina smirked, shaking her head before standing up and stretching.
"Alright, I'm done here."
She turned on her heel and left the room, not waiting for a reply.
Just like that, they left the dorms.
Irina adjusted the strap of her bag, walking beside Astron as they stepped out into the academy halls. The crisp morning air greeted them, the usual quiet hum of early activity filling the space as students moved about.
Everything seemed normal.
Until—
"Heh?"
A voice.
Irina halted mid-step, her eyes flicking up—
And right in front of them stood a girl with silver hair, her sharp, icy blue eyes locked directly onto them.