Chapter 204: bold words
Jae’s lips curved in the familiar smirk that seemed to belong to him as much as his blade. He rose at last, his Dragonfire Blade sealed away, his hands sliding easily into his pockets.
He crossed the rows at an unhurried pace, his steps deliberate, each one a quiet claim on the silence she thought she still owned.
"You really are too beautiful, you know," he said, his voice low, casual, as though he were stating a fact rather than flirting.
The words struck her in mid-motion. Mrs. Lira stilled, one hand resting lightly on a stack of parchment. Slowly, she turned, the delicate tilt of her head catching more of the light, her pale lashes lowering and then rising again as she processed his words.
Her eyes, normally so composed, widened by the smallest fraction. The faintest color touched her cheeks, a warmth that unsettled her calm.
"Jae..." she said softly, her voice a mix of warning and disbelief. "Class is dismissed. You should be on your way."
"I will," he said, leaning one hand against the edge of her desk, claiming the space as though it belonged to him. "But it feels like a waste to leave without saying what everyone else is too afraid to." His gaze moved deliberately over her, never crude, but unflinchingly direct. "You’re stunning. Every time you stand up there, I have to remind myself we’re supposed to be learning spells, not staring."
The blush deepened, though she tried to mask it with a frown, her lips pressing into a thin line. "That’s highly inappropriate."
"Inappropriate," Jae repeated, tilting his head slightly, the smirk tugging wider at one corner of his mouth. "Or just true?"
Her lips parted as if to respond, but the words caught before they could leave. She closed them again, pressing her mouth into silence. Instead, she set the parchments down and flattened them with a palm, as though the act of tidying could steady her pulse.
Her other hand busied itself with aligning the edges, a distraction from the weight of his presence at her side.
"You shouldn’t talk to your teacher this way," she said at last, her voice quieter now, steadier, though the faint tremor beneath it betrayed her.
"And yet, here I am," he countered smoothly. He didn’t lean back; if anything, his presence edged closer, his voice dipping into something softer, warmer, more deliberate. "You’ve been there for me since I first stepped into this academy. Not just as a teacher. You believed in me when others didn’t. You encouraged me when I struggled. It’s only natural I’d admire you."
Her heart gave a traitorous flutter at that, a shift she hated herself for. She glanced away quickly, searching for some task to anchor herself to. The quill beside her inkwell became her excuse, her fingers brushing over it as though its position suddenly mattered.
"Admiration is one thing," she said, keeping her voice as level as she could manage. "But you’re reckless with your tongue, Jae. Words like that..."
"Are dangerous?" His interruption was soft but precise. He leaned forward a fraction, closing the distance, his tone dropping low enough that it felt meant only for her. "Maybe. But danger doesn’t scare me."
Her breath caught, chest tightening against her will. She turned her head sharply, intending to meet his gaze with authority, intending to remind him of boundaries, of lines that could not be crossed.
But the look in his eyes undid her preparation. Those crimson irises did not burn with mischief alone, they carried weight, intensity, confidence. The same look she had seen when he stood against death itself, when flames and shadows clashed around him and he did not yield.
The silence stretched between them, fragile yet heavy, as though the entire classroom held its breath. Dust motes drifted lazily in the slanted beams of dying sunlight, the air tinged with parchment, chalk, and the faint trace of magic that always lingered after long lessons.
Jae didn’t look away. He let the moment expand, savoring the way her composure wavered.
Then, with a grin that tilted somewhere between teasing and daring, he broke it.
"So... no hug for your star pupil?"
The words cut through the quiet like a pebble tossed into still water, rippling across her carefully constructed calm.
Mrs. Lira blinked. For once, she had no ready response, no neatly prepared admonishment to set him back in place. The sheer boldness of the request left her momentarily speechless.
"A hug?" she echoed, and even to her own ears, her voice sounded thinner than intended.
"Just a hug," Jae replied easily. He spread his arms in a half-mocking gesture of invitation, the motion exaggerated enough to be playful yet still disarming. "Think of it as a reward. Don’t teachers like giving rewards for good work?"
Her rational mind, sharp as any blade, screamed at her to refuse. He was her student. She was his teacher. The line between them was one of the few absolutes she still clung to. Crossing it would be reckless, dangerous, foolish.
And yet...
The earnest gleam in his eyes, the effortless charm in his smile, the warmth that stirred unexpectedly in her chest, it all tangled with her resolve, pulling it loose thread by thread.
She hesitated, her teeth catching briefly on her lower lip, a gesture she quickly corrected but not before he noticed. "Jae, this isn’t..."
"Then I’ll just take it as a yes," he cut in smoothly, not giving her the space to finish.
Before she could summon another protest, Jae closed the distance. His arms slipped around her with a confidence that felt both outrageous and disarming.
He didn’t hold her too tightly, but firmly enough that she could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against her chest.
His scent was there too, faintly smoky, warm, with a trace of something sharper beneath, like steel left near a fire. A reminder of what he carried within him, the Dragonfire that defined him.