Noelle was sitting on his bed.
She didn't say anything. She just looked at him.
Zura stood there, the light from the hall spilling over his face. His hands were still bruised. His jaw tight.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, voice quiet.
Noelle looked away. "...I heard what happened."
He shut the door behind him. Tossed his coat over the chair. Walked to the sink and splashed his face.
When he turned back, she was still watching him.
"I didn't do it to be a hero," he said. "I did it because I had to."
"I know," she whispered.
Silence.
The space between them felt heavier than usual. Not awkward. Not tense. Just... charged.
Noelle looked at the bedsheet. "They're saying you went too far."
Zura shrugged. "Let them talk."
Another silence.
"You look tired," she said.
Zura didn't respond.
She stood. Walked over. Slowly. The distance between them disappeared, inch by inch.
And then—she placed her hand on his chest.
Her fingers were cold.
"I'm glad you came back," she said, barely audible. "Safely."
And then, she sat back on the bed.
Zura tilted his head, just a little confused, just a little amused.
"Noelle?"
She was sitting on his bed like she owned it. Back straight, legs crossed, arms folded like a damn queen, and that usual proud pout stuck to her face like it was painted on.
"Tch. Took you long enough," she said without looking at him. "You're late."
"I didn't know I had an appointment," he mumbled and closed the door behind him.
"I'm just here to give the mission report. Charmy and Luck already submitted theirs." She stood and handed him a rolled-up scroll. "That's it."
Zura took it, but her eyes didn't leave his. There was a pause. One of those awkward ones. Then she clicked her tongue and crossed her arms again.
"You've been slacking off, haven't you?"
Zura raised an eyebrow. "Slacking off? Me?" He tossed the scroll to the table and stepped closer. "I can show you how much I've been training… if you want."
"Hmph." Her scoff was loud, sharp. "Show me? You?" Her voice dropped half a note. "How exactly are you planning to do that?"
"Simple." He smirked. "Duel me."
She blinked. Once. Then narrowed her eyes like he'd just insulted her bloodline.
"You think you can beat me?" she asked, genuinely offended. "Not in a million years."
"I don't have to beat you," Zura said. "I just need to make sure I don't lose."
That got her. Her lips curled into that tight smirk of hers—the one that always showed up before she threw water dragons at people.
"You're insane," she muttered. "Fine. The Magic knight tournament is coming up soon, so tet's make it more fun. The loser does whatever the winner says."
Zura's grin stretched wider. "You sure? You might regret it."
Noelle scoffed again and turned toward the door. "Please. I hope you don't get knocked out in the first round of the tournament." She paused at the door. "You are participating, right?"
"I'm not planning to sit on the bench," he said, voice low.
She looked over her shoulder. "Good. Don't disappoint me." Then she was gone.
The room went quiet again.
Zura let out a soft breath and walked over to the bed. He dropped onto it, the mattress bouncing lightly under him. He stared at the ceiling for a while, then sat up, hands clasped between his knees.
A tired smile played on his lips. But it didn't last.
His eyes dimmed.
"…It's been almost a month," he muttered.
He leaned back, pulled one leg up, resting his arm on it.
"A month without fucking anyone." His voice was flat. "I've been surviving every night with just my hand."
He looked at the window. Nothing but moonlight leaking through.
"But now even that's not working." His voice turned dry, bitter. "I want to fuck someone."
He stood up, then stripped off his belt. His pants dropped to his ankles. He didn't even bother taking them off completely. Just dropped back on the bed, hand already moving to his half-hard cock. His eyes fluttered shut.
But nothing.
No pleasure. No thrill. Just his own skin. Just his own hand.
It wasn't enough.
"Shit…"
He sat up again, eyes narrowing, breath slow. Then, like a whisper creeping into his head, the memories rolled in—Vanessa.
That last mission.
The way she looked when she laughed. The way she stood close to him when they were walking through the woods. The curve of her hips when she bent over to pick up her flask.
The way her eyes lingered on him—just a little too long, just a little too soft.
Zura clenched his jaw.
He could still remember the faint scent of wine on her breath. The slight sway in her hips. The warmth of her hand brushing his when they hid behind the ruins.
That night… that silence… that tension.
His cock twitched.
Zura exhaled through his nose, sharp and hungry.
"…Vanessa…"
His hand slid again—slow, firmer now, but he didn't stroke. Not yet.
He imagined her climbing on top of him, her breath hot, her smirk wild and shameless.
Her voice whispering something filthy against his ear.
No rules. No limits.
He licked his lips, eyes still shut.
"…I'm gonna fuck her."
He didn't say it with desperation. He said it like a plan. A goal. A damn mission.
Then he reached for his belt again, stood up, and got dressed.
Tomorrow, he'd make a move.
No more jerking off to dreams.
It was time to turn them real.
Even though Zura had decided that he would make a move on Venessa tomorrow, he couldn't hold back. He got ready and left his room sneakily.
Zura stood in the hallway, the cold floor brushing under his bare feet. The base was quiet—too quiet. The kind of quiet that made every creak of the wood feel loud, every breath feel like a whisper you weren't supposed to hear.
He stopped outside Vanessa's door.
His knuckles hovered.
Then he knocked—soft, short.
No answer.
He knocked again, this time a little firmer. Still nothing.
"Tch…" Zura muttered under his breath. "She might be sleeping. We did just come back from a mission…"
He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. This was a dumb idea anyway. He should've just waited till morning. But the thought of going back to that bed, back to that dead room, alone… again?
Nope.
He turned around.
But just as he took a step, the wooden door behind him creaked open.
A soft voice drifted through the crack.
"…Zura?"
****
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