Clara didn't stare at me for long—probably because we'd attract too much attention.
Clara, with a smile bright and beautiful like a sunflower, walked past like she was gliding on air. Her perfume wafted through the classroom—sweet, strong, and dangerously alluring. Even Gab, who usually stared blankly into space like he was solving the mysteries of the universe, blushed at the scent.
Fiona, of course, didn't like that one bit. With an annoyed expression, she covered Gab's eyes with her palm like a mother shielding her child from adult content. He let out a muffled protest,
Then I made the classic mistake of looking to my side and noticing the empty seat right beside me.
I knew. I just knew what was coming next.
Clara caught my expression and flashed a satisfied smile, clearly pleased with how predictable I was.
Without hesitation, she walked over and sat down right beside me. Fortunately, no one found it suspicious—after all, it was the last available seat. Lyra clapped her hands to get everyone's attention and began the class.
And to my absolute horror, Clara slid her hand under the table and rested it right on my thigh.
My eye twitched, but I didn't say a word. I could already feel the incoming headache.
Then, just to salt the wound, she winked at me—seductively. Seductively! We were in class!
I was torn between panic and apathy. I mean, it's Clara. She does what she wants. And unfortunately, what she wanted was to touch me.
A few minutes later, just as I was calming down and thinking maybe she'd chill out, she suddenly pinched my thigh—hard. A noise almost escaped my throat. Almost.
Clara saw the twitch in my expression and looked like she just discovered a new favorite flavor of ice cream. Her cheeks flushed with excitement, and she leaned in close to whisper, her voice dripping with mischievous pleasure.
"Did you miss your mentor?"
I muttered between shallow breaths as she hardened her pinch. "Please, not now," I begged in a whisper. My voice sounded like someone pleading for mercy in a torture chamber.
Time dragged. Every second felt like a full minute. Clara wasn't just teasing me—she was torturing me. Like a true sadist, she'd poke and prod, then heal me back up with just enough mana to start again.
Was this hell? Probably. Clara's version of perfume was like a pure flower. But inside is was really scary
Finally, the bell rang for lunch break. Everyone rushed out of the room like prisoners being released, including me. Or at least I tried to escapemen
Irish approached with a strange smile and grabbed my arm. Her face, framed by her soft bangs, was undeniably cute. The way she looked up at me with those bright eyes made me forget to ask the one important question I'd been meaning to—how did she even see me that time?
Her body wasn't curvy like Clara's. Irish was just... cute. Cute enough to make me want to pinch her little ears like a plush doll.
She clung to me more tightly than usual. We'd been hanging out more often since I started attending Eden Academy. In fact, she was probably my only friend here.
With a sweet smile, she asked, "Wanna have lunch together? My treat!"
Before I could answer, Clara struck.
"Oh?" Clara suddenly clung to my other arm, her voice sugary sweet. "Since you're my seatmate, can you at least show me around the school?"
I sighed. I knew exactly what she was trying to do.
Her curvy body pressed tightly against mine, and her soft melons—yes, those—wrapped around my arm like marshmallows of doom. It was... uncomfortable. Distractingly uncomfortable.
Irish sure helpless with the Empress if in the fight of who he could be but that because of despairity with strength but now she could now compete that was she thought atleast
She didn't like that one bit.
"Sorry," Fiona snapped, stepping in front of Clara, "but can't you just ask another student? We're going to lunch."
She gave Clara a fierce glare, one so adorable it made me blush. I swear, it was like watching a kitten trying to fight a fox. Honestly, it was kind of cute... and terrifying.
But wait—what if someone saw us like this?
Of course, the gods weren't on my side today.
A girl with heavy makeup and short hair walked past the classroom with a group of equally gossip-hungry friends. They were mid-sentence talking about some blonde woman simping over a guy when they peeked into the classroom—and froze.
Not in shock.
In excitement.
Their jaws dropped like they'd just found juicy drama on the last page of a romance novel.
If word got out... I was doomed.
There I was—me, a background character—sandwiched between two of the most popular girls in the academy.
I groaned and gently pushed the two girls off me. Marching back to my desk, I plopped down and slammed my face into the table.
Clara and Fiona exchanged sighs. They didn't really care what other people thought—but seeing me sulk like that... it made them both want to comfort me.
Clara, however, had more sinister motives. She wasn't comforting me to be nice. No. She was trying to make Irish jealous.
And without warning, she grabbed my head and shoved it right between her... uh... pillows. My face turned crimson.
To make it worse, she held me there, locking me in place like a human body pillow. I couldn't move. Not without looking like I enjoyed it.
Which, of course, is exactly what she wanted.
Across the room, Irish was watching. Her eyes narrowed, her jaw clenched. Then she glanced at her own chest... and sighed.
She gave Clara a glare that was way too cute to be threatening. Like a kitten trying to cast a fireball.
Then, in a burst of bravery, she marched over and tried to pull me away.
She struggled. And it took a while. Long enough that some students had already started coming back to class.
I could hear the footsteps. Gab and Fiona were standing at the door, eyes wide like they'd just walked in on a love triangle scene straight out of a novel.
Even Gab, was shocked.
A background character getting the attention of two popular girls? This had to be a glitch in the system.
The boys in class stared daggers at me. Their glares practically screamed, "Give us your luck!"
Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes.
Dammit. Let's just forget this happened and think about the bright side.
At least Clara could help me break through to Foundation Establishment... right?
As if to make things worse, Clara noticed a damp spot on her uniform from where my head had been.
She smiled.
And then, with a dramatic gasp loud enough for everyone to hear, she said in a voice dripping with fake innocence:
"My, don't brush yourself on me too much."
Her voice was like a helpless maid being scandalously taken advantage of in a trashy drama.
[Clara back TvT]