Chapter 867 - 866- The Time He lacked

Chapter 867: Chapter 866- The Time He lacked

He blinked. The question, which was unexpected, was a redirect. His body, which had been moving toward the door, halted. His mind, which had been focused on Yuki, stuttered.

"What?" he said. "I... I do not have time. I need to..."

Seraphina sighed. The sound, which was theatrical and disappointed, was a hook. "Do I have to ask the professor? Just like Yuki?"

The name, which was a bait, was a trigger. Aldric’s eyes, which had been on the door, snapped to Seraphina. The mention of Yuki, in the context of the professor, was a poke at the wound that was still open.

"You do not need to," he said. The words, which came out fast and tight, were the words of a man whose pride had been pricked. "I can help. Damn it. Sit down."

Seraphina sat. The motion, which was smooth and deliberate, was a performance. She opened her notebook. The page, which was blank, was a prop. She looked at him with the expression of a woman who needed help.

"Thank you," she said. The words, which were warm and grateful, were a reward. The kind of reward that a man who was feeling inadequate desperately needed.

She started to ask questions. The questions, which were about the lecture, were genuine. Or at least, they sounded genuine. The topics, which were the rune inversion and the dimensional locking, were the topics that had been covered.

Aldric answered. The answers, which were not as polished as the professor’s, were competent. He was not a genius. But he was not stupid. The knowledge, which he had absorbed during the lecture, was enough to explain the basics.

The classroom emptied. The students, who had been packing, left. The door, which had been open, was closed. The room, which had been full, was empty. Except for two.

Aldric, who was explaining, did not notice. His mind, which was engaged in the task of teaching, was distracted from the jealousy that had been consuming him. The act of helping, of being needed, of being the one with the answers, was a balm.

Seraphina, who was listening, was not interested in the answers. Her eyes, which had been on the notebook, drifted. To Aldric. To his hands, which were holding the pen. To his face, which was focused. To his body, which was lean and tense.

She untied her bow. The motion, which was slow and casual, was the first step. The ribbon, which came loose, was set on the desk. Her collar, which had been fastened, was open. The upper curve of her cleavage, which was pale and full, was visible.

She removed her upper dress. The motion, which was smooth and practiced, was a performance. The fabric, which had been covering her shoulders, was pulled down. The blouse, which was thin, was bunched at her waist. Her breasts, which were heavy and full, were straining against the bra. The cups, which were lacy and white, were barely containing the flesh.

She bit her lip. The gesture, which was unconscious, was a thought.

’It is for the professor. For his plan. I am doing this for him.’

The thought, which was a justification, was a comfort. The body, which was being used as a tool, was a sacrifice. The man, who had commanded her, was her master.

She pulled her panty down. The motion, which was subtle and slow, was a preparation. The fabric, which had been covering her, slid down. The cotton, which was white and flowered, was at her ankles. She stepped out. The panty, which was in her hand, was hidden.

She stood. The skirt, which was still on, was covering her lower body. The panty, which was removed, was a secret. The bareness, which was beneath the fabric, was a thrill.

She moved. To Aldric. Who was still talking, still explaining, still focused on the notebook. Her hand, which arrived on his shoulder, was a touch. The contact, which was light and casual, was a massage. Her fingers, which found the tension in his muscles, worked.

Aldric, who was thinking about a hard question she had asked, did not notice. The question, which was about the relationship between mana coherence and rune stability, was complex. His mind, which was engaged, was distracted.

The massage, which was gentle and soothing, was working. His shoulders, which had been tight, relaxed. His breathing, which had been shallow, deepened. The touch, which was warm and soft, was a comfort.

The door opened. The sound, which was quiet, was a creak. Yuki, who had been following me, was returning. Her face, which had been troubled, was composed. She had asked her question. She had received her answer. She was coming back.

She entered. The room, which she expected to be empty, was not. Aldric was there. Seraphina was there. The two of them, alone, in a classroom that should have been empty.

She saw. The scene, which was not what it appeared to be, was a picture. Seraphina, whose hand was on Aldric’s shoulder. Aldric, who was leaning forward, focused on the notebook. The two of them, close and intimate.

Then she saw the panty. The flowered black fabric, which was on the floor, was visible. The cotton, which was bunched, was a crumpled heap. The pattern, which was flowers, was unmistakable.

The understanding, which was wrong but inevitable, hit her like a fist. The panty, which was on the floor, was Seraphina’s. The woman, who was standing behind Aldric, was not wearing any. The two of them, who were alone in a classroom, were...

Her heart, which had been steady, pounded. The sound, which was loud in her ears, was a drum. Her eyes, which had been wide, went wet. The tears, which had been building, fell.

’Why? Why is her panty on the floor? Why is she standing behind him? Why is she touching him? Why...’

The thought, which was a spiral, was a trap. The evidence, which was circumstantial, was enough. The conclusion, which was wrong, was inevitable.

She saw more. The way Seraphina’s dress was down. The way her cleavage was visible. The way her hand was on his shoulder. The way the two of them were positioned. It looked like they had been having sex. Like they had been interrupted. Like they had just finished and were recovering.

The flowered black panty. Not the boring white cotton that she always wore. The kind that Aldric always told her about. The kind that he said was sexy. The kind that he wished she would wear. The kind that she never did because she thought it was silly.

’He always told me my white panties were boring. Childish. He said I should wear something sexier. Something like... like that. Like what she is wearing. Or not wearing.’

The comparison, which was a knife, cut deep. The insecurity, which had been buried, surfaced. The woman, who was the president, who was beautiful and confident and experienced, was everything that Yuki was not.

Seraphina noticed her. The eyes, which had been on Aldric, shifted. To the door. To Yuki. The recognition, which was instant, was a signal.

She moved. The motion, which was sudden and theatrical, was a stumble. Her body, which had been standing, went sideways. Her foot, which caught on nothing, tripped. The fall, which was a performance, was a show.

"What..."