Professor Horshwin's gray, springing hair, which had previously been arranged like a bird's nest, was blown by the heat into two spikes of knotted columns behind him. His eyes had widened into ecstatic, unhinged circles, and his smirk seemed wide enough to jump off his face. "Good! Good, wonderful!"
Aileen frowned from the pervading warmth, and with a wave of her hand, the temperature plummeted back. She grew a small ice sphere from the palm of her hand and used it to caress her heated face. Aileen had not only inherited her mother's affinity with ice, but also her absolute abhorrence towards heat.
The professor gestured for Remis to retreat. Remis nodded awkwardly, seeing Cyrus' twisted expression and Theodore's strained lips. He instinctively realized that standing next to Sylvien would only cause more trouble, and simply decided to retreat behind the professor, standing alone on the other side of the capture targets.
Theodore's eyes remained fixed on Remis' figure standing stiffly in position. His expression was frozen, his mind in a daze. It looked like Remis' body was still glowing, pulsing from the mana that wanted to jump out of his body. The black-haired youth's expression was still vibrant. Even after he had finished the spell and withdrew, his eyes were wide and glossy, the corners of his mouth curved into a pure smile, his skin slightly flushed from the heat. Theodore gulped dryly. He felt his heart grow quicker the longer he stared. If only he looked at me that way... the same way he looks at magic... he thought, a growing string of yearning tugging at his heart. If only I could be the one...
"Sylvien. You're next." The professor declared, his projecting voice pulling Theodore out of his thoughts. The prince nodded, slowly approaching the shooting area. The area was singed black, a smoking hole pierced through the center of the target.
Nore, who noticed Sylvien's change in mana flow, hurriedly dropped from the sky like a detonating bomb. The bird seemed intensely familiar with the situation. Half a second later, he was chirping on Remis' shoulder with a relieved, somewhat contented expression.
Soon, a small shield of roaring wind encased Sylvien, brushing his long, silver hair up into tendrils of tumbling tresses. Unlike Remis, who had extreme precision until the very last moment where he released a gushing flame, Sylvien's approach was wild and unfettered, his element flying free before the attack without any sort of regulation.
Through the rushes and roars of the unbridled gales enveloping Sylvien's figure, his familiar wispy, ethereal appearance remained. He caressed the wind through his extended hand, feeling the weightless existence. Then, after a few seconds of raucous silence, Sylvien parted his lips, his mouth moving imperceptibly as he muttered words in a foregone language. A wave of mana pulsed out of Sylvien's body, an ever-expanding sphere. Air rushed into a singular point then accelerated towards the target, straight through its center. The bullet of wind was intangible yet left a pierced wall in its wake.
The professor cackled, seeing the ridiculous spectacle of Remis' singed floors, Aileen's balls of snowmen, and Sylvien's somewhat impaired wall.
"This is wonderful, wonderful! What a brilliant class this year!" He lifted his arm, enjoying the feeling of his untamed gray hair. He waved Sylvien away before going through another bout of demented giggling. Sylvien narrowed his eyes slightly before ambling to Remis' side, naturally slipping his fingers through the other's in a tight grasp.
Remis, who could no longer be fazed by such actions, simply let his arm dangle as his hand was held by Sylvien's, passively accepting the warmth transmitted through the other's palm. He wasn't sure if he was relieved or fucked by asking Nyiel's prince to be his partner. Sylvien was his long-distance confidant who he had told many things, though he had never seen him before. In recent years, Sylvien had blatantly stated he wanted to meet Remis, yet he thought he could dispel those thoughts by simply stamping it out through words. Obviously, he was wrong. Now, it was a matter of if he believed that Sylvien was more "trustworthy" than the capture targets who were just as bad in terms of physical intimacy.
The basic attack spell exercise continued until everyone had successfully made a devastating burnt, soaked, and frozen mess in their wake. The professor was sufficiently pleased.
"Now, find your partners." Horshwin said, his voice resounding across the courtyard. Lucius retreated from the firing position and, almost instinctively, his eyes drifted to Remis' figure as he walked past. Then, his eyes fixed on the entwined hands subtly hidden behind Remis' body. That same inexplicable feeling swirled in his heart. He had to peel his gaze off of the sight as he tried to rub off that grating feeling in his heart.
Unbeknownst to them, the professor's intrigued eyes flashed with amusement. In a split second, he changed his plan. Restraining his laughter, he said, "Alright, we'll be doing stretches first. Take turns and assist your partner."
Aileen, who was unprepared for the situation, wasn't able to stop a bark of laughter from escaping her throat. She coughed and flashed a collected smile. Her mind spun as she watched the prince freeze for a split second, Cyrus sending a hateful glare to Sylvien, and Theodore's fist slowly clenching until his knuckles turned white.
Sylvien smiled gracefully, his royal upbringing shining through his nonchalant demeanor as he faced Remis. "What would you like to start with, dear?" He uttered fondly, his eyes bending into slight crescents. Remis' face involuntarily flushed red. He still hadn't gotten used to Sylvien's beauty like he did with the other capture targets. He turned away, hurriedly concealing his reddened cheeks. Jesus Christ, man... I hate ikemen...
Before Remis could compose himself, Sylvien had already taken advantage of his silence and moved to the floor, gesturing for Remis to stand behind him. "Here, place your hands on my back," Sylvien instructed, taking Remis' wrists and guiding them to rest on his ironed shirt. Remis coughed, concealing his embarrassment, and began pressing Sylvien's back down. Thin locks of hair slid down Sylvien's back, occasionally brushing against the back of Remis' hand. Remis felt the firm yet pliable muscles lining Sylvien's spine, his face turning a deeper shade of red with every exertion.
After a minute of Remi's embarrassment and the silver-haired prince's radiating contentment, Sylvien slowly drew back, the muscles on his upper back flexing. Remis blinked before hastily retracting his hands, shaking off the lingering sensation. Sylvien's back soon pressed against Remis' chest, and the silver-haired youth took advantage of the rare stance, shamelessly leaning back further and resting his head on the black-haired youth's stomach.
Rubbing the crown of his hair against Remis' abdomen, Sylvien peered up from his lap, gazing softly at Remis' disgruntled expression with an unconcerned demeanor. "What an adorable view. I should come here more often," Sylvien teased, a mischievous tone in his voice. Remis coughed, his eyes darting around the room as he shuffled back, quickly regaining his composure.
"W-well, it's my turn now," Remis stammered, turning away. However, Sylvien seemed not the least bit displeased, instead completely obliging, his wickedly bent eyes incomprehensibly fulfilled.
"Well, then sit in front of me. I'll help you too," Sylvien chuckled.
Remis froze before he let out a stray curse in his mind. It turns out that I did fuck myself over, after all.