Chapter 22: Ready, Nellie?
"Ready, Nellie?" Lor asked, his voice low and inviting, his black hair falling over his hazel eyes as he leaned against the doorframe.
His grin was subtle, a mix of charm and calculation, his average build blending into the shadows.
Nellie's cheeks flushed pink, her glasses fogging slightly as she nodded, her braids bobbing like nervous antennae. "I-I... I need help," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper, her gray eyes darting to the floor.
"I'm at the bottom. In everything. Spell-casting, written tests, mana control, combat form. I can't... I can't stay like this." Her fingers tightened around her wand, its chipped wood trembling.
"I heard about Eva and Olivia. How they're... better now. I saw Eva hit the target today, and Olivia's flames were so steady. I'll do... whatever it takes."
Lor's grin widened, his hazel eyes tracing her form—her petite frame, her thick thighs shifting under the tight skirt, the way her ass strained the fabric with every nervous fidget.
She was no Eva or Olivia, with their bold curves and fiery confidence, but her raw desperation was intoxicating.
A blank canvas for his "Guiding Light" to mold.
"Whatever it takes, huh?" he said, stepping closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.