I opened my mouth, ready to tell Annalise what I needed from her—

—but the door to the infirmary creaked open before I could say another word.

Black hair, perfectly brushed yet untamed in its flow, swayed as she stepped in. The faint shimmer of gold on her black uniform caught the sterile white light. That same black blindfold covered her eyes, yet somehow, I knew she was staring straight at me.

Belle Ardent.

I sighed, the corners of my lips twitching up in mild exasperation. "…Meet me later," I muttered to Annalise, keeping my tone low.

She gave a small nod, instantly understanding, and slipped out past Belle with a polite bow.

The door clicked shut, leaving just the two of us in the quiet room.

I turned to Belle and let a big, warm smile spread across my face, the kind that said I'm fine, see? You can stop worrying now.

"Hey, Bel—"

I didn't even finish the sentence before something slammed into my chest like a thunderbolt.

Air rushed out of my lungs as the world tilted. For a moment, I just blinked, dazed, looking down at the blur of black hair pressed against me, realizing…

Belle had punched me.

Or maybe it was a hug.

Or both.

I blinked, still half-dazed from the hit. "Ow—what the hell was that for?" I started, my tone automatically slipping into that usual mix of arrogance and playful mockery. "If this is how you greet your favorite student, I'm filing for emotional dama—"

Before I could finish, something soft collided with me again, gentler this time, but far heavier in feeling.

Belle wrapped her arms around me, burying her face in my chest. The air between us shifted, her scent faintly familiar, ink, hyacinth and something distinctly her.

For a heartbeat, I froze. Belle Ardent, the stoic SS-rank who could silence a battlefield with a glance, was trembling.

Her voice broke when she finally spoke. "Even though I knew… that something like this wouldn't kill you… you just wouldn't wake up." Her fingers tightened against my back. "No matter what I did, I couldn't heal you. I couldn't do anything. I—"

The words caught in her throat.

I felt her shudder, just once, like she was angry at herself for even showing weakness.

For a long moment, I said nothing. Then, quietly, I smiled the kind of smile I rarely gave anyone.

My arms closed around her, pulling her closer until her head rested against my shoulder. One hand came up to her back, slow, steady. The other brushed through her dark hair, fingers weaving gently through the strands as I patted her softly.

"It's fine," I murmured, my voice low and calm. "I'm here, Belle."

Her breathing steadied, but she didn't move.

So I just held her there, the crying professor and the arrogant bastard she called her student, in a silence that said more than words ever could.

---

After several long minutes of silence, the kind that stretched just long enough for the air itself to feel heavy, Belle finally moved.

She pushed against my chest with both hands, putting enough force behind it that I actually rocked back against the headboard.

"Stop treating me like a child!" she burst out, cheeks flushed pink. "Or a cat! I'm neither!"

Her little pout made her look anything but intimidating. Her bottom lip jutted out, the corners of her mouth twitching as if she herself wasn't sure whether to scold me or sulk.

I blinked once. Twice.

My brain, the one that was supposed to be sharp, efficient, and full of wisdom?

Completely empty.

Gone.

Evaporated.

All I could think was why does her face look like that?

It was red. Like not just "embarrassed" red, but "freshly-picked-garden-tomato" red.

Tomato Belle, my thoughts whispered helpfully.

And for some reason, that wasn't where it stopped.

Because when she said "I'm not a cat," my imagination decided to betray me completely.

In my mind's eye, I saw it, Belle, same pouty face, same blushing cheeks… but now with a pair of fluffy black cat ears twitching on her head. Her hair swayed behind her like a tail.

"Meow," the hallucination said softly.

I blinked again, this time more rapidly. My brain officially short-circuited.

And before I knew it, I was actually drooling.

"Sebastian?" Belle tilted her head, her blindfolded gaze somehow feeling like it was drilling into me. "Why are you… smiling like that?"

I wiped my mouth quickly and straightened, pretending nothing happened. "Hmm? Nothing. Just thinking about—"

"Thinking about what?"

"…Philosophy."

She frowned. "You don't even like philosophy."

"That's a lie," I said immediately. "I love philosophy. It's deep. Very deep. Like… oceans."

Belle's pout returned full force. "You're not making any sense."

I groaned internally. Then, without warning, I slapped my own cheek with a loud SMACK!

Belle jumped. "What are you doing!?"

"Purifying my mind," I said solemnly, shaking my head like a monk shaking off temptation.

"Freeing myself… of the demons."

Belle just stared. Then, slowly, her expression softened into that dangerous blend of amusement and disbelief. "You're an idiot," she muttered under her breath.

I crossed my arms proudly. "A disciplined idiot."

She sighed, rubbing her temples. "I can't believe you actually hit yourself just now."

"I can't believe you turned into a cat in my head just now," I muttered back before realizing I'd said it out loud.

"…What?"

I coughed violently, waving my hands. "Nothing! Just, uh—hallucination from blood loss! Happens all the time!"

Belle just stood there, lips twitching, clearly fighting a smile.

Finally, she exhaled through her nose, muttering, "You really haven't changed."

"Of course not," I said with a grin. "Perfection doesn't need to."

That earned me a soft thump to the forehead.

"Ow."

"Serves you right," she said, turning away to hide her small smile.

I leaned back against the bed, a smirk tugging at my lips.

Even if she wouldn't admit it, I knew she was glad I was alive.

And honestly… seeing her flustered like that?

Totally worth getting punched.

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