Chapter 311: Chapter 311: Morning Regrets

Elena woke with her head pounding, the dull ache of too much wine pressing behind her eyes. She groaned softly, turning her face toward the faint glow of the mana lamp on the wall.

’The party… the drinking… Elyra kept pouring more…’

She shifted under the blanket, only to realize the bed felt warmer than it should. Blinking through the haze, she turned her head—and her heart nearly stopped.

Noel was lying right beside her.

His breathing was calm, steady, his chest rising and falling in an easy rhythm. The blanket covered only part of him, leaving his upper body bare. The soft light traced the lines of his shoulders, his chest, and the faint scars etched across his skin.

Elena’s face turned crimson in an instant. She clutched the sheets up to her chin, her eyes wide. ’W-wait… no… don’t tell me… we…?!’

Her memory was a blur—Charlotte collapsing on the table, Elyra laughing with her glass raised, herself leaning too close to Noel… and then nothing. Not a single clear moment after that.

’I don’t remember… I don’t remember anything! Did something actually happen? He’s right here, without a shirt, and—oh no, oh no, oh no…’

She buried her face in her hands, heat burning all the way to her ears. ’Calm down, Elena! Maybe… maybe it’s not what it looks like. But then… why is he here? Why is he… like that?’

Beside her, Noel shifted slightly, letting out a low groan. His arm moved against the sheets as he turned onto his back, still half-asleep, unaware of her spiraling panic.

Elena’s breath caught in her throat. She stared at him, frozen, heart hammering in her chest.

’Please… let it not be what I think… I don’t even remember it!’

Noel’s eyes blinked open, still heavy with sleep. He turned his head slightly and found Elena staring at him, frozen like a deer caught in torchlight.

“…What’s wrong?” he asked, voice hoarse from just waking.

Elena’s face went scarlet. “Wh-what’s wrong?! You’re—” She pointed at his bare chest, then yanked the blanket up to her chin again. “Why are you like that next to me?!”

Noel sat up a little, rubbing his temple. “Relax. Nothing happened.”

Elena blinked, still flustered. “…N-nothing?”

He sighed. “You passed out after too much wine. I carried you here. My shirt got stained, so I took it off. That’s all.”

Her lips parted, the panic slowly draining away. She let out a long breath, shoulders sagging. “Oh… what a relief…”

Noel frowned at her reaction. “Relief?”

Elena’s eyes widened as she realized what she’d said out loud. Her hands shot up to cover her mouth, but her voice slipped between her fingers anyway. “I-I just… I want to remember my first time…! Not wake up with no memory of it!”

Noel nearly choked on air. “Elena!”

She buried her face in the blanket, groaning. “Why did I say that?!” Her muffled voice trembled with both embarrassment and honesty.

Noel dragged a hand down his face, trying not to let his own ears burn. ’This is insane… she’s not even fully sober yet.’

After a long pause, Elena peeked at him through the blanket, cheeks still red but eyes soft. “…So… really nothing happened?”

“No,” Noel said firmly. “Really nothing.”

For a moment, silence hung heavy between them. Then Elena whispered, “Good… then I can still make it special.”

Noel stiffened, utterly speechless.

The dining hall buzzed faintly with the clatter of plates and the low murmur of students too tired—or too hungover—to speak loudly.

Charlotte stumbled in first, hair sticking up in all directions, her face pale as chalk. She collapsed onto the nearest chair, clutching her stomach. “Why… why does the world spin underground too…?”

Garron and Laziel exchanged glances before bursting into laughter. Marcus slid a plate of bread toward her, deadpan. “Eat this. It helps.”

Charlotte groaned, poking at the bread as if it were her mortal enemy.

Then Elyra appeared, elegant as ever, her steps steady, her expression annoyingly smug. She took one look at Charlotte and smirked. “Pathetic.”

Charlotte whimpered, hiding her face in the table. “You didn’t have to say it out loud…”

Noel arrived a moment later with Elena trailing behind him. Elena’s hair was still messy from sleep, her cheeks pink for reasons no one else needed to know. She sat quickly, keeping her eyes on her plate.

Elyra, of course, noticed instantly. She leaned in, resting her chin on her hand, voice dripping with mischief. “So… did you sleep well?”

Elena nearly choked on her water, coughing violently as her face turned crimson.

Before Noel could intervene, Roberto swaggered in, still carrying the confidence of someone who had clearly forgotten the slap from last night. His eyes darted between Elena’s red face and Noel sitting calmly beside her. Slowly, a grin spread across his lips.

“I KNEW IT!” he shouted, pointing dramatically. “Noel, you sly dog!”

Elena covered her face with both hands, nearly sliding under the table. Noel pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering, “Not this again…”

The table erupted with laughter, except for Charlotte, who was too busy nursing her hangover to care.

The tension from moments before melted quickly into light chatter. Elyra leaned back in her chair, swirling the juice in her cup as her eyes wandered down the table. A mischievous glint lit up her face when she spotted her next target.

“So, Clara,” she began smoothly, her voice carrying just enough for everyone to hear, “how far have you and Marcus advanced in your relationship?”

Marcus, mid-bite of bread, nearly choked. Clara’s spoon clattered against her bowl as her cheeks turned bright pink. “W-we’re not—! I mean—we haven’t—!”

Marcus coughed, trying to hide his panic behind his cup. “Elyra, that’s—completely unnecessary to bring up right now.”

“Oh, come on,” Elyra teased, resting her chin on her palm. “You’re both terrible liars. Look at you, can’t even keep eye contact.”

The table snickered. Elena peeked from behind her cup, her own embarrassment briefly forgotten, while Charlotte managed a weak giggle despite her hangover.

Marcus and Clara sat stiffly side by side, exchanging helpless glances, neither brave enough to answer properly.

Roberto groaned loudly, slumping in his chair. “Can you not flex when I’m here? Pretty please?”

That only made Elyra laugh harder, her grin wicked. “Flex? I haven’t even started.”

“Don’t encourage her,” Noel muttered under his breath, already bracing for whatever Elyra would stir up next.

Marcus buried his face in his hand, while Clara fidgeted with her spoon, her blush refusing to fade. The rest of the table, however, found endless amusement in their flustered state.

The long tunnel journey stretched ahead of them, but for now, laughter filled the hall, echoing softly against the stone walls.

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