I Killed The Main Characters

༺ Noah's POV ༻

"I see you haven't lost your dramatic flair."

I said, brushing her arms off lightly.

She withdrew, but not without letting her fingers trail across my shoulders in an almost playful manner.

"I'm so glad to see you, Noah."

She replied, ignoring my tone entirely.

Her smile was coy, her lips curving just slightly as if she knew something I didn't.

To anyone else, she might seem harmless, even endearing.

But I knew better.

She stood out as the only person who tolerated Noah's venomous personality, even reveling in it.

She didn't care how despicable I acted.

And why? Because of a prophecy.

From what I recalled, the prophecy was vague, cryptic even, but Iris had latched onto it with a fervor that bordered on religious devotion.

It wasn't just love.

It was obsession.

"You really did come to Ravenwood," I said, narrowing my eyes.

"Of course I did...

I've been dying to see you."

Her words were light, playful, but her gaze carried an intensity that could burn.

I leaned back in my chair, studying her.

To add on Iris was also the strongest student in Ravenwood.

A first-year, yes, but her entrance exam shattered records, cementing her as the most promising mage in decades.

Many chalked it up to her age, but that wasn't the case.

Iris wasn't merely older.

She was gifted.

A sixth-circle mage at 18, a feat most professors could only dream of.

It wasn't just talent—it was terrifying.

And, for better or worse, she was fixated on me.

"Don't you have better things to do than cling to me?"

I said, injecting just enough derision into my tone to maintain my usual facade.

Iris smirked, unfazed.

"I do have other things to do.

But none of them are as important as you."

I scoffed, though inwardly, her words unsettled me.

According to my fragmented memories, Iris had always been this way.

She was one of the few people who understood Noah.

She never flinched at his barbed words or cruel games.

She simply accepted him as he was, never asking for anything in return.

And yet, her devotion wasn't entirely selfless.

Iris was possessive.

She didn't just tolerate my arrogance—she embraced it.

If anyone dared to lay a finger on her beloved Noah, she would crush them without hesitation.

"How's the engagement going, my pretty boy?"

She asked, her voice teasing but laced with a hint of curiosity.

I looked at her, but didn't respond immediately.

I didn't want to.

The words caught in my throat as I thought about it.

Maya.

The engagement that was supposed to be a political chess move, yet it felt like more of a shackle than a partnership.

But Iris… Iris would see through me if I said anything.

She always did.

I kept silent, not trusting myself to say what was really on my mind.

She could probably tell anyway.

Iris tilted her head, her lips curling into a knowing smile as if she had already figured it out.

"It's not working out, is it?"

I could've snapped back with something sharp, something cutting, but I didn't.

I knew it wouldn't help.

Instead, I clenched my jaw, focusing on my hands resting on the table.

She continued, as if reading my mind.

"Is she giving you a hard time?"

I still didn't respond.

I didn't know what to say.

Maya wasn't the problem.

I was.

But I wasn't about to admit that out loud.

Iris, ever persistent, leaned closer, her eyes searching mine.

"You're not answering.

Is it because you don't care, or because you can't tell me the truth?"

I could feel the weight of her gaze pressing down on me.

She was clever.

Too clever.

It was hard to hide anything from her.

But I'd learned to become an expert at deflecting.

"The engagement.."

I finally said, forcing the words out.

"...is nothing more than a political arrangement.

You know how these things go."

I didn't look at her as I spoke, staring off at the distant horizon, my voice flat.

Iris' smile didn't waver, though I could see a glimmer of something else in her eyes now.

"Ah, so it's not her that's the problem, is it?"

I exhaled sharply, the words I didn't want to say bubbling up in my chest, but I kept them buried.

"Love's never interested me."

I said, my voice low and detached, hoping that would end the conversation.

But Iris only smirked, her gaze softening just a little as she took a step closer.

"Even so, Noah..."

She murmured, her voice almost a whisper now.

"...you're meant to be mine."

I felt the words echo in my chest, stirring something that had long been dormant.

But I didn't react, didn't give her the satisfaction of a response.

"Are you planning to hover around me all day?"

I asked, lifting my glass of wine and taking a sip, the bitter liquid grounding me.

"Only if you want me to."

She tilted her head, her expression sweet yet teasing.

Iris was an enigma.

While most of the novel's characters resented or feared Noah, she had always stood by him—even during his descent into villainy.

She was there at the end, a constant, unwavering presence.

"I'm impressed."

She said suddenly, breaking my train of thought.

"You're still as insufferable as ever."

"I aim to please."

I replied dryly.

Her laugh was soft, melodic.

"You know, you're lucky I like you.

Most people would've abandoned you by now."

"Is that so?"

"Mm-hmm."

She leaned closer, her crimson eyes locking onto mine.

"But I'm not most people."

No, she wasn't.

She was Iris Von Star, the only person who could match my arrogance and not flinch.

As much as I hated to admit it, her presence was oddly comforting.

While everyone else despised me, Iris remained a constant, a tether to the chaotic world I now found myself in.

"Well..."

She said, straightening up.

"I should let you get back to your brooding."

"Good idea."

I said, waving her off.

But instead of leaving, she stepped closer, leaning down to press a light kiss on my forehead.

"See you around, Noah."

She said, her voice soft yet teasing.

"And if you ever get lonely, feel free to invite me to your dorm. Anytime."

She bit her index fingernail, a flirtatious gesture that only added to her mystique, before finally walking away.

I watched her retreating figure, my glass of wine forgotten in my hand.

My face felt warm, though I quickly blamed the alcohol.

She was dangerous.

Not just because of her power or her obsession, but because she saw through me.

She understood me in a way no one else did, and that was terrifying.

I sipped my wine, feeling a faint heat creep across my face.

Reddening? Maybe.

I brushed it off as the wine's doing—I'd had too much.

But even as the liquid slid down my throat, a nagging thought lingered.

The relationships the original Noah had with the people in this world were... complicated.

Fractured and tangled in ways that made it hard to tell ally from foe.

I had his memories, sure, but they were incomplete.

As if someone had taken a knife and cut out the most important moments.

Key events, pivotal turning points—they were just missing.

That left me at a disadvantage.

I needed to piece together the puzzle of these relationships, understand the dynamics and the tensions, no matter how messy or uncomfortable they were.

It wasn't out of sentiment or some desire to fix the damage the original Noah had done.

It was survival.

If I was going to keep this facade intact, I needed to act exactly like the Noah they knew.

The arrogant noble, the detested bastard, the man no one trusted.

Anything less would draw suspicion.

And suspicion was a luxury I couldn't afford.