Chapter Text
Gym class was always a spectacle at the school. While most students trudged through the usual routine of running laps and lifting weights, there was something about the gymnastics obstacle course that made things a little more interesting. Ilana and Octus had settled into the bleachers, watching the chaos unfold below. The other students scrambled and stumbled through the course, trying to scale walls, leap over hurdles, and balance on beams.
But then, Lance stepped up. Ilana had seen him before, but this time, as he moved to the starting line, she couldn't help but feel a strange sense of anticipation in the air. Lance wasn’t just going to get through the obstacle course. He was going to own it.
As soon as the signal went off, Lance was in motion. His body seemed to flow through the course like water—fluid, graceful, and effortlessly controlled. He flipped over the bars with the ease of someone who had practiced gymnastics for years. He ran up the wall, then launched himself into the air, twisting mid-jump to clear an obstacle with perfect form. Every movement was precise, and every muscle seemed to work in harmony. His black hair trailed behind him, adding to the fluidity of the spectacle, making him appear almost like a shadow in motion.
Ilana leaned forward, her eyes wide with a mix of awe and confusion. She had seen him move like that before. And yet, she couldn't quite understand why it was so mesmerizing. It wasn’t just the speed or the athleticism. It was the grace. Lance wasn’t just executing the moves. He was performing them with an elegance that made the entire thing seem effortless.
"Octus," she whispered, trying to wrap her head around it. "How is he doing this so easily?"
Octus turned his focus to the display below, his mechanical mind processing the spectacle with its usual efficiency. "Grace," he said, as if the answer were obvious. "It’s another reason humans find Lance so captivating. His natural grace—his ability to move with such fluidity and ease. Humans are drawn to this because it showcases control over the body, an ideal of physical perfection. Lance doesn't just move; he dances through the world."
Ilana raised an eyebrow, slightly bewildered. "Dance?"
"Yes. Humans are instinctively attracted to fluid, controlled movement," Octus explained. "It’s a sign of strength, coordination, and poise. All of which Lance possesses in abundance."
Ilana nodded slowly, understanding now, even if she still wasn’t entirely sure why humans cared so much about his every move. She glanced back down at Lance, who was now nearing the final part of the obstacle course, the bar set just a little higher than the others.
With a final, graceful leap, Lance cleared it effortlessly, landing in a perfect crouch before standing tall and looking around. The entire gym seemed to hold its breath for a moment before erupting into applause.
"He’s… amazing," Ilana muttered.
"Indeed," Octus agreed, his voice almost admiring. "He makes it look easy, but it is the result of innate skill, coordination, and focus."
Before Ilana could respond, however, a few loud voices from the other side of the gym caught her attention. She turned her head just in time to see a group of jocks surrounding a scrawny, nervous kid who looked like he had been shoved into the gym's spotlight against his will. The jocks were taunting him, laughing and making snide comments about how weak he looked. It was clear they were just trying to get a rise out of him.
Ilana’s attention snapped back to Lance, who, without hesitation, was already walking toward the commotion. His expression was neutral, almost disinterested, but there was an unmistakable glint of something else in his eyes—something protective.
The jocks didn’t even notice him approaching until it was too late. Lance’s movements were quick—too quick for the jocks to react. With the same natural grace he displayed in the obstacle course, he slid into the group, using his body weight and momentum to knock two of them off balance. He didn’t even have to speak; his actions were precise and controlled, his body almost dancing through the fight in a way that left the jocks confused and scrambling.
Ilana’s eyes widened. She had always known Lance was capable, but seeing him fight—seeing him protect someone who wasn’t even involved—was a whole other level of impressive.
"Did you see that?" she whispered, turning to Octus. "He barely even broke a sweat."
"Yes," Octus replied, his voice calculating. "That was a demonstration of Lance's innate fighting skills. He has natural talent in martial arts—his physical abilities are honed and instinctive. But more than that, it speaks to his protective nature."
Ilana glanced back at the scrawny kid, who was now standing wide-eyed, staring at Lance in disbelief. The jocks were quickly retreating, muttering under their breath, clearly not prepared for Lance’s response. Lance, meanwhile, seemed to have no interest in anything but making sure the kid was okay. He gave him a slight nod, a quiet acknowledgment that said everything.
"Humans are naturally drawn to protectiveness," Octus continued. "Lance doesn't just fight with skill; he fights with intention. His instincts tell him to protect, to defend. That is another part of his appeal—he is someone who stands up for others without hesitation."
Ilana watched as Lance casually walked back to his spot, ignoring the grateful glances from the kid he had just helped. He didn’t need praise or recognition. He simply did what was necessary, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
"So, let me get this straight," Ilana said slowly, her eyes following Lance as he walked back to the bleachers, "It’s not just about his muscles or his grace, but about how he uses them? To protect others?"
"Correct," Octus said. "Lance’s ability to fight with precision, coupled with his desire to protect those who cannot defend themselves, makes him an even more compelling figure to humans. His confidence in his own abilities, mixed with a deep-rooted desire to help others, enhances his attractiveness in ways that go beyond physical appearance."
Ilana nodded thoughtfully, watching Lance finally sit back down, his demeanor cool and relaxed as if he hadn’t just taken on a group of jocks without breaking a sweat.
As the final bell rang, signaling the end of another school day, the hallways buzzed with the usual noise of students packing up their things and heading out the door. The trio moved through the crowd, Lance leading the way with his usual confident stride. Ilana and Octus trailed behind him, still processing the day’s revelations about Lance’s near-mystical ability to captivate everyone around him.
As they walked toward the exit, a couple of students jogged past them, waving as they went. "Later, Lance!" one of them called out, the other following with a friendly, "See ya, man!"
Lance didn’t respond with his usual cool, aloof silence, as he often did. Instead, he glanced over his shoulder just for a moment, his lips curving slightly upward in a grin that caught both Ilana and Octus off guard.
It was subtle—a small, almost imperceptible grin—but it was there. A genuine expression of warmth, not the calculated charm or distant aloofness he usually carried. He didn’t say anything, but the smile was enough. It was a rare moment of true connection, something that Ilana hadn’t seen before.
The two students froze for a second, looking almost dumbfounded by the unexpected reaction. They stood there, their eyes wide, before quickly continuing down the hallway, exchanging excited whispers and glances, clearly shocked that Lance had actually smiled at them.
Ilana blinked in surprise. She had always thought Lance was untouchable—distant and unaffected by the crowd of adoring students who seemed to flock around him. But that grin had been... different.
Octus, sensing Ilana’s curiosity, spoke softly as they continued walking toward the exit, his voice barely audible over the hum of the departing students. "That," he said, "was the final reason humans find Lance so captivating. His rare but genuine smiles."
Ilana turned to Octus, her brow furrowing in confusion. "But... he barely ever smiles. I mean, I’ve seen him give the occasional grin or smirk, but that was... different. It was like he was actually happy to see them."
"Precisely," Octus replied, his voice thoughtful. "Humans are naturally drawn to expressions of genuine emotion. Lance’s aloofness and distance only add to the appeal because it makes his rare moments of true warmth stand out so much more. His smile is not something he gives lightly, and that makes it all the more powerful when it happens."
Ilana processed this, her mind trying to piece together everything she had observed throughout the day. Lance’s perfect, effortless movements, his unshakable confidence, his protective instincts—it all made sense now. But that smile? It was the final piece, the key to his charm. It wasn’t just that he was physically perfect or that he could fight off a group of jocks with ease. It was that, when he allowed it, he let down his guard just enough to offer something real, something human. And that made him irresistibly magnetic.
As they exited the school building and headed toward their waiting transport, Ilana couldn’t help but glance at Lance once more. He was back to his usual aloof self, his expression cool and unreadable, but now, she knew something more about him. It wasn’t just about what he looked like or how he moved. It was the rare glimpses of warmth he allowed to shine through that made him someone people couldn’t help but be drawn to.
Octus seemed to sense her thoughts. "Humans value authenticity," he said simply. "And Lance's rare smiles are as close to that as he allows himself to be."
Ilana gave a small, thoughtful nod. She wasn’t sure she understood everything about Lance—after all, there was still so much about him that remained a mystery. But in that moment, she couldn’t help but appreciate him just a little more.
And for the first time, she felt that perhaps the allure of Lance was something more than just his looks, his grace, or his fighting skills. It was the complexity behind it all—the combination of strength, mystery, and the rare, genuine moments that kept everyone around him captivated.