Chapter 8
“What are you thinking about? Aren’t you hungry?”
Hares pushed a plate of sandwiches toward me, looking puzzled.
I shook my head, then started chatting comfortably.
“I am hungry. But at the ball, my dress was so tight that I couldn’t even drink properly.”
“Yeah, why did you even wear something like that today? Honestly, I almost told you to change, but that felt like crossing a line, so I didn’t say anything.”
“…”
I was speechless for a second, my lips parting slightly but no sound coming out.
That was one of Hares’s traits — mostly indifferent, yet strangely attentive when it came to certain things.
He could be incredibly observant about small details, but totally oblivious to everything else — especially when it wasn’t something he cared about.
‘I wore it because I wanted to look pretty for you, idiot!’
But of course, I couldn’t say that. So I just sighed quietly and sat down beside him.
He knew exactly how I liked my sandwiches — toasted golden just before burning, with cheese, egg, and thin slices of apple.
No bacon, no ham. Just one little sausage on the side.
I looked at the sandwich he’d clearly made for me and muttered,
“You act like this is your house. How did you even find all the ingredients after so long?”
“It’s your house. Nothing ever changes here. Greta still runs the kitchen, right? She always puts the ingredients in the same place.”
He said it so casually, taking a big bite. The muscles in his arm flexed smoothly as he moved.
It was… annoyingly sexy. So I quickly looked away.
After his shower, he smelled just like me — the same rose scent. And now, it was just the two of us, in the quiet, humid night while everyone else slept.
‘If it were anyone else, they’d definitely misunderstand what’s going on between us.’
This closeness — so familiar and comfortable — made me happy but also filled me with despair.
My pajamas weren’t revealing, but the fabric clung softly to my body’s curves. From the side, anyone could clearly see my shape.
At least, I thought so.
But judging from how Hares barely glanced my way, he was completely unaffected.
After finishing his sandwich, the only thing he said was utterly mundane.
“Hey, it’s supposed to rain all night. Make sure we close all the windows before bed.”
“Betty already closed all the others. We just need to shut the family room window later.”
“You never change. My house is so noisy — there are kids running everywhere, relatives visiting, people yelling. I swear I’m going crazy.”
I laughed softly. “Oh, poor you.”
Even though he complained, I knew he was great with kids — always patient, always playing with them.
“You should be thankful,” I said. “If you lived alone in a quiet house like mine, you’d go insane.”
“Then move into my house. Why do you insist on living alone? You act all distant lately. Kind of hurts, you know.”
I didn’t answer, so he kept talking.
“Seriously, my mom and sister basically raised you.”
“That’s an exaggeration! But yes, I’ll never forget how kind your mother was.”
And there he went again — trying to pull me back into the “family” category.
I was so tired of being treated like a little sister.
Still, I knew why he said that.
My parents were barely ever home — maybe a few weeks a year.
They were obsessed with their research, more than with me.
Since I was five or six, I’d mostly lived at Hares’s house.
‘But puberty taught me something important.’
No matter how much someone feels like family… they aren’t.
You can’t cling to them too tightly. You can’t depend on them like you would your real parents.
Not because anyone told me that, but because one day, I just… realized it.
Even the kindest family isn’t your family.
Still, they were my lifesavers. I’d never deny that.
“…I’m really grateful to them,” I said quietly. “But I’m grown up now. I should learn to live on my own.”
“You? Grown up? You’re still tiny — everything about you’s small.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? Do you want to die?”
“My mom said you looked too thin. She wants to feed you properly next time.”
The Duchess — his mother, Irisel — always fussed over me, insisting I wasn’t eating enough.
Then Hares mumbled, almost shyly,
“…Anyway, if you ever get lonely, you can stay at our house. We’ve got plenty of rooms.”
“Do you know how gossip spreads in that house? Unless I’m actually marrying into your family, I can’t stay there.”
“Then marry me.”
He said it so casually, as if it were no big deal.
My heart dropped like a stone.
“…What?”
“If you don’t get married, I’ll marry you out of loyalty. When we’re thirty or so.”
“Are you insane?”
“It’ll be a friendship marriage. No funny business — the thought of anything else makes me sick anyway.”
“…”
For a second, I couldn’t breathe.
It felt like all the sandwiches in my stomach had tangled up and blocked my throat.
‘You always say things like that — making my heart run ahead of me. Making me hope, even when I shouldn’t.’
But in the end…
‘It’s all just a joke.’
He could say things like that so easily because we were too close.
He’d never joke like that with another girl — because they might misunderstand.
But with me, he didn’t have to worry.
Because in his eyes, I wasn’t someone who could ever see him that way.
“I’m sleepy. I’m going to bed,” I muttered.
“Already? I brought cards so we could play.”
“Look at the time! I need to sleep if I want to look decent tomorrow. I have an appointment — I need to take care of my skin.”
“Oh, so you want to look nice for that guy now? You think you’ll get pimples if you stay up?”
He grumbled but still nodded, accepting it.
“Fine. Let’s close the windows and sleep. You take the guest room like usual.”
“No. I’m sleeping in the room next to yours tonight. Your appointment’s early, right? You’ll probably sneak out while I’m asleep.”
Absolutely not!
If he slept next to my room, I wouldn’t get a wink of sleep — for too many reasons.
“My meeting’s at two in the afternoon. Just go to bed.”
“Oh, really?”
He nodded, clearly believing me.
I sighed in relief and stood up too, following him to help close the windows.
But just as we reached the large window in the hall—
A flash of white light exploded before our eyes.
Startled, I flinched violently.
“Kyahhhh!”
“Hey, it’s okay—!”
Before I even realized it, my body moved on instinct — straight into the arms of the person I trusted most.
Before Hares could even react, I had already thrown myself into his arms, clinging tightly around his neck.
“—!”
I felt him tense in surprise, but then the thunder followed, shaking the air.
Boom! Crack! Boom!
“Ahhhh!”
Because the window was still open, the sound was deafening — like fireworks exploding right beside us.
I buried myself deeper into his chest, trembling.
“Hey, wait, uh…”
He sounded a bit awkward, but I was too scared to notice.
Then came the sound of rain — soft, steady, washing everything away.
The cool droplets sprayed in from the open window, brushing against my skin.
My breath came out shaky.
“Haa… haa…”
Slowly, my embarrassment started to return — along with the realization of just how close we were.
“Hey,” he said quietly.
I looked up. His expression was a mix of discomfort and something I couldn’t quite read.
“Why’s your face red? Did the thunder scare you that bad?” I asked.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair.
“That’s not it…”
“Then what?”
“I’m not sure if I should even say this, but…”
He hesitated, lips parting, eyes flicking away.
‘What now? Is he about to tease me again?’
I frowned. “Spit it out.”
He exhaled deeply, as if giving up, and spoke honestly — just like he always did.
“…You’re not wearing anything underneath. I can feel everything against my hand.”
My eyes widened in shock. I mumbled, dazed, “S-sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize, but…”
He looked away quickly, ears turning red.
“Just, uh…”
“…”
“…Could you move your arm?”
Then I finally realized what he meant.
In my panic, I’d pressed myself against him — hard. My chest was firmly resting against his forearm and hand.
And now, neither of us could pretend not to notice it.
