How to Ta My Beastly Husband — Chapter 105. Love Makes Him Clumsy (3)
Raphael covered his face with his hand. As soon as he thought about it, the tidal wave of overwhelming emotions crashed over him, including a previously-unknown feeling that he wanted to ignore, and would stubbornly deny to the bitter end.
I think I am in love. Damn it.
He thought of the mont when Arjen had shouted Annette’s na, and even though he had been in the middle of a duel with live steel swinging at his head, he had forgotten everything but her. Harshly trained in combat, disciplining his body to obedience, and still his body had betrayed him, turning on its own to search for her, as if he would die if he did not rest his eyes upon her that instant.
Raphael’s eyes faded as the emotion of that mont struck him again.
“Raphael? Does it really hurt? Is there sothing I can do?” Annette asked, but instead of answering, he only covered his eyes. She could see that his jaw was clenched and trembling a little. Did it hurt that badly? She snatched her hands off his arm anxiously.
“Don’t go anywhere. I’m fine,” said Raphael, reaching out to hug her from behind. When she looked up, she could see the anguish in his face, and Annette’s heart broke for him. He had so much pride, it must have been a shock to lose to Claire with his wife watching.
“You were wonderful,” she said. “I don’t know very much about swords, but everything I saw was amazing! Especially how fast you were, and you were so quick with your sword…”
Gently, she hugged his arm, comforting him affectionately. Annette had always been weak to Raphael when he was like this. Perhaps it was because she was used to it. She had been comforting people since she was a child.
From a distance, Claire peeked out from her husband’s embrace to glance at Annette, smiling a secret smile. Annette looked as dainty as a fairy as she tried to comfort her giant husband, so much bigger than she. No matter how twisted a person was, they could not help being enchanted by Annette.
Now that I’ve forced him to admit it, my pretty Annette will be much happier, she thought smugly.
There was no doubt that if she hadn’t acted, Raphael would have dragged his feet forever before he understood. He was a stubborn man, and not easily swayed by emotions, and in the anti, Annette would have continued to suffer.
So Claire had given him a little nudge. The result was startling.
“That’s a pretty picture,” she said to Arjen. “Isn’t it, darling?”
* * *
It was sad but true that the good tis never lasted.
Having seen her visitors off at the door, Annette paused and shook her head. Raphael had gone out ahead of her, and now he had been distracted by a patch of drooping dandelions on the ground. From the look on his face, they might have wilted under that grim stare.
What was wrong with him lately?
Annette’s head cocked to one side as she wondered. Since his duel with Claire, Raphael had beco very strange. Often distracted, deep in thought, and sotis she would catch him staring at her with a rather foolish expression on his face. But as soon as she spoke to him, he always turned quickly away.
He behaved almost as if she had wronged him sohow, and Annette didn’t understand what was going on. It seed that his loss to Claire had upset him greatly.
“Raphael,” she said carefully, trying to avoid the sore spot. “Are you all right?”
“…Huh?” He started, jolted out of his reverie, but did not face her.
Annette was beginning to feel a little hurt.
“It’s just, you’ve been a little strange lately,” she said earnestly, unable to ignore it any longer. “Did I do sothing wrong? You won’t even look at …”
“It’s not that,” Raphael said curtly, looking away. That cold attitude matched his cold beauty perfectly, and she didn’t dare to try to push him.
Never mind. She would be leaving him anyway, Anette reminded herself, but she could not disguise the fleeting sadness in her face.
The sight made Raphael anxious. Lately, he had felt a pang of fear every ti he saw that look on her face.
“I’m just a little crazy,” he said, prompted unconsciously to add a quick explanation. “Annette.”
“What?”
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