Alain closed the door with a quiet click, a playful glint in his eyes. He was going to tease Misha a little, just to see what would happen.
He considered this "teasing" serious business. He wanted to test his theory: was that in-ga progress bar truly asuring Misha's "shyness"? It seed perfectly reasonable, given the circumstances, to put his theory to the test.
He turned back to face her, their eyes eting across the small room. "So, you're planning on marrying ?"
"Yes!" Misha's answer was imdiate, her earnest expression unwavering. It was clear she hadn't quite grasped the underlying question.
Alain started an internal countdown: Three… two… one…
"Eh? Marriage? No, no... That's not exactly what I ant. Well, it's… sort of similar, actually." Misha's thoughts seed to be chasing their own tail, circling back to Alain, leaving him montarily bewildered.
"...Really? Are you really going to marry ?"
The progress bar remained stubbornly static. So much for the "shyness" theory.
He feigned seriousness, mulling over the possibilities aloud, right in front of Misha. "Indeed… I have accepted your proposal." He raised his hand, showcasing the dark green ring on his finger. "And… we practically eloped from that wicked woman's clutches. Quite a romantic escapade, wouldn't you say?"
"Yes, I think so too," Misha agreed, drawn into his line of thinking. Alain found himself quietly amused.
"We're not actually getting married, are we?"
"Of course not, darling. We need to settle in first. I was just playing along." Her cheeks were flushed a delicate pink, her fingers twisting together nervously. "No, that's not… that's not what I wanted to say."
"Please, go on," Alain encouraged.
He moved towards the small, sparsely equipped kitchen, intending to pour them both so water. Glancing at the disposable cups, he made a ntal note: Need to buy Misha so personal care items. Surely girl things can't be that expensive? Besides, it's Misha's settlent money anyway.
"We should go to the mall tomorrow," he said aloud, "and bring Misha along."
Just then, Misha gently took the kettle from his hand.
The whoosh of water flowing from the spout filled the silence. Misha, focused on pouring, looked directly at Alain.
"This is what I've been thinking."
Her soft, pink lips parted slightly, and for a mont, Alain's gaze was drawn to the rising water level in the cup, only to be pulled back by her words.
"From now on, all the housework in your ho… I— Kind… No, Misha, will take care of it."
"I see." Now he understood her "sort of similar" comnt after he'd brought up marriage. In essence, Misha wanted to be his stay-at-ho wife, a housewife.
But, in Alain's mind, Misha didn't need to do anything. The system had already deposited her settlent fee directly into his account.
"Actually, you don't have to—"
"No, darling. Since I'm going to be living with you, I absolutely will not be a burden!" Her eyes were fiercely determined, radiating an undeniable resolve.
"You're not a burden; you're my good comrade."
"Indeed, darling. But that was in the ga. In reality, I don't want to..."
Her voice trailed off. She lowered her head, her eyelids drooping, a clear wave of disappointnt washing over her features.
"..."
She simply wasn't used to the real world yet.
Misha's organizational, planning, and execution skills were truly top-notch. It was just that her thinking was a bit… rigid. To put it plainly, she adhered strictly to her principles.
So cute, Alain thought, a faint smile playing on his lips. "I agree."
"R-Really? You're so kind!"
"No, you're very kind too."
Alain's apartnt wasn't the stereotypical disaster zone of a NEET, mainly because he had a bit of a clean streak. With Misha around, he could actually free up ti, ti he could spend strategizing against – or rather, dealing with – that wicked woman.
But his train of thought was abruptly interrupted. The air near his hand was growing uncomfortably warm.
"Wait a minute… steam?"
A sudden realization dawned on him. Sothing was definitely wrong. He looked at the kettle Misha was holding. The spout was now empty.
And the cup was overflowing. Boiling water spilled over the rim, spreading across the countertop in a shimring, dangerous pool.
A thin stream of scalding water was snaking its way towards Misha.
"Hey! Move the water!"
"Huh?"
Misha looked down, a small cry escaping her lips. She quickly set the kettle down, but it was too late. The boiling water, cascading off the counter, splashed directly onto her leg.
...
"O-Ow, it hurts…"
Leaning back against the worn sofa, Misha rested her leg across Alain's lap. He was carefully applying burn ointnt to the inflad skin.
Tears welled in the corners of her eyes, her face flushed with pain, as she stared at the angry red blisters forming on her leg.
"If you know it hurts, then be more careful," Alain chided gently, scooping a small amount of ointnt onto his fingertips.
"B-But…" Misha averted her gaze, clearly embarrassed. "In the ga, when the cup is full… the kettle stops pouring."
"..."
Alain paused, the ointnt hovering over her skin. He sighed, then resud his careful application.
The skin around the blisters was a furious red, a stark contrast against the smooth, pale perfection of her leg.
"Silly. This isn't the ga; it's reality. Rember that, and be careful in the future."
"I'm sorry…"
A soft, almost involuntary "Mmm…" escaped her lips as the cool ointnt made contact with her burning skin.
Out of the corner of his eye, Alain saw Misha quickly cover her mouth. Her earlobes, already flushed from the pain, deepened to a beautiful, rosy hue.
Earlier, focused on treating the burn, he hadn't given their position a second thought. Now, it hit him. They were in a pose that mirrored… a couple.
Misha stole a shy glance at Alain, then at her leg resting so intimately in front of him.
And Alain was applying ointnt to it.
The warmth of her body, radiating through the fabric of her pants, the subtle, sweet fragrance emanating from her skin… Alain was acutely aware of it all.
The atmosphere in the small room shifted, subtly but undeniably, sparked by Misha's soft cry.
Alain realized, with a sudden clarity, that there was going to be another girl in his house. And Misha, too, seed to grasp the full weight of their new living arrangent – sharing the sa roof, the sa space…
"..."
He looked at her, and she looked at him.
Dark eyes t deep blue for a fleeting two seconds, then both quickly looked away.
"T-That… It feels a little awkward, doesn't it?" Misha finally whispered.
"...May I change the subject?" Alain asked.
"Yes! Darling, please do." Relief flooded Misha's expression.
Alain let his gaze drift around the sparsely furnished apartnt, finally settling on the darkened doorway of the bedroom.
"Let's decide first, who's sleeping where tonight?"
"Hmm…" Misha's face instantly turned serious, her brow furrowed in concentration. "How many beds do you have?"
"One."
"I see, then we'll have to sleep together." Misha glanced sideways at him, gauging his reaction. "Darling… you won't mind, will you?"
"...Is there a possibility that one of us could sleep on the floor?"
"..."
The mont the words left her lips, Misha realized their implication. Her face turned an even deeper shade of crimson.
"I'm sorry… In the ga, you can't sleep on the floor."
____
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