The boy remains curled up, stubbornly keeping his eyes shut. But his perked ears, turned toward him, and the tail twitching restlessly as if unsettled make it clear that every nerve in his body is strained, listening to every word.
He could make excuses. He could dodge the issue. But Calyx has no intention of doing either.
Last night, when he felt dizzy from the boy’s lips and that sweet breath, he understood it clearly. This wasn’t just the affection one feels toward a small, fragile creature. Nor was it merely endless curiosity and interest toward a strange, fascinating boy.
The boy got angry, but that doesn’t mean he has even the slightest intention of stopping. He’ll taste those lips again, and he’ll taste that breath again as well. And to do that, simply soothing the boy’s anger won’t be enough.
“They look startled—and angry.”
The boy’s nose wrinkles. It seems last night’s memories have resurfaced.
Calyx gently strokes the boy’s back with an endlessly tender touch and speaks in a low voice.
“I’m planning to apologize tonight.”
A soft snort escapes from the small, damp nose. Calyx forcibly wipes away the smile creeping onto his lips. Then he bends down and whispers into the boy’s ear.
“I’ll say I was wrong and apologize. And after that, I’ll tell them. That I think I’ve fallen for them.”
The boy’s body stiffens completely. Calyx stops breathing and watches the rigid boy with narrowed eyes. After a moment of stillness, the boy’s body jerks with a small sound.
Hic.
Hic hic.
The boy opens his eyes wide, hiccupping as he stares at Calyx. Calyx smiles softly and whispers once more, as if confirming it.
“If I say I like them… will they accept it?”
As he whispers while gazing into those pitch-black eyes right up close, the boy, who had been staring blankly, suddenly pushes off the floor with his front paws and flutters backward. Then, like an arrow, he dives under the bed.
Hearing the hiccupping coming from beneath the bed, Calyx suppresses his laughter, letting out a quiet chuckle.
How is it possible that not a single thing he does is anything but adorable?
As Calyx sits quietly on the bed, the hiccupping sounds gradually subside. Instead, he senses restless, fidgeting movements. The boy’s flustered state comes through vividly.
Calyx retrieves the basket he’d set down by the bed and pulls out a ball of red yarn, placing it right in front of where the boy is hiding.
The boy’s movements freeze the instant he notices the yarn. Calyx, still seated on the bed, calmly watches the ball of yarn. For the boy to grab it, he’ll have to stretch a paw out from under the bed—so all Calyx has to do is wait.
Some time passes.
There’s no reaction at all, but Calyx continues to observe below with relaxed eyes. And after a little while longer—just as expected—a small, adorable black paw slowly stretches out from beneath the bed.
The black paw taps the ball of yarn once, then slips right back in. After a moment, it stretches out again, taps it, and withdraws once more. As Calyx remains still, the black paw appears again. This time, unlike before, sharp claws hook into the yarn ball and slowly drag it under the bed.
Hearing the sounds of the boy rolling around beneath the bed, Calyx lets a gentle smile rest on his lips. Then he pushes the basket under the bed as well.
With both the red yarn ball and the basket now his, the boy moves busily. Calyx leans back against the headboard, closes his eyes, and traces the boy’s presence by sound.
From the rustling noises, it seems the boy has carried the yarn ball in his mouth and placed it inside the basket. Judging by how noisily he’s moving, he must have climbed into the basket, hugging the yarn and rolling around. He’s rolling so enthusiastically that the basket even bumps against the floor with a clatter.
When things suddenly go quiet after a long bout of play, Calyx opens his eyes.
Turning his head, he sees two perked ears slowly rising up from beneath the bed. Then the boy peeks out, a ball of yarn clutched in his mouth. When Calyx smiles quietly, the boy hops up onto the bed with the red yarn still in his mouth. He pads over and curls his body against Calyx’s waist, lying down.
The black eyes that had been sneaking glances suddenly snap away when their gazes meet. Then, using Calyx’s side as a wall, the boy turns his back to him and begins rolling around, hugging the red yarn ball and tumbling back and forth. It seems his mood has softened, at least a little.
Calyx offers his side to both the boy and the red ball of yarn, watching the scene with pleased eyes.
***
BANG!
The door slams shut violently.
Standing before the closed door, Calyx lets out a bitter smile.
The boy snatched only the clothes through the crack in the door, then shut it as if his business was finished.
He’d deliberately sent the tailor away and brought the clothes himself, but it seems even that small bit of cleverness didn’t work easily. His hope that the boy might just let him in—since they’d spent the entire evening stuck to his side playing—was, as expected, nothing but wishful thinking.
He can feel the knights behind him growing flustered.
It’s only natural. They’d just witnessed their lord being brushed off right in front of them. They’re probably torn between breaking down the door and dragging the boy out, or pretending they saw nothing, as they’ve done until now.
Calyx silently waits, staring at the tightly shut door. If his thinking is correct, the boy will surely open this door again and let him in.
How much time passes?
The door creaks open slightly, and the boy’s face peeks out through the gap. He glances at Calyx, still standing in the exact same spot as before, then narrows his eyes.
“K.”
He calls out with a pleased expression, but suspicion and wariness dangle plainly in those narrow black eyes. After staring at him with that sharp gaze for a moment, the boy opens the door a bit wider and tilts his head, gesturing for him to come in. Afraid the boy might change his mind, Calyx strides straight through the open door.
The state of the room is exactly as he expected.
The clothes the boy had snatched through the crack in the door are spread messily across the bed. It’s obvious he’d hurriedly tried them on.
The boy walks over to the bed, rummages through the clothes with his hands, then glances up. He rummages again, glances again. He clearly needs to say something, but since he’s still angry, he doesn’t want to be the one to speak first. Calyx takes the clothes from the boy’s hands. They’re made from the green fabric they’d measured and basted together not long ago.
“I’ll help you put them on.”
When Calyx speaks first, the boy snorts, then slips his arms into the opened garment as if granting a favor.
Formal attire takes effort just to put on. For the most part, you can’t dress or undress in it alone. It’s only natural that the boy, eager to try it on in excitement, had raised both hands. Though he’d been rejected once already, sending the tailor away had been well worth it. Otherwise, he wouldn’t even have gained the excuse of attending to the boy’s clothes like this.
Once the top is fully on, the boy hesitates. It’s because of the bottoms in Calyx’s hands. The shirt is fine—he was already wearing a white one underneath—but to try on new trousers, he’d have to take off what he’s wearing now. Given that he’s already on guard “in that way,” he clearly isn’t thrilled about taking his pants off.
Pretending not to notice, Calyx bends his knees and offers the trousers.
A sharp gaze pours down on him. After glaring for a moment, the boy seems to steel himself and removes what he’s wearing. He pulls them down in one motion, then kicks the clothes caught around his ankles far away. From that forceful kick, Calyx can feel the warning loud and clear: if he harbors any improper thoughts, he’ll be kicked just the same.
The boy places his hands on Calyx’s shoulders. Calyx narrows his eyes as he looks at the boy’s legs revealed beneath the top. They draw his gaze differently than before—different even from the time he’d run around naked under the moonlight. It’s probably because the way he looks at the boy himself has changed. Unfortunately, the boy’s legs disappear into the clothes again in no time, but Calyx calmly fastens the waist and straightens the outfit.
The boy, who’d been bristling with caution, immediately scurries over to the mirror. Calyx slowly approaches him as he examines his reflection from every angle.
The moment their eyes meet in the mirror, Calyx sees the black eyes turn fierce. It’s hard to believe those are the same eyes that had been pressed happily against his side just a few hours ago.
“Pervert.”
The boy spits out the word.
Pervert, really. Clicking his tongue inwardly, Calyx bends down and kneels in front of the boy. As he reaches out to carefully adjust the outfit, colorful breaths spill from the boy’s mouth. His heartbeat has sped up noticeably. He’s extremely tense.
“I was wrong, K.”
Calyx whispers softly.
At the apology, the sharpness in the boy’s eyes softens—just a little. Calyx doesn’t miss that opening and continues speaking.
“I won’t kiss you without permission anymore, so calm down.”
