Surviving the Obsessive Lady 10
"The position is different from what I remember."
A chill ran down my spine.
I'd only fluffed the cushion once, changed the water in the flower vase, and wiped the teacups—barely moving at all—and she knew about it?
This wasn't even proper cleaning.
"Ah, well... I did do some cleaning."
I squeezed out an excuse, trying to sound as casual as possible.
"It didn't seem right to let dust collect on the items you gave me... It felt disrespectful."
Please let this flattery slide.
I glanced at her while praying inwardly, and the coldness in her azure eyes warmed up.
"So you wipe down my items every day?"
Her cheeks flushed bright red.
"Oh my."
Her breathing grew ragged. Her fingers twitched.
"...You've been thinking of me that much."
"......"
Was that how it was?
I had no idea how "wiping down items every day" led to "thinking of me," but at least she'd bought it.
Her satisfied expression sank back into the sofa.
I naturally took a seat across from her.
Before she could speak, I sorted my thoughts.
Today... no hypnosis.
By now, even I knew it.
This path was dangerous.
Every hypnosis session filled in her memories with sweet lies and piled up emotions that shouldn't exist.
The result? That glare just now over a single item's position.
I'd talked my way out this time.
But next time?
And the time after that?
One day, she might snap just because she saw me glance at another woman.
That's why I'd decided.
No hypnosis on her for the foreseeable future.
Instead, I'd rely on this.
[Chloe Levantia]
[Weak to Praise]
[Agrees and Nods to Whatever I Say]
[Blushes When Making Eye Contact]
My recent notes on the Lady of Levantia's behaviors.
If these were signs of her affection toward me, then doing the opposite should work somehow.
...Probably.
"Teacher."
The Lady of Levantia spoke first.
"What you just said made me so happy."
"......Just now?"
"About wiping down my items every day."
Ah, that.
I thought it was over, but no.
She trailed off slightly, gauging my reaction.
Her eyes trembled faintly, her lips twitching upward.
Classic appeal. 'I'm happy, so notice that and respond.'
Good. This I could handle.
I deliberately met her gaze.
"They're precious gifts from you, Chloe. It's only natural."
I'd put thought into that line.
Praise included, eye contact made, enthusiastic agreement.
She'd been fine with "Lady of Levantia," but now it was "Chloe." She had to be thrilled.
"Hee-hee, as expected of you, Teacher..."
She tilted her head at my words for a moment.
But she ended with a smile, so I clenched my fist inwardly.
Things seemed to be going okay?
"At the tea party the other day."
The Lady of Levantia abruptly changed the subject.
Cradling her teacup in both hands, she glanced up at me.
"Someone kept talking to me."
"......"
Blatant jealousy bait.
She wasn't saying it outright, but it was practically leading the answer.
So? What will you say, Teacher?
Fine. Play along.
"That must have been uncomfortable."
Her eyes quivered a bit at my cautious words.
"A flower of high society like you, Chloe, must endure that sort of thing often."
Another calculated response.
Empathy first: it must've been uncomfortable.
Then praise: flower of high society.
Not bad, right? I snuck a peek at her.
But.
Her smile faded.
Lips downturned slightly, fingers twitching on her knee.
"......Ah."
Her voice sank.
"Is that what you think?"
As if that wasn't what she needed to hear.
As if the me she knew would say something else.
I could feel the misalignment.
But I had no clue what was wrong.
I'd praised her, agreed enthusiastically, made eye contact.
I'd done it all.
Apparently not for her.
She asked with the utmost seriousness.
"Teacher. What do you think of me?"
Straight fastball into the heart.
Her eyes didn't waver.
No joke, no appeal.
Pure sincerity.
Her faith in me was shaking, so she needed something to nail it down.
I wanted to retract my earlier vow right then.
One hypnosis session to loosen her up, and she'd leave satisfied.
But I knew that wasn't the way.
Instead, I recalled my notes.
Praise first.
"I always think you're so elegant."
I tried to follow up as planned.
But a problem arose.
'Teacher, what do you think of me?'
No room for agreement or nodding along?
"......Ahh."
I stalled there, and her gaze shook.
"So I'm always... elegant, huh."
Her soft murmur.
No smile in her eyes or mouth.
Clink.
She set down her teacup.
"Teacher."
"Yes."
"......Did I do something wrong?"
My heart dropped at her wounded tone.
"No, nothing like that."
"No. It doesn't add up. There must be something I did wrong."
Her bowed head trembled, shoulders shaking.
"No, really, it's not..."
Before I could continue, she stood.
Eyes rimmed red.
Then a perfect, elegant bow. No words.
I tried to say something, but the door closed first.
I looked out the window.
Her fleeing figure, hand over her face, heading to the carriage.
Helen, waiting inside, sensed something off and rushed out.
Her gaze lingered on Chloe briefly before turning to me.
'What the hell did you do to the young lady?'
No normal situation calls for eyes like that.
She must have cried. The Lady of Levantia, who hides her emotions well, couldn't hold back.
Helen quickly averted her gaze and helped Chloe into the carriage.
The last I saw was her wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.
The counseling office fell silent.
Cooled teacup on the table.
Heart-patterned cushion with an indent.
"Haa..."
I stared blankly at where she'd sat.
Slowly replayed the situation.
The count's daughter fled from a shabby alley counseling office in tears.
If word got out?
No, something scarier than rumors.
In her memories, I'm ardently devoted to her.
But suddenly, I acted out of character.
If she felt abandoned here?
If her feelings turned to resentment?
A disowned duke's son couldn't handle the wrath of a count's daughter.
That was the core issue.
The me in her head didn't match reality.
Her remembered me is the world's gentlest man when alone.
Reality me? Just jotting down her behaviors and mimicking them back. Pathetic.
She'd felt that temperature difference.
The gentle me wouldn't act like this without reason, so it must be my fault.
...Only one option left.
To avoid hypnosis-created problems, no hypnosis.
But no-hypnosis problems needed fixing too.
"By acting the part she wants."
Play the 'imagined me' that only exists in her memories.
Without hypnosis.
With my own mouth.
Say the words she craves, at the intensity she desires.
Spew 'my Chloe' from these lips...
Just imagining it made my skin crawl.
"...Still gotta do it."
I'm not asking for much.
Just want to run this counseling office with my perk.
If fumbling the first button means paying the price, then I will.
My doing, my responsibility—even without confidence.
Next morning.
I opened the door to see her—far too familiar now.
"......Good morning, Teacher."
Levantia... no.
Chloe.
Hard to believe she'd fled crying yesterday. Impeccably composed.
Every golden strand perfect.
Outfit flawless.
But some things she couldn't hide.
Darkened eyes. Heavier eye makeup than usual. Slightly swollen lids.
Clearly hadn't slept.
Or cried herself to exhaustion.
Yet here she was again.
Like an abandoned puppy looking up, hoping for one more chance.
Good.
I was resolved.
Time to dive into her arms.
I drew a small breath and met her sparkling blue eyes.
"......I couldn't sleep last night."
"...Pardon?"
"Because Chloe left crying."
Dead silence, like she'd stopped breathing.
Her eyes shook.
She hadn't expected this.
Probably braced for another misalignment like yesterday.
Couldn't stop here.
The imagined me wouldn't.
"Please don't make that face again."
I forced down the tremor in my voice.
"......When my Chloe looks like that, it's hard for me too."
My ears burned.
Face hot.
So embarrassing.
She froze at my words.
Perfectly still, like she couldn't breathe.
Then I saw it.
Trembling lashes.
Reddening nose tip.
Lips pressed tight, holding back sobs.
Her eyes softened, crumbling, and she spoke.
"......That's not fair."
Her voice was wet.
Eyes redder than yesterday.
"What am I supposed to do when you say that..."
Her hand rose to cover her mouth.
But it was useless.
A tear already trailed down.
She cried and smiled.
Then looked up at me through wet eyes.
"......My Isaac."
...What did she just say?
Before my brain processed, she continued.
"When my Isaac makes that face, it's hard for me too."
Tears still falling.
Cheeks blazing, unhidden.
She threw my words right back.
"Hee-hee. Now you feel the same, don't you, Teacher?"
