Because I Like You a Little
Lucia sat beside me with a bright smile, offering up excuses that wouldn't fool a soul. "Aww, come on, don't be mad. I just got caught up in the moment. It's not like I did it on purpose!" Even as she pretended to soothe my sulking self, the way she kept running her fingers over her own lips made her true intention perfectly clear. She was teasing me, plain and simple. Yeah, if I had to sum it up, I was sulking again. This time, I was genuinely upset.
Honestly, this was crossing the line.
I could let her clingy behavior and overly familiar attitude slide, but forcing a kiss on someone? In a way, that was a crime all by itself. Sure, it had ended with nothing more than a quick peck, so maybe I should count myself lucky. Still...
It just feels wrong.
I'm not even sure the word "lucky" belongs anywhere near the concept of sexual harassment.
"But let's be real, you liked it too. You had this look on your face like you were in heaven, so I was going to go for another one—"
"Quiet! Just be quiet!"
This was... yeah. It couldn't be helped. It was my first kiss, after all. There was nothing wrong with feeling a thrill over my first kiss, was there? I kept denying it because admitting I'd actually enjoyed it after calling it harassment would be a disaster.
No matter what, it was my first kiss. The atmosphere had turned so strangely intimate that my reason had briefly flown out the window.
"I wasn't displeased by it, but I still don't like it when you kiss me without permission like that."
This much should be enough evidence to bury the slight flutter I'd felt, right? With my heart steadied once more, I turned to Lucia with calm eyes.
"If you're angry... um... do you want to touch my chest?"
Lucia couldn't hold back and dropped another bomb. One slip and the next attack was already incoming. She never even gave me time to breathe.
Why does she keep spitting out these impossible statements without pause?
She kept saying things that were difficult to repeat in front of others or that could easily cause misunderstandings. When I simply stared at her in silence, Lucia took it as wordless consent and began unbuttoning her top one by one.
"Here, touch as much as you—"
"Please stop talking nonsense."
I started buttoning up her open collar again. Lucia watched me quietly, then placed her hand on my head and stroked it gently.
"Good boy. There, there. Such a good boy."
"...What am I, a dog? Are you seriously praising me while petting my head?"
"Isn't listening well and protecting the person you love the same thing?"
I almost nodded before catching myself and shaking my head vigorously. Me, loving Lucia? That was ridiculous. I could admit to liking her to some degree, but that didn't automatically lead to love. For it to be love, wouldn't it require a deeper emotion and a more tightly bound relationship?
Our relationship... isn't that deep.
Of course, we were currently in that vague space between friends and lovers. But if you asked whether this would develop into a romantic relationship, I'd say no. A connection like a one-night blaze where both sides burned hot and fierce was naturally fragile. And even if we moved past that and truly started caring for each other, it was still uncertain whether I could accept Geumtaeyang.
"To correct myself, I do not love Lucia."
"I-I see..."
Lucia, who had been so excited, visibly deflated at my blunt words. The sight reminded me of an adorable rabbit with its ears drooping.
"...Not yet."
Before I knew it, I'd left the door open with those words. What annoyed me even more was how I unconsciously found her face lighting up at them cute. Lately, it seemed like no matter what happened, my thoughts kept drifting toward how adorable Lucia was.
Did someone hypnotize me or something?
I already knew the novel I'd possessed had no character with that kind of ability. Still, watching myself act like I was possessed by something made me grasp at that excuse even though I rationally understood it was impossible.
"Let me say it again. I'm a man too. Please be more careful."
After I'd finished buttoning every last one of her undone buttons and spoke gruffly, Lucia's eyes sparkled again. But perhaps seeing the sincerity in my gaze, she cleared her throat.
"I understand, but..."
She paused deliberately, then grabbed my tie again, tugging it lightly as she spoke. It seemed grabbing my tie and adding a bit of flirtation wasn't optional for her—it was mandatory.
"I don't do this with other guys. I only do it with you."
Even now she was making my heart flutter for no reason. The world really was unfair.
"Please don't say things like that either. I don't—"
I tried to continue, but my voice caught in my throat as if something had blocked it. It felt like my mouth was refusing to speak the thoughts in my head.
"You don't what?"
I clearly needed to say I didn't like her. I had to. But trying to force the words out made my body feel like it was tightening, as if I were telling a lie. My vocal cords seemed completely blocked.
"Huu..."
Giving up on trying to persuade her, I pulled water from my bag and started drinking. It was meant to ease my tight throat, but it didn't seem to help much.
"...What are you doing?"
Maybe the reason it still felt tight was because Lucia had pressed her hand against my Adam's apple. At some point she'd scooted right up beside me, placed her fingers on my throat as I swallowed, and kept letting out fascinated little gasps of "Whoa!"
...Was drinking water really that amazing? I felt like a zoo animal that got applause for everything it did.
"So this is how a guy's throat moves when he swallows... Interesting..."
Lucia murmured in wonder, comparing her own throat to mine. She really found wonder in the strangest things. When I sighed and pushed her hand away, she naturally climbed onto my lap and started rubbing her head against my chest.
"Why are you doing this again? It's burdenso—"
Just as our usual pattern of her approaching and me expressing rejection was about to repeat itself—
"Jack, you know..."
Lucia's low voice slipped into my ear. From her tone and pitch, this wasn't the playful teasing she'd been doing until now. She seemed genuinely serious about whatever she was about to say.
When I tilted my head to listen, she fidgeted for a moment before squeezing her eyes shut and blurting out the question.
"D-Do you... really not hate me? Or find me disgusting or anything like that?"
Her voice carried a heavy, subtle melancholy. It sounded like the whimper of a sad abandoned dog that had been forsaken by its owner. Hearing a tone so similar to the one I'd once had made me feel inexplicably sorry.
"It's not like that. It's just... a bit sudden."
Seeing her like that, I revealed a sliver of the sincerity I'd been trying to hide. I'd only said it to comfort her out of pity, but—
"Hehe... Really? So you don't hate me anymore?"
That alone seemed to make her happy. She flapped her arms in delight and rubbed her face even harder against my chest. So hard that it wouldn't have been surprising if friction smoke started rising from the spot.
Watching her, I felt a sudden impulse to tell her an old story. But...
It would probably be poison to the current Lucia.
It was an obvious truth that would hurt her now, so I simply smiled and slowly stroked her soft hair, pulling her a little closer.
There was no longer any room for doubt.
She was so stubborn about it, but she succeeded in the end.
It seemed I'd fallen to Lucia. Collapsed so miserably I couldn't resist or stand back up, crumbling with a pathetic crash.
But how could I explain this? Not every relationship in the world ends neatly with affection. The story between me and Lucia wasn't one that could be wrapped up so cleanly with the emotion called love.
That's why, even though I like her, I have to push her away.
I pulled out the memories I'd tried so hard to forget and recalled the day my mother died. I knew I was pathetic for remaining trapped in the past and abandoning the present, but this was like a small promise I'd sent to my future self during those hard times.
It's so long ago that it's hazy even in memory, but I can't betray it.
A person caught by the ankles of past ghosts, unable to break free. That was me. Even after ten more years on Earth and eight years in this world without properly taking care of myself, I was still stuck in that time. I probably didn't deserve to be loved or to love anyone. Especially if the reason I couldn't move on was because of the terribly twisted love entangled in those events.
"Lucia."
So I should cut things off coldly without giving her false hope. I shouldn't create someone who would have to live the same days I did.
"Hmm? What's wrong?"
Seeing her tilt her head while sitting on my lap made my resolve weaken. She didn't seem like a bad person by nature. Maybe it was okay to treat her a little more kindly.
An emotion that was no different from poison to someone with strong convictions.
"Why are you staring so hard? Am I that pretty?"
The desire to keep seeing that grinning face welled up inside me. Whatever I'd gone through in the past, whatever Lucia had done, I wanted to throw it all away and hold her.
Was that why? Even as my mind resisted, my hand remained on top of her head, stroking her hair. The position—her sitting on my lap, head buried in my chest as I petted her—was something only lovers would do.
Was it the happiness that exceeded my station? Or simply because the girl right in front of me like this was too adorable?
"Even if I don't love you yet..."
My mouth could no longer move according to rational judgment. It was as if someone had grabbed my vocal cords and was forcing the words out. Everything in my heart spilled out without filter.
"I like you... a little."
It was only after some time had passed that I realized this was a statement close to a confession.