Pounce on Me, Escort Knight! - 4
Lucia woke up that morning just as she always did.
She was a little sleepy, but she changed clothes as usual and finished her meal. She helped Paul with the housework, and conversation flowed steadily between them the whole time.
Before they knew it, it was lunch.
Lucia knew nothing about cooking, and Paul was the sort who went completely silent once he concentrated, so a brief quiet settled over them. Lucia seemed perfectly content just sitting still and watching him.
Time slipped into night. With an awkward stretch of evening left before sleep, Paul sat at the table and Lucia took the seat across from him. Dressed in her pajamas, she made small talk with him simply to pass the time until she grew drowsy.
Then, as if something had only just occurred to her, she said,
"Oh right—I got a bottle of wine as a gift. Want to try some?"
"You can't drink, though."
"It's a full moon. A full moon! We should try something new. And when you think of vampires, it's wine, right?"
Paul had been about to refuse, but the anticipation sparkling in her eyes made him scratch his head with a low "Hmm…"
"…Well, days like this happen too. It's a holiday, after all. It's been a while since I've had wine this late at night."
"A while? This is my first time."
"When we first said we wanted to come to Peltwin together, Teo agonized over it for ages. I was his drinking buddy back then. Well, being a drinking buddy to your employer is a little weird. Anyway, while I was barely managing to persuade him about Peltwin, we drank together."
Teo… that would be Lucia's father. Well, what parent would cheerfully agree to their daughter living alone with her escort knight in another region?
"…I didn't know you went to that much trouble. Thank you—so I'll pour first."
Lucia dashed to the kitchen and came back with two wine glasses and a silver cloth. She gave the insides a quick wipe, set one glass in front of Paul, and slipped the cloth into her pocket. A soft murmur of "It's newly bought, so it should be fine" floated over.
"You know how to drink it, right?"
She uncorked the bottle and carefully poured into Paul's glass.
"Of course I do. But this isn't a formal gathering, so we can just enjoy the taste, right?"
"Ahaha, fair point."
Once his glass was filled, Paul took the bottle and poured for Lucia.
"Even so, Lucy. Red wine—less than half. Remember that."
"Who was the one who just said we only need to enjoy the taste?"
…Ah. I had only explained the method. Still, Lucia let it slide naturally. I should apologize later, I thought.
With both glasses filled, they lightly toasted and began to drink. It had a refined feel; I was briefly impressed.
"How's the taste? I think it's pretty good."
"Feels like gift wine. Not cheap, but not especially high-end either."
Paul took a sip and studied the contents as he spoke. Lucia answered, "It should be fine for a first wine," and took another sip herself.
"…Well, I say that, but I don't really know. I haven't even tasted double-digit numbers of wines."
"I had plenty of chances, but Father always stopped me saying I was too young. So the first alcohol I ever drank was with you at the guild, Paul."
"Back then I first thought it was a relief you were the youngest."
"That's rude. …Though it's true I can't hold my liquor."
Lucia answered with a faint smile and took another sip. Paul waited until she set the glass down, then refilled it.
"Mmm… I think I'm getting drunk. Starting to feel sleepy."
"It is late, and you always fall asleep once you drink. It's fine if you just sleep like that. I'll carry you to bed."
"I won't fall asleep until I've finished it all."
Lucia lightly slapped both cheeks with her hands. She had done the same thing at my bar last time; it seemed to be her way of clearing her head. Once she had steadied herself, she picked up a bit of speed. Was she trying to get as drunk as possible before sleep? It felt as though she were pushing herself.
"I like this…"
She emptied her glass again, but Paul, hoping she wouldn't overdo it, stopped refilling it.
"Paul~ Your glass is empty~"
"It's not empty. I just poured it."
"Then I should drink it~"
At some point Lucia had put away a considerable amount and clearly gotten drunk. Well, in that short span she had quietly downed several more glasses, so it was hardly surprising.
"Let's stop soon. You don't want to spend the rest of the holiday with a headache, do you?"
"Okay~"
Lucia picked up the cork instead of the bottle and demurely folded her hands on her knees. She stared at her glass a moment, then lifted her head and began calling Paul's name over and over. She called him, heard his reply, and grinned goofily. She repeated the little ritual for a while.
"Paul~"
"You're really drunk, Lucy. Right now you're somehow… floppy, I guess. Like a liquid. I've never seen you like this."
"I don't like floppy—I like soft and squishy!"
"Then soft and squishy it is."
Lucia muttered "soft and squishy~" while fiddling with the cork. Suddenly she made a little "Hwat!" of surprise and stared at her empty hands. She promptly informed Paul she had dropped the cork and crawled under the table.
The cork was easy enough to find, yet she never returned to her chair. What she was doing, in fact, was slowly creeping toward Paul in the opposite seat. Once she reached him she shouted,
"Paul!!"
and launched herself at the patch of his stomach visible beneath the table. She wrapped her arms around his middle where he sat and buried her face against him.
"…Lucy?"
Despite his flustered voice, she showed no sign of letting go. Judging by her breathing, she seemed to be breathing in his scent. Perhaps for that reason Paul did not dare touch her casually. After a moment to collect himself he began to stroke her hair slowly.
"I like you… Paul… I like you…"
Nestled against him, Lucia murmured the words as if to herself. Paul continued stroking her with a complicated expression, then hastily pulled his hand away when she suddenly lifted her head. Her face was resolute.
"Paul. Marry me."
"Marry?"
"Yeah. I'll make you happy."
Proposing marriage on the spot. I was briefly impressed by the rare straight-line approach.
"Proposals are for lovers."
"Then let's be lovers! Be my boyfriend!"
"Hmm…"
Faced with her confession, Paul averted his gaze as if the weight of it were too much. He turned the glass Lucia had filled—untouched—between his fingers, lost in thought. Reading rejection in his face, Lucia spoke again.
"Why…? If there's something lacking in me, I'll fix it…"
"No, it's not that, Lucy. I was just thinking for a moment."
He denied it in a hurry at her dejected tone. She never took her eyes off him.
"Th-then… answer me. I like you, Paul… Will you be my lover…?"
"…Sorry. I can't answer right now."
Paul looked away with open discomfort, and tears welled in Lucia's eyes.
"You know how much I like you… At least tell me the reason… I'll, I'll do whatever…"
She could not finish and began to cry.
"I like you, Paul, I like you… Say you like me too while you stroke me like earlier… I-if you just accept my confession, I'll listen well and won't act spoiled…"
"…"
"I won't bother you in the mornings either, and I won't force anything…"
Paul gave no answer. It did not look like indifference; from his face and restless hands he seemed to be desperately racing through thoughts.
"A-answer me. Paul. Anything is fine…"
"…Lucy."
"Rather—rather reject me. If I'm a burden and not your type of woman, just say clearly that you hate it."
Her voice cracked and trembled with the anxiety of his silence.
"I tell you my feelings every single day, but never being accepted or returned is too scary… So, so…"
She released the arms that had held him, covered her face, and wept. Paul looked as though he had no idea what to do. He reached out, then withdrew; opened his mouth, then closed it again. He scratched his head, rubbed his brow, and fretted with his own hands. A long time passed while Lucia's breathing slowly steadied. At last she drew a deep breath, wiped her eyes with her sleeve, and spoke.
"Sorry. I… I've calmed down."
In the end, until her tears stopped, Paul had been able to do nothing for her. After steadying her breath beneath the table, she returned to her seat.
"…"
"…"
Silence stretched between them until, after one very short breath, Lucia opened her mouth again.
"Sorry. I said something burdensome because I was drunk."
She was regulating her emotions, trying hard to sound all right—though the broken voice and uneven breathing still made Paul flinch.
"You won't drink any more, right? I'll clean up. Let's hurry and go rest."
She tried to cork the half-empty bottle with the cork still in her hand. It would not seat properly, and she struggled for a moment.
"Lucy."
"…What?"
Paul, who had been hanging his head as if in pain, spoke quietly.
"What I'm about to say—listen to the end."
"…Okay."
She set the bottle down and sat again. Before beginning, Paul took a sip of the wine still in his glass.
"…Sorry. For making you suffer."
"No. It was my unrequited love, so what of it."
When she said "unrequited love," Paul's lips twitched faintly.
"You asked me to answer."
"Yeah. Please."
He interlaced his fingers; she clenched her hands tightly. Lucia kept her head down; Paul lifted his.
"…I. I'm sorry, but I can't date you, Lucy."
"I… understand…"
She did not raise her bowed head. Paul looked straight at her. Judging by the words alone it was a regrettable ending, yet it felt as though he had not finished speaking.
"It's getting late, so go in and sleep, Paul. I'll clean this up."
Her voice trembled, cracked, and hovered on the edge of tears. She rose with the bottle, carefully avoiding his eyes.
"The reason I can't date you is—"
Standing with her back to him, Lucia trembled all over and squeezed her eyes shut. A single tear slipped from beneath the lids.
"…Because Teo said not to date until graduation."
At that, she carefully opened the eyes she had clenched shut.
"H-huh…?"
He had given someone's name as the reason for refusal. She seemed to be turning the meaning over and over in her mind.
"Lucy."
Watching her freeze in place, Paul spoke with a gentle expression.
"Listen to the story until the end. Will you sit down?"
"…Okay."
She tried to answer as bluntly as possible, yet she could not stop the corners of her mouth from twitching. For some reason she sat in the chair beside him; Paul looked as if he meant to say something about it, then stopped. Lucia turned fully toward him.
"My dad told you not to date me?"
"I came to Peltwin under the condition that no lover would appear for you until graduation."
She nodded once, small, and sighed.
"…Then all my unrequited love until now was because of Dad…?"
"It might not be unrequited love."
At that single phrase, Lucia—who had been fiddling with the hem of her pajamas—looked up at him. Paul held the wine glass lightly, staring into its contents.
"So…"
He swallowed whatever he had been about to say, opening and closing his mouth a few times. Lucia waited with her hands clasped for him to speak. Paul moved the glass, drained the remaining wine in one swallow, then met the eyes of the girl sitting beside him.
"—So, I like you too, Lucy."
He said it quietly.