Spoon-Fed Affection and a Stolen Confession
As Vita fidgeted with her hands, overcome by a mix of embarrassment and that strange feeling, Carlyle Schultz thought to himself, 'Does she want me to feed her?'
A smirk tugged at his lips, but not for any teasing reason. No, it was simply because he couldn't get enough of how she kept some distance despite everything—her hair a little messy from just waking up, wary eyes that didn't outright push him away. Bianca Shama looked just like a kitten, and watching her was endlessly entertaining.
And though Carlyle wasn't usually the warm type to go this far—more the kind to receive than give—he scooped up a spoonful of porridge and held it out like presenting to royalty.
"Here, eat up."
The spoon hovered right in front of her mouth.
'I'm not a kid...' Vita pursed her lips in protest, but at the same time, it didn't feel half bad. Moving her arm seemed like such a hassle anyway, especially lying down like this. So after a fierce internal debate, Vita made her choice: she propped herself up just enough and meekly accepted the bite.
Sure, it was a bit cringey and not entirely welcome, but he was putting in the effort.
'...!'
"How's the taste?" Carlyle's casual question followed.
Vita's eyes widened in shock after swallowing. It was watery, bland as dishwater. Utterly disgusting.
"You... you have no idea how to make porridge, do you?"
This wasn't porridge. It was more like slop.
Carlyle's expression stiffened slightly at her words. He took a taste himself, then furrowed his brow just like she had.
"It's bad, right?"
"Nah, it's delicious."
A brazen lie. Look at that face—scrunched up in disgust, yet claiming it was good. Vita burst out laughing, pfft.
It was obviously awful.
Carlyle scratched his head and admitted his failure in a roundabout way.
"...Honestly, first time trying."
Well, fair enough. It happens.
But in that moment, Vita realized something crucial.
'Wait a sec...'
She'd finally found it: proof that even this perfect guy had a weakness.
'Cooking's definitely my strong suit, huh?'
The porridge was godawful, and she had some confidence in her own skills anyway. Cooking was one of Vita Shama's few simple hobbies—plenty of times she'd followed phone videos to whip up this and that.
She was starting to feel a bit smug about it when her expression soured.
'But... is this really something to be happy about?'
Wasn't cooking seen as a woman's domain, something guys often sucked at? So, strictly speaking, had she just lost in another "manly" category?
'Damn, is that it...?'
As Vita pondered deeply, Carlyle watched her and chuckled. One moment triumphant, the next suddenly serious. At least her condition seemed much better now. She was the type who could entertain herself just fine.
Anyway.
Vita kept shoving the porridge into her mouth, bit by bit.
"You said it tastes bad."
"It really does, though?"
"Then why keep eating?"
How to explain? Vita herself wasn't entirely sure why she was doing it.
"...Just 'cause."
Simply because of his sincerity. A guy who couldn't cook had gone out of his way to make this for her.
And that wasn't all. Coming to check on her when she was sick, worrying like this.
That was when it hit her.
From that realization on, Vita's heart began to pound in flustered panic.
Thump. Thump.
This was ridiculous! Was a woman's heart just smaller than a man's, jumping like this at random?
Suddenly, pointlessly.
'What's... this...'
Vita panicked inwardly, but she had no clue why her heart was racing.
Her confusion didn't end there.
After finishing the porridge.
"You look pretty when you eat well."
"......?"
Carlyle said it casually, and as he patted her head, Vita's face flushed tomato-red.
This was... embarrassing, right?
"Am, am I your pet or something?!"
She yelled it out. Sitting there meekly eating in front of him, only to get petted like a pet. If she had to compare, it felt like being domesticated—her heart raced from the sheer humiliation.
Carlyle chuckled softly.
"Not a pet."
"Then why do you keep...!"
Why the petting, the weird comments? Every time, it made her feel so strange. Vita swallowed the rest, unable to voice it.
By late afternoon, Vita was fast asleep, and Carlyle lay beside her, holding her close.
How it happened: after the porridge.
"Lie back down, Bianca."
"Wh-what...? Why...?"
She eyed him warily.
But Carlyle's intentions were purely innocent. Sure, a tiny naughty thought flickered, but not with her sick like this.
"I won't do anything naughty."
After his persistent reassurances, Bianca Shama finally nodded suspiciously.
And what Carlyle did was lie beside her, gently rubbing her lower belly over her clothes.
"...What's this for?"
Naturally, Bianca whined a bit.
But she quieted at his next words.
"When my stomach hurt as a kid, my teacher did this."
"Teacher? Out of nowhere?"
"From the orphanage."
Orphanage, out of the blue.
'No way Carlyle Schultz...?'
Vita felt startled and oddly surprised, unsure how to respond.
"Uh, I see..."
She muttered that much, rolled her eyes around, then quickly succumbed to sleep. The porridge, her poor condition, and Carlyle's gentle belly rub—it all made drowsiness crash over her.
Now the situation was this.
"Mm..."
Occasionally, the woman in his arms unconsciously snuggled closer. An unwitting temptation. She'd let him into her home far too easily from the start.
Carlyle thought, 'Trusting me is good, but...'
She wouldn't do this with other guys, right? He believed not. And he wouldn't stand by if she did.
At the same time, Carlyle felt a faint unfamiliarity in this moment.
The room was utterly quiet. Just the two of them. Sunset light filtered through the curtains, creating a peaceful, languid atmosphere. The woman in his arms breathed softly in sleep. He was hyper-aware of her, hesitant to move lest he wake her.
But this was worlds apart from lying together after sex. No physical pleasure or afterglow—just a deep emotional fulfillment swelling inside.
Carlyle smiled faintly without realizing.
As a kid, he'd gazed at city lights from the window, feeling loneliness watching people. But not now. It felt novel.
If this was a dream, it'd be a pleasant, drowsy one.
'How'd it come to this...?'
Carlyle wondered. They hadn't known each other that long, yet here they were.
He quite liked having Bianca Shama in his arms. She felt precious. Her complete trust as she slept soundly—or even awake, just watching her was fun. Her words amusing, actions cute. Girly looks paired with a straightforward, quirky personality. And that body so temptingly sexy, yet...
'...so pure at heart.'
He'd thought it was an act at first, but Bianca Shama was genuinely innocent. That's why he'd fallen for her, hard. Ever-changing, captivating.
"Haa—"
Carlyle let out a deep sigh of contentment.
This moment satisfied him deeply. Then, he stole a kiss from her sleeping lips and murmured his true feelings in a low, settled voice.
"...I like you, Bianca."
Saying it made it real. The first honest confession in his nineteen years.
Too bad she was oblivious in sleep.
'Whatever.'
Soon, Carlyle drifted off too, lulled by the cozy vibe and unfamiliar peace.
So he never knew.
When he'd sneaked that thief's kiss earlier, Vita had actually woken up then.
[...I like you, Bianca.]
She'd heard it.
The always arrogant, laid-back Carlyle Schultz, spilling such deep, sincere emotion.
"......"
No way. Nonsense, she thought.
Sure, he'd asked her out before.
[Wanna date? With me?]
That had felt like a joke.
'But this is different...!'
She couldn't move. Luckily, she stayed undetected until he fully slept.
But still.
Thump. Thump.
Her heart pounded so wildly she feared he'd hear it. She squeezed her eyes shut.
Thankfully, Carlyle left without further incident.
"Out! Now!"
The moment she woke, she tried shooing him away. Carlyle looked baffled.
She couldn't admit hearing him, so her face burned.
"What's wrong, Bianca?"
"I wanna be alone."
After a moment's thought, he nodded.
"Got it."
She seemed much perkier now, so her condition must've improved.
"See you tomorrow, Bianca."
Refreshed from his nap, he smiled and said goodbye.
"Ugh..."
Even that flustered her a bit. She shoved him out.
Bam—door slammed shut. Then she shook her head wildly, as if to shake it off.
'Should I have said thanks anyway...?'
A twinge of conscience tugged at her. He'd come to check on her out of worry.
She cracked the door—but luckily, he was already gone.
"Haa—"
Vita sighed in relief.
But why relief? It puzzled her.
Come to think of it.
'Whether that guy likes me or not...'
What did it matter? He was off dreaming alone while she had zero interest.
'Must've been a hallucination...'
Vita pondered. Maybe she'd misheard.
Touching her face, it felt hot. Her body's off-state all day had her in all sorts of turmoil—head a total mess she couldn't put words to. In the end, she dove back into bed.
Her first period? Bewitched by woman's magic?
'Yeah, that's it. I'm not in my right mind!'
What she'd heard was just a hallucination.
She decided on that.
But really? The end?
"Uwaaah—!"
Vita kicked the blanket in frustration, messing up her hair.
That weird dream from earlier. Carlyle's nonsense.
"What the hell, that jerk—!"
What kinda bullshit was that? Why say something so weird and...
But her thoughts kept drifting back.
Carlyle Schultz? The one who thought the world revolved around him, now liking her, the gender-swapped girl?
'Well, he has no clue who I really am.'
'Poor guy. Why me, of all people...'
Vita spiraled through thoughts, landing on one conclusion.
Something's wrong. I'm the weird one.
Otherwise, why keep dwelling on it? Why did it feel like she was seeing him romantically...?
Her face flushed crimson.
Finally facing the truth, it burned.
This was bad.
'...Wait, hold on.'
But it was so absurd. Shock hit hard.
No way, for real? She was originally a guy.
And for Carlyle?
Uh, no......
...That...
No way...
..........