Chapter 184

However, there were a fair number of wrinkles in the delicate fabric, and red blossoms had been planted here and there across the skin she was so proud of, spots that hadn’t been there before she’d stayed the night. The marks, which she could see here and there even on the places that weren’t covered by her negligee, were signs of Amane’s possessiveness and desire, and definite proof of their contact the night before. When she became aware of the marks again, she felt embarrassed, but she also felt like they showed how badly Amane wanted her, and she didn’t want to criticize him too strongly for it. She let out a frustrated, heated sigh and buried her face in Amane’s chest as he held her. Before last night, she had touched Amane only over his clothes, so she hadn’t been aware, but last night she had learned that his body was firmer and stronger than it looked. She’d touched it, experienced it. When she’d traced her hands over him, his muscles had been surprisingly firm. She could feel every little bump and dip, and his sweaty, flushed skin had exuded a strange sort of eroticism, a manliness that shocked Mahiru’s heart. That was precisely why she felt so embarrassed by the position she was currently in. But her happiness won out over her embarrassment, so she clung to him anyway. …He was a real man after all. Not that she had ever doubted that. She’d known it all along, but that aspect of him had been partially obscured by the gentlemanly way he usually behaved, and Mahiru had let her guard down. She had since learned, in body and mind, that Amane had just been desperately keeping that side of himself contained. When she thought about the fact that the hand that was currently curled around her back was the same hand that had explored her so thoroughly, her body grew strangely warm. Once she became conscious of that, overwhelmingly embarrassment and a keen compulsion to run away began to clash with her intense desire to spend this happy moment wrapped up in the arms of the person she loved. If Amane had been awake, they probably would have snuggled for a while, but for the moment, he was still asleep. Besides, the light shining in through the gap in the curtains was steadily growing stronger, so Mahiru knew she had better start her morning preparations. Although it was the weekend, her routine didn’t change much. They hadn’t done anything this time that had lasting effects, so she figured it was all right to go about her morning as per usual. After deliberating for a little longer while enveloped in the scent and the warmth of the boy she loved, Mahiru decided to quietly slip out of the gentle embrace of Amane’s arms. It was time to get dressed and make breakfast. That certainly wasn’t because she feared she would remember too much and groan with embarrassment and roll around on the bed writhing in agony—not at all. Mahiru carefully got out of bed so she wouldn’t wake Amane, and she saw that her negligee was a total mess. In hopes of getting rid of some of the wrinkles, she straightened it out the best she could without damaging the fabric as she looked around the room for a clock. Then she spotted the mound formed by the blanket on top of the desk, and she smiled a little. She put on her slippers so she wouldn’t make any noise and then approached the desk, where she uncovered the stuffed cat that had been sentenced to spend all night tucked under the blanket. The cute, innocent eyes she revealed knew nothing of the previous night’s events. She tenderly picked up the poor cat, which had had to spend the whole night without its master, and quietly she placed it beside Amane, who was sound asleep, breathing peacefully, none the wiser. It seemed like he might be confused or upset that Mahiru wasn’t there when he woke up, so she did it out of consideration. She didn’t want Amane to be lonely. Amane looked really adorable, sleeping peacefully and cuddling the cat. There wasn’t the slightest vestige of the virile expressions or the looks of unconcealable passion he had shown her the night before. He just looked like he always did. Actually, since she had seen the other side of him the night before, he looked even younger and more darling than usual. I’ll have to sneak a photo later, she thought, knowing he would politely refuse if she asked. Mahiru put one knee on the bed, lightly kissed Amane’s cheek while he was still sleeping, and she stood up. I think I’ll make breakfast. Those rolled omelets that Amane loves. She wondered if this was what it felt like to be a wife eagerly waiting for her husband to wake up. At the same time, she was embarrassed because it was still far too soon for her to think about such things. In high spirits, Mahiru left the bedroom and headed for the bathroom sink.