I heard his confession. My tears dripped down. I cried. I hugged him tightly, despite the pain in my arms. "Are you okay?" He asked, "I'm okay; I'm perfectly fine." I wailed, 'Why do I have to breakdown at a time like this?' He stopped walking and then found a place to sit down. He tried to put me down to see if I was okay, but I didn't want to let go, so he sat down instead. For 21 lives, I was being followed by a moron that didn't know how to confess: I could have gotten myself a boyfriend and didn't die as a virgin. I cried some more. Is this what it feels like to break down the wall of trust issues? It's kind of relaxing; I'm relieved.
My tears dripped nonstop, but they slowed down. I heard him say, "What happened?" I looked at him, then told him the truth: "I am destined to die at the age of 21." He looked at me, and I continued. "I call them 'Fate' and I listened to it. It was a feeling of surreality, knowing when you are going to die, and my brain kept telling me to follow the path. You may not believe me, but this is not my first time living. I have memories of my past. To all of them, always die until the age of 21."
"I couldn't stopped them, and i tried before it didn't end well, it was supposed to make just make me die on my own, not bothering anyone just peacefully leave but I found someone that made me want to live more, i tried to fight it off next thing i knew i was holding stacks of evidences colluding with fraud, denouncing the royal family, all illegal activities that could have me beheaded. I was in trance i couldn't fight for my life, then my mind just switched to just accepting everything, even-though i never wanted it" i knew it before originally i was not impulsive, i didn't notice them before but they were extremely prominent at my 13th life where i was at the heaps of destruction, they just like to cloud my thoughts and mixed them to my preference to make them sound like my true perception most of them are relatable but some are just deranged and doesn't feel my like my own.
I looked at him and said, "Do you believe me? I never told anyone about them, but Noelle knew a little bit." He looked at me, then questioned, "Have you been enduring them for 21 lives?" I looked at him and smiled, "Yep, like a 'terminally ill patient', eheheh." My tears drip when they just stop flowing. This response was mixed with those fate-like thoughts. He looked at me like he found familiarity with those words. He did live all those 21 lives; it would be strange if he didn't find any remembrance of them. Then he hugged me tight and said, "You did a great job; I'm proud of you." I broke down in tears again.
I woke up on the bed inside the manor. My eyes are puffed and I can barely see. Did I pass out?, I remembered what happened last night. I thought, I'm too stupid. Did I just get weak and then start having mental breakdowns? I just wanted to escape all those memories of that love confession. Then I felt movement, and then an arm wrapped around my waist. I looked behind me and saw his face. This man. So, I'm the drama; I'm the cause of every woman's tears. I chuckled and lifted my arms. I don't feel any pain anymore; it heals fast. That's really convenient.
I looked at him, then placed my body to face him. For a calm moment, I traced his face with my finger, I saw his eyes fluttered, I smiled cheekily, I faked asleep, I placed my arms on his waist and my feet on his legs, it was like sprawling on top of him, I hummed while closing my eyes, his eyes opened, I could feel one of his hands move me, I mumbled for being moved, he stopped, I could see the bright light before my closed eyes darkened, I could feel a slight pressure from my lips, I opened my eyes, seeing him kiss me with his eyes closed. He said, "Good morning, Gen."
My jaw dropped when I heard his husky voice. The sunlight hit his face at the perfect angle, and the floating particles you see in their rays just made his face look dreamy. 'Oh la la', I would vote for him for top supermodel. Such a perfect face must be banned. I looked at his attractive face with my unfunctioning brain, and I dazedly whispered "Gud mornin", He looked at me and spoke, "Sometimes I wonder why you always hang out and stay quiet whenever you see me. Do you find me attractive?" He played with my hair, curling it up with his fingers. Hearing his mumbled words, I looked at him from top to bottom. He frowned. "So, am I handsome?"
I hummed "hmm..." and then stood out of the bed. Then I looked at him again, making the rectangle with my fingers like those cameramen looking for good photos, slowly backing up. He sat by the bed and said, "What do you think?" He crossed his legs from one foot to another. My eyes widened. "Perfect! The most perfect model that a man could achieve!" I reached the door, opened it, and then ran, laughing. That thing is bulging. Why am I staying there? My face flushed red. I feel like I'm being injected with caffeine—if I answered yes, who knows what would happen?
I washed and clothed myself, seeing in the mirror another white dress. My skin color matched theirs without a problem. It's a bit bland. I'm going out and getting clothes with colors because I'm done with this look. I want to rebel. I prepared myself for breakfast because I couldn't eat anything last night. I saw him again in his formal attire going out to work. I thought before his unbalanced aura came from becoming a demon lord with his holy powers, it would cause chaos in his body. I looked at him, and he couldn't relinquish the holy powers, but the holy powers he had could barely accumulate a hero title.
The church is just unrelenting; they must have visited him regularly just to see him having them. ' They can't wait for a new hero to arrive before using them; utter garbage.' I looked at him, then suggested, "I want to stay in the church." He stopped eating and frowned, then looked at me like I was spouting nonsense. Then I said, "I'm going to stay there to keep them in check, and I have a feeling I've already found the new one—the new hero."