Villainess Level 99: I May Be the Hidden Boss but I'm Not the Demon Lord Act 2 by Satori Tanabata

Author:Satori Tanabata [TANABATA, SATORI]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: J-Novel Club
Published: 2023-09-11T00:00:00+00:00

“So, what’s in that box?” I asked Patrick. “Is it snacks? A box of treats?”

“This is...”

“That’s so unfair! You were going to eat it by yourself, weren’t you?”

“Ugh, I’m just going to give up on this for today...”

Patrick pulled his arm back, as if to put the box away.

It only makes me more curious when you try and hide it like that! I reached out, trying to snatch the box out of Patrick’s hand, but found that my arm had gone in a different direction that I’d originally anticipated. Since when can Patrick create an afterimage of himself...? I wondered.

“Hey, where did—?”

“That’s enough alcohol, I think. Do you need water?”

My whole face scrunched up in resentment. “How dare you! You’re even going to take alcohol away from me?! Do you really hate me that much?!”

“Of course I don’t hate you,” Patrick said with a sigh, seeming deeply weary. “In fact, I like you.”

Heh heh heh, he said he likes me. I like you too, Patrick.

“How much do you like me then?” I demanded. “How big is your love?”

Patrick scrubbed his hand over his face. “You’ve gone past being cute and are just annoying now.”

H-He thinks I’m annoying? My eyes went watery out of nowhere, tear droplets spilling down into my wine glass.

“Do you...hate me?”

“I like you, Yumiella,” Patrick said, sighing again. “I like you, so please stop crying.”

“I-I’m such a troublesome woman, though... And the ones who say that are the worst of all, aren’t they?”

“I think your questions are more troublesome than you,” Patrick said softly, reaching out to caress my hand with his.

I turned my hand over and held his back, wanting to feel more of his warmth.

“You know,” Patrick continued, “it doesn’t need to be at this level of intensity, but it would be nice if you were more honest with your feelings on a regular basis.”

“But I’m acting the same as usual, though,” I said, confused. “Is something off?”

There was a short pause. Instead of answering my question, Patrick asked, “How do you feel about me?”

“I love you,” I said plainly.

Why would he ask me something so obvious? It’s not like I feel any different about him tonight than I normally do.

Patrick raised his empty hand to his face, shielding it from me. “I’d like it if you could tell me that when you’re sober.”

“Sure...” I said with a shrug. “Anyway, isn’t it kind of painfully self-conscious of you to ask how I feel about you? How embarrassing... I like you, though, so it’s fine.”

“You sure did a one-eighty there...”

I went to pour myself another glass of wine, but Patrick had already caught the one hand I’d had free in his. I briefly considered insisting on drinking more, but quickly decided against it—holding hands with Patrick was much better. There was no doubt in my mind that it wasn’t the alcohol making me have an unbelievably fun time—it was the fact that I was with Patrick.

And so, we gazed at each other as time passed us by.

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