I Don’t Want the Obsession of a Twisted Archduke

Chapter 17 – Why I Can’t Kill Her? (2)

“Ahh…”

I yawned as I opened my eyes and stretched to relieve the feelings of exhaustion from my body. My gaze languidly wandered over to the window, where I saw the sky glowing dull red typical of before dawn. As I stretched, I noticed my feet felt numb. Did I sleep in the wrong position?

I hate that.

With half-opened eyes, I put my index finger to my mouth and then gently touched it to my nose. This was just an unconscious habit that I normally did.

“What are you doing right now?”

My body stiffened at the sound of a low, unexpected voice interrupting my thoughts, then I remembered that Kyle had slept beside me last night. I stared at the source of the sound, but I became confused at his location. Why was he sitting on the sofa?

“Archduke, why are you on the sofa? Don’t tell me that you moved there in the middle of the night?”

“…”

Seeing as how Kyle couldn’t give me an answer, I knew that he indeed moved off the bed after I had fallen asleep last night.

“Why did you sleep there when you already decided to sleep beside me last night?!”

“I was just getting ready to go out.”

I knew that he was lying. Did he really think that I would be fooled by that kind of excuse? It was then that I noticed Kyle was wearing a bathrobe. His hair was still wet, and the droplets were sliding haphazardly onto the floor. Seeing him sitting there carelessly dripping water everywhere was unpleasant.

“Your hair… No, where’s the towel?”

Kyle just stared silently at me with a face that asked why I needed a towel. It would have been a waste of time for me to explain why he couldn’t just sit there soaking wet, so I got up from the bed and searched for it myself. As the numbness in my legs quickly subsided, I strode to Kyle and picked up a towel lying nearby on the sofa. Afterward, I leaned down and put the towel on Kyle’s head.

“What are you doing?”

“You’ll catch a cold if your hair stays soaked like this.”

“I’m fine.”

“You can stop me from doing this, but do you want to catch a cold?”

“I said, I’m fi… what are you doing?”

I could sense Kyle growing angry and his tone becoming irate as I started to dry his hair, but I replied with indifference.

“I told you that you can stop me, but so far you haven’t. That’s why I’ll keep drying your hair. Relax, I will not touch you.”

After spending the past few days with Kyle, I came to realize that I needed to just do whatever action needed to be done rather than try to use my words and end up fighting with him.

It’s useless if I argue with him.

I continued before Kyle could get the opportunity to disagree with me.

“So, if you didn’t want to accidentally touch me and cause me to freeze over, just stay still.”

Of course, I was just exaggerating the consequences. A brief touch wouldn’t make me freeze. I would probably just feel a little cold. Oh, and I couldn’t forget to add this point.

“By the way, people say that hair is made of dead cells anyway, so it’s OK for me to touch it. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Who says I’m worried about you?”

“Please don’t move too much if you don’t want to touch me.”

“Whatever.”

I was waiting for that word. “Whatever” usually indicated that Kyle would stop refuting my words and calmly let me do as I pleased.

Huh, he’s finally settled down.

I gently toweled off the rest of the water from his hair.

By the way, I think what I said is true.

Even after touching his hair, I was fine. The fact that hair is just dead cells had just flashed across my mind and I offhandedly mentioned it, but I didn’t think it would really work. Fortunately, the towel was big enough to cover most of his head, so it was easy for me to dry his hair without touching it for the most part. I still didn’t want to risk my hand freezing over if I stroked his hair for too long. The room fell quiet as I massaged his scalp with the towel. Unexpectedly, Kyle was the first to break the silence.

“It tickles.”

“Just endure it for a while. I’m just making sure the water won’t drip from your hair again.”

“Your hair is tickling me.”

Hmm? Was it because I was leaning over him?

“Should I change my position?”

“No.”

“But you said it tickles.”

“It’ll be troublesome if you change your position. Just keep doing what you are now.”

Well, if my hair was bothering him but he didn’t want me to move, then what was I supposed to do? Sometimes it was really difficult to understand what he was thinking. We fell silent again, and I was almost finished drying his hair. I had been at it since I woke up, and dawn was now over the horizon—but that was fine with me. I didn’t want him to catch a cold. In actuality, there was another reason why I kept at it: Kyle’s hair was so smooth and impossibly shiny that I felt compelled to keep touching his silken locks.

That’s why I’ll tolerate it.

“But what did you do before?” Kyle was again the first to speak.

“Yes?” I blinked. “What are you talking about?”

“As soon as you woke up, you put saliva on your nose.”

Ah, he saw that. I felt a little embarrassed.

“Oh, that’s because there’s a saying that if you lick your finger and touch it to your nose when your legs are numb, then they’ll be healed. It’s kind of like a myth.”

That’s what my mother, my original mother from my previous life, had taught me when I was younger.

I miss my mom.

“A myth? Do you really believe that?”

“Rather than do it because I believe in the myth, I just do it because it’s become a thing that I usually do—like a manifestation that I’ll feel better if I do so. I’ve been doing it ever since I was young, also, so it’s a habit now.”

“…”

I tried to continue the conversation since it would have been awkward if we left it at that and nothing else was said.

“Besides that, there’s something else I used to do.”

“Something else?”

“There’s another myth that says you can also use saliva to heal your wounds. I do that often, too.”

“Using saliva?”

“Yes, just simply put it to your wound.”

Kyle became silent when he heard my answer. I didn’t know if it was because his curiosity was satisfied or if his mood had grown worse, but it felt nice to be victorious over him in this conversation.

Hmm, I think it’s fine now. His hair seems dry enough.

Satisfied, I withdrew my hands. He flinched at the loss of contact and shrugged his shoulders.

“It’s done.”

“…”

“Please at least dry your hair to this extent later, OK?”

“…”

“Answer me.”

“Let me think first.”

It was obvious to me that he would not give me the response I wanted to hear. In a flash of anger, I threw the towel aside onto the sofa.

Now I can clearly see Kyle’s face.

He was gently looking up at me. Maybe it was because it hadn’t been long since his bath, but his eyes looked moist. I reflexively jumped back at the odd feeling in my chest.

“It’s still dawn,” I said hurriedly, “so I’m going to rest a little bit more. What about you, Archduke? Do you want to sleep more?”

“No, I’m going to my office,” he refused adamantly.

“Have you hidden a honey jar in your office?” I teased.

“…”

The Archduke regarded me with a strange look.

He doesn’t even know how to joke.

Perhaps the red coloration was due to the early dawn rays filtering in through the window, but I could see the persistence in his eyes.

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