Chapter 186 - Women Are Scary
He lost control of his master plan, and the cat suddenly shrieked, leaping onto a solid bookshelf.
Once sure that Luna wasn't going to fall because of him, Vern turned around. He was ready to hurl insults at whoever it was for scaring the shit out of him. "Where did you—"
"Pfft. haha…," A hand on her mouth, the white-haired girl opposite to him giggled, and with each little laugh, her whole body shook.
"No, wait," he panicked. When did she get here? "Listen to me, Irene. I—"
But this only exacerbated the issue as she broke out into full laughter. Her white hair—as tall as herself—tossed and turned as she dropped her head back and let loose.
"Hahhaha!"
Vern's face heated up, and he tried to explain himself. "I was just playing with Luna!"
"Hahahha, Vern, you were what? Hahha…" her voice came out between choked laughter, and she held onto her stomach as if she'd discovered the very fundamental of comedy or something.
Vern raised his finger to try and argue, but his mind chose this moment to remind him of all the silly gestures he'd mimed to get the cat going.
He lost his train of thought instantly, and before he knew it, her infectious laughter spread over him. "Pfft," He tried to keep it down, but it wasn't working as well as he'd hoped.
Her eyes upturned into crescent moons as she rested her hand on her chest to help her breathe between the giggles, walking over to the railing for support.
Both their figures basked in the blue light of the archive's chandelier as her soft laugh echoed in the whole building while the self-proclaimed cat-sitter implemented one failed measure after another to stop her.
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"Meowwww!" yowled Luna loudly as she jumped down on the railing in between both of them.
Irene slowed down, wiping at her eyes as she gave Vern a look that overflowed with second-hand embarrassment.
Vern shifted his eyes away, his cheeks red as he focused on Luna instead. The white fat cat gripped onto the railing tightly and shook its body ferociously, shedding some of that fluffy white fur.
She took deep, heavy breaths, lolling its tiny tongue out as a confused yet satisfied expression hung on her adorable face. She looked down at both of them like the mortals they were before licking her fur clean.
Irene coughed lightly before pulling out a brush from the satchel hanging on her waist. Not caring about her pure white dress, she drew a little blue puddle on her sleeve.
She extended it towards Luna, and the kitten dipped her face right into it, greedily drinking from the…picture? No. No, that was real water.
*Creation fundamental?* He wondered, only to forget about that and find himself staring wordlessly into her eyes. A smirk adorned her lips as she stroked Luna's fur with her other hand.
Once done drinking, the cat waved her paws at Irene, clearly asking to be held. Before Irene could comply, though, Vern sneaked his hand in.
Pet. Pet. Pet.
The cat turned towards him with sharp eyes, but unlike the last time, it didn't protest and just ignored him before climbing into Irene's embrace who cradled the furball into her bosom.
Progress! He cheered internally.
Gently stroking Luna's fur, Irene, whose lips still twitched, asked, "Vern."
He stared far into the distance, not meeting her eyes.
"Vern. Do you want to talk about what just happened?"
"Not sure what you mean. A cat was flying, and I was watching it all in awe like the landlubber I am. Nothing to see here."
"Pfft," she giggled before nodding "I see, I see. So you had no hand whatsoever in any of what went down here?"
Vern shook his head vehemently in faux offense, "Not at all. You think I'd lie?"
"I see, I see. So you didn't just go round and round in circle thirteen times followed by jumping in tow with little Luna here only to then suddenly stop and wave your hands around like some charlatan?"
Vern shrugged, trying his hardest not to let his expression falter, "Couldn't be me. Must've been the wind."
"I see, I see." Then, she turned her gaze down and spoke while scratching the cat's neck, "Are you listening to this, Luna? He says that you're actually a devil who spawned wings and wanted to end humanity. Should we believe him?"
"Mewow…"
His facial muscles twitched, but he knew there was no coming out of this unscathed. So he leaned into ignorance, "Right, right. I'm a man of class. Why would I ever do such a thing?"
Irene looked up and gave him a look that screamed, 'Really?' followed by a deep sigh.
"Anyways, tell me, Mr. man of class, what brings you to this ghosted library?" she asked before muttering, "…dunno why no one wants to read nowadays…"
Vern grasped onto this change of topic as if his life depended on it and answered while staring her dead in the eye, "I want to ask you something very important."
She didn't answer him right away.
Instead, her face flushed, and her cheeks took on a rosy tint as she stammered, "Vern…no."
She broke off the eye contact and looked down before adding in a whisper, "I don't think it's a good idea. We shouldn't. Not when everything is so uncertain."
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What? He shook his head to make sure he wasn't hearing things.
Wait, what?
What was this response? How did this happen? Why was the atmosphere suddenly more tense? Why—
His brain lost the thread of reality for an instant before he came to.
Wh—what the fuck?
Did she misinterpret my words as a preamble to some kind of proposal?
That can't be right.
Right?
He opened his mouth to say something but didn't know where to even begin.
And for some reason, Irene was perfectly happy to stop talking after that and let the silence between them stretch for eternity.
Shit. Shit. Shit. He panicked. How was he supposed to solve this? Just point it out? Would that not be rude when she was being so…gentle about it?
Maybe de-escalate?
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Yeah. Let's take a step back and try to explain—
Yet, in that moment, he noticed it. A subtle twitch of her ruby lips alongside a mischievous smile which peeked through her downturned face.
Vern was speechless once again.
Women are fucking scary! he screamed internally. Lady-above, he'd almost made a gigantic fool out of himself. He could already imagine her getting a massive kick out of having tricked him and then rubbing it in his face for the rest of eternity.
He narrowed his eyes, This won't go unpunished. With a grim determination, he vowed, If I don't make you question your life like I did a moment ago, then my name isn't Vern Lockwood.
He took a deep breath and approached her with slow, deliberate steps. She instantly masked any playfulness on her face, turning shy and confused once again.
When he got close enough, she tried to take a step back, but the railing denied her the chance. So, she looked back up, her eyes deep like a lake.
Even though he knew this was a sham, his heart rate sped up, and he couldn't help but consider backing out. A thought which he crushed instantly by reminding himself of how she would mock him to death.
"…Vern?" she uttered, unsure, as she tilted her neck higher and higher to match his gaze.
In another few seconds, her fragrance filled his senses—a mix of lavender perfume and oil colors.
Planting his right hand on the railing behind her, he advanced just a little further until Luna was the only thing between them.
While he didn't know how to express adoration, he could channel the next best he had—admiration.
If nothing, he could appreciate beauty. His eyes grew passionate as he looked down into hers. His hair hung down to block his vision, but they were nowhere near enough to overshadow her overflowing charm.
Sharp yet soft eyebrows that complemented her wit. Long eyelashes that made her seem ethereal, a thin, small nose that hinted at a regal bearing, and finally, those red-painted lips that attracted all attention to themselves.
She was like a manifestation of her very perspective itself—a painting. One that was too beautiful to replicate.
He'd never noticed so much of her.
What he planned beyond this came more naturally now that he was at this stage.
Lifting his other hand, he gently brushed it against her lustrous silver hair, which she'd decided to wear fully today. Not short, not bound in a ponytail, but rather left open to the elements in their full glory.
She shivered at his continued touch against her locks, and he finally spoke in a whisper of his own, "Would you really push me away for that? Is this all I mean to you?"
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Irene stared back—wordlessly, her face flush as she breathed rapidly.
She opened her mouth to say something but closed it without a sound a couple of times.
Vern's heart raced uncontrollably, but he kept up the act.
After a bit, Irene clutched at her apron's hem tightly before breaking the eye contact.
Vern grew perplexed when she—
"Gods, Vern," she began, only to hoist the sleepy Luna above her head in between both of them before adding, "Why are you such a good actor?"
Suddenly, she cried, "Ahhhh, LUNA! Scratch him!" Using this as a distraction, she escaped from under him, her hair brushing against his outstretched hand.
The cat, which had melted into slimy shapes due to its sleepiness, blinked rapidly before waving its paws toward Vern with no power behind them.
Vern couldn't help but back away to avoid being hit by those slow but sharp claws as his heart rate came crashing down.
Luna's paws still hit him when Irene continued to shove the cat into his face, but he tactically retreated further, sporting a shit-eating grin.
"Pft…hahaHah," He burst out into laughter, a heavy dose of condescension suffused in it.
Irene looked back at him with a pout and pointed before shouting, "You're no fun! Stop being a smart-ass, and lose sometimes."
Vern opened his arms wide and shrugged, "Hey, it's your own fault for creating a trap that could easily backfire. Maybe you should take lessons from me."
Even her nose turned red as she fumed. Ignoring everything he said to rile her up, she asked with a deadpan expression, "What did you want to ask?"
Vern suddenly turned super serious and extended his arm towards her before speaking dramatically with hope in his eyes, "I only had one question, milady. But you've denied me. Am I really not fit to be your consort?"
Her face flushed one more time, and she launched the devastating beast towards him, who executed a paw massage right on his face.
His low laughter echoed non-stop, and she asked once more, "Just tell me! Why did you come hereee???"
"Ah, how cruel of you to ignore my pleas, milady. Dost thou not hear mine pain? My—"
"Vern, stop teasing me!"
"But you started it first."
"Well, I am your senior! I'm older than you, too! You don't get to have the same rights as me."
"Hark! That's a violation! Discrimination! Oppression! I just wished to confess—"
"Vern, please…" she interjected as she lowered Luna and pleaded.
It seemed sincere.
He closed his eyes and let out one final chuckle before answering seriously, "I just wanted to ask about my work schedule and see if it was possible for me to have open afternoons for the next week."
After all, he still hadn't gotten around to the tasks in all the letters he'd received recently. While they weren't a top priority by any means, he wasn't one to pass up a chance to make connections with people of importance if he could help it.
Irene cuddled Luna back in her arms and replied with a thoughtful expression, "Hm, how about I do you one better?"
"Ohh? What do you mean?"
"Right now, you're assigned missions based on when we have a captain available to babysit you all."
Vern nodded.
"But given that you're going around killing a host of first to third-shade Shepherds all by yourself, I don't think you need any captain to defend you. At least not for the simpler missions."
Vern suddenly blurted out, "Wait, why do you know that?"
Irene smirked and shrugged, "I am important."
"But even Lady Selena or Captain Shinsei didn't know about it."
A soft smile played on her lips, and she didn't say anything.
Vern wanted to ask more but quickly stopped himself from meddling unnecessarily. He'd already pushed his luck more than enough today. He didn't want to actually turn her away.
"So, yeah, I can ensure most of your missions aren't dependent on captains. There might still be cases where you have to cooperate with others, but it shouldn't be a common theme."
"That actually sounds too good to be true," he narrowed his eyes in suspicion, "Would you really do that for me?"
She walked past him towards the stairs and said softly, "Only if you keep our jokes between us."
Her footfalls descending the stairs echoed in his ears, and he replied, just loud enough for her to hear, "I wouldn’t have shared either way."
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"Goodnight, Vern," she said, turning towards him one final time before exiting the archive.
"Goodnight, Irene."
Once the whole hall went back to being entirely ghosted another time, he let out a breath he didn't know he was holding as he sagged against the railing.
"Fuck. That was too much for my poor heart."
He stood there for a dozen minutes in silence as he pondered the mysteries that were women before arriving at one conclusion, "I should go and train."
Some sweat and soreness would go a long way in increasing his heart's endurance.
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The wall clock in his hotel room displayed half past midnight when he finally came back after what was clearly a tiring day. Mentally and Physically.
However, he didn't even bother changing his outfit as he settled down on his chair and opened the notepad.
Grabbing the pen, he wrote, 'I would like to be transported to the Nexus.'