* * *

Knowing Vicente, he might at least try.

Good thing I woke up.

I placed a light kiss on his bare chest, and he grabbed my shoulder.

His grip was slightly trembling.

What’s this? He’s acting all shy?

‘If he doesn’t like it, he’ll tell me.’

For now, I decided to keep going.

Partly as thanks, but also because it benefited me.

Last time, I’d nearly embarrassed myself by getting hard while sleeping in the hero’s arms.

This would solve that problem.

It had to.

I traced my fingers along the firm lines of his abs, feeling the tension ripple under my touch.

His grip on my shoulders tightened.

Okay… that hurts a little.

I knew Vicente was strong, but this strong?

A small groan escaped me.

Why is he acting so unfamiliar?

Usually, he’d be moaning and begging for more.

‘Acting unfamiliar…’

No. No way.

I refused to open my eyes.

This couldn’t be Vicente.

But then… who was it?

The answer came to mind, but I pushed it into the abyss.

It couldn’t be. It shouldn’t be.

And yet, I couldn’t keep my eyes shut forever.

Especially not when reality was quite literally embracing me.

“…Raul.”

Ah.

For the first time since I turned back time, the hero called my name.

And this was how it happened.

My eyes flew open.

The hero lay beneath me.

‘Oh, crap.’

With my shirt half undone, his bare chest was fully exposed—a chest that looked even larger without the armor that usually pressed it down.

No, now’s not the time to admire him!

It wasn’t because I was flustered—I was absolutely furious!

Still, I immediately got down from the bed, dropped to my knees, and said:

“I was wrong.”

Why the hero had come to my house, why he was hugging me—those questions could wait.

Pointing out that he was the one who barged in first and trying to use that as leverage would be pointless, especially since I was clearly the one at a disadvantage here.

Besides, the fact that the hero came all this way to see me after calming down was something I should be crying tears of joy over.

Was I really going to claim this was breaking and entering?

The hero sat up and looked down at me.

Ah, why does his chest have to move like that when he moves…?

Has this guy lost his mind?

Stop it already!

I shut my eyes tightly.

“I was wrong.”

I mean, I figured there wasn’t much else I could say, but did he really have to let me experience it like this?

Why does my life keep going in such weird directions?

Couldn’t we have had a simpler reconciliation where the hero just showed up while I was eating a sandwich?

Was that too boring?

Is the universe messing with me?

Damn it, maybe it is.

Look, I know cutting in line was wrong, okay?

I’m trying my best here.

Can’t we move on already?

Is that too shameless to ask?

No, seriously?

“Get up.”

I really don’t think I should get up, though.

“No, sir…”

I declined with what little conscience I had left.

I deserved to stay kneeling a little longer.

The hero had come all this way to meet me after cooling his anger, yet here I was, not moved by his generosity but distracted by his broad heart—no, chest.

Damn it.

Anyway, I was shamelessly ogling.

“Why the formal speech?”

“Because I’m a sinner…”

Kneeling made my ankle throb, reminding me of the injury I’d forgotten in the midst of all this chaos.

It hurt more than I thought, but I gritted my teeth and endured it.

After all, I just refused to stand up a moment ago.

Sitting down comfortably now would make me look incredibly brazen.

The hero glared down at me.

His gaze was so sharp it made me squirm.

Ever since I went back in time, nothing seemed to go right.

I couldn’t tell if it was because I’d stolen the hero’s chance or if it was just my own incompetence.

“Shut up and get up.”

“Yes, sir.”

Well, if he says so… But as I put weight on my aching ankle and stood up suddenly, a sharp pain shot through me.

My balance faltered, and I stumbled right into the hero’s chest.

I fell, burying my face in his chest again.

Despite the suddenness of it all, the hero’s firm, muscular chest cushioned me so well that it didn’t hurt at all.

On the contrary, it was soft enough to make me want to stay there a little longer…

What the hell am I even thinking right now?!

I tried to kneel again, but the hero stopped me.

Was that wrong too?

“I really… I really didn’t mean to! But I was wrong, no matter the intention.”

If kneeling isn’t allowed, should I offer my neck instead?

But dying would make this whole going-back-in-time thing pointless!

Still, since the hero told me not to kneel, I awkwardly perched on the edge of the bed.

The fact that I’d not only stripped off the hero’s shirt but also ended up pressing my face against his bare chest was making my head spin with shame.

I shut my eyes tightly and waited for the hero’s judgment.

I was ready to do anything for atonement—as long as it didn’t involve dying.

“If you spare my life, I’ll do anything…”

The hero raised an eyebrow.

“Enough.”

What… what does he mean by “enough”?

Does he not even want to hear my voice anymore?

Is he telling me to shut up?

Or… stop breathing?

No, calm down.

I know.

If the hero really hated me, he could’ve killed me long ago.

He could’ve drawn his sword to threaten me or stormed out without another word.

The fact that he’s still here next to me means he’s not that angry.

It’s almost miraculous.

Still, does “enough” mean I should shut up?

Or does he mean I should stop using formal speech since he asked why I was using it earlier?

But if I stay silent, I can’t apologize anymore.

Even though I’ve been apologizing nonstop, the hero hasn’t once said it was okay.

Of course, it’s not okay—but still, someone who’s in the wrong should keep their head down and apologize until they get a reaction.

Cautiously, I opened my mouth again.

“But I need to apologize—”

“I said, that’s enough.”

Oh, the apology.

The apology?

“Why?”

I blurted it out, genuinely surprised.

The hero was definitely angry with me.

That’s not up for debate.

He’d called me “the worst” and “disgusting,” and anyone would think the same after hearing that.

That’s why I thought I’d ruined my relationship with him completely.

I’d been so despairing that I locked myself in my room instead of trying to figure out how to fix this mess.

Just the thought of being hated by the hero left me too drained to do anything.

But miraculously, the hero came to see me.

I don’t know why he decided to, but I was deeply grateful.

…And I mistook him for Vicente?

And because I wanted to thank the person who helped me, I ended up stripping him and touching him?

Normally, when someone’s angry and you go so far as to tease them, would they really forgive you?

Not even a god of mercy could make that choice…

No matter how I look at it, I need to apologize.

But since the hero told me to stop, I cautiously tested the waters.

* * *