* * *
True love only grows stronger through trials and adversity! I’m not losing to something like this.
Honestly, I feel like I’m going to lose my mind from how fluttery I feel.
It’s so much worse than the time we hugged after that last attack.
Back then, I didn’t even realize I liked him!
But now I’m fully aware I’m in the arms of someone I like, and my senses are going crazy.
Just having our skin touch makes me dizzy and feverish.
Part of me wants to lose it and hug him back.
He’s this close—would it be that bad to kiss him?
Yeah, okay, it’d be bad. I know.
Why is Batista testing me like this?
And that “I missed you”—what was that about?
Why say “I missed you” while hugging me?
That doesn’t sound like something you say after reconciling with a friend—it sounds like something you’d say to someone you deeply connected with.
Is this friendship?
Not camaraderie, but… something closer to real love?
‘No!’
Batista doesn’t have friends!
Okay, harsh, but it’s true.
His personality, plus Gaspar, basically means he’s never had a real friend!
He probably just doesn’t get normal human boundaries!
I mean, I’m his first real companion and friend.
Maybe that’s why he’s being so affectionate.
And it’s not like I haven’t hugged fellow adventurers before.
If we pulled off an epic takedown of a powerful monster, we’d get emotional and hug too.
This is probably just that kind of thing.
He must’ve felt guilty after telling me to go off on my own and getting mad, then felt relieved after we made up, and now he’s overwhelmed with emotion.
If I interpret this “I missed you” as Batista’s way of apologizing, it all checks out.
He’s just too proud to say sorry directly.
He’s the noble “King of Adventurers,” after all—so I’ll just swallow my pride and meet him halfway.
“I missed you too…”
I tried to slip it in like a subtle apology.
Because I wanted to say it too.
Saying you missed someone after only a short time apart is kinda embarrassing if you’re just friends—but if the other guy says it first, it’s not weird to follow up!
He’d planned to use a moment like this—an opening—to quietly let some of his true feelings slip out, without getting caught.
Only then did it feel like he might be able to relieve the overwhelming emotions that had bubbled up after finally reconciling with Batista.
‘Huh? Wait, huh?’
But he couldn’t.
Because Batista, who’d just been hugging him tightly, suddenly started acting… suspicious.
The arm wrapped around his waist began to move slowly—caressingly.
Raul froze on instinct, caught off guard.
Why?
Maybe there was a reason.
He gritted his teeth and stayed still, giving Batista the benefit of the doubt.
But the wandering hand didn’t stop.
In fact, it became even more brazen.
Then suddenly, Batista stripped off his coat.
Because of the ten daggers he carried hidden beneath, Raul usually wore the coat loosely—and it slipped right off with barely any effort.
Underneath, all he had on was a thin, sleeveless shirt, picked purely for ease of movement.
It offered little resistance to anyone’s touch.
It was already tight and clingy to begin with, so when Batista’s hand brushed over it, it felt like being touched directly on bare skin.
‘Ah!’
No good!
He was seriously getting turned on.
But Raul didn’t have the guts to push Batista away.
Could it be—
‘Does he… want to do it?’
Is that why he wanted to see me?
Am I really just a literal “sex friend” to the Hero?
This is insane.
‘I’m not ready.’
The first time we had sex, I definitely wasn’t in love with Batista.
I admired him—deeply, even—but love? No.
So I told myself I was just serving him.
That was how I got through it.
Kept it mechanical. Detached.
But the second time…
Something had already started to shift.
That had to be why I became so obsessed with him calling me “Bati.”
I hadn’t fully realized how I felt back then, so I could still shove it down, pretend it was nothing.
But now?
Now it’s impossible.
I’m too aware. Too in it.
My feelings for Batista have grown into something way too big to ignore, and it scares the hell out of me.
I don’t trust myself anymore.
Not to stay cool. Not to focus just on him.
How could I possibly do that when I’m in love with the guy?
Even just him brushing my forearm sends a shock down my spine.
What if I lost control again and blurted out “Bati” in the middle of it?
Like last time?
Worse—what if I just confessed?
What then?
Drop a love bomb mid-sex?
That’d definitely ruin the mood.
God, it would be so awkward.
No. No way.
Shit!
All those thoughts slammed to a stop the moment Batista actually lifted up his shirt and slipped his hand under mine.
“Uh, uh, hey!” I blurted.
What the hell do I say?
Is there anything I can say?
Some magical phrase that’ll steer us off this track?
My brain scrambled, flailing for an excuse—anything.
Then I caught his eyes.
They were saying loud and clear, ‘Don’t kill the mood.’
Wait—
“Ah, earlier. When we ran into each other—”
I latched onto the first memory that surfaced.
“You were… writing something, right? I kept thinking about it…”
Silence.
Finally, his hand froze.
The fingers that had been tracing a slow path over my abs drew back.
Holy hell.
That was so close.
One second later and I might’ve completely fallen apart.
A long pause stretched between us.
“…That.”
“Yeah?”
I asked, trying not to sound too eager—or too relieved.
Batista stepped back.
His cheeks were flushed.
Cute.
Was he embarrassed?
What the hell was he writing?
A diary? Some secret journal? Something emotional?
Now I really wanted to know.
Maybe if I saw it, I’d get him better.
But he didn’t look ready to talk about it.
And that was okay.
I’d already done what I needed to do—dodge the tension, steer us away from whatever that was turning into.
Mission accomplished.
Sure, I was curious. But I wasn’t gonna push.
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” I said quickly.
He stayed quiet, and I worried I might’ve stepped on something sensitive.
So I gave him the biggest, brightest smile I could manage—just to show I meant it.
That I really didn’t mind.
But then Batista shook his head.
“…No.”
With the tips of his ears tinged red, and his voice barely above a whisper—
“I… want you to read it.”
He said it so quietly, it was almost inaudible.
‘Cute!!’
Did he write something for me?
Oh no.
He’s too cute.
My heart’s about to explode from the anticipation.
“I want to! Please let me!”
The first time we had sex, I definitely wasn’t in love with Batista.
He hesitated for a moment, then took my hand and led me to the inn where he was staying.
I felt a small pang of guilt for leaving Gaspar behind—but Batista was the priority now.
This time, I walked into Batista’s inn room with confidence.
It was a shabby, narrow little space—and way more littered with crumpled-up paper than I expected.
I kept kicking them by accident with every step.
What the hell was all this?
I bent down and grabbed the nearest paper ball, starting to unfold it.
“You can look,” he said behind me, “but—”
“Yeah?” I glanced at him.
“If you laugh, I’ll kill you.”
Whoa. Okay. Intense threat.
I flinched—just a little—but come on. His face was clearly flushed.
He was embarrassed.
Really embarrassed.
God, he’s so cute.
What had he written?
An apology?
Was he too shy to say it out loud?
…Now I was getting a little shy too.
* * *
