Chapter 40: Melkvi
With a gulp of red wine, the invincible General Lei was about to fall over.
Rosvitha didn’t want to show a disdainful expression, but how could she bear it?
She knew he had a low alcohol tolerance, but to this extent… was quite rare.
“Can’t you handle it, you idiot…”
Leon leaned on the table, cheeks flushed, gaze unfocused, clearly intoxicated.
And looking at his wine glass, there was enough left for two goldfish to swim in.
“I told you I can’t drink… but you insisted…” On the verge of passing out, he still argued with Rosvitha.
This was the will against dragons ingrained in the top dragon slayer.
“Would I pry open your mouth and pour wine in?” Rosvitha retorted calmly.
“You… you called me…”
“What did I call you?”
Leon’s face was red, he shifted his body, burying his head in his arms, and muttered, “Call me husband, then I’ll drink with you…”
At his words, Rosvitha raised her eyebrows in surprise, swaying the red wine in her cup, leisurely saying, “Tsk, you actually admitted it. It seems I’ve found the treasure in this world that can soften that mouth of yours.”
A man’s mouth was like ginseng, soaked in wine, the softer it got.
Leon still buried his head, then raised a middle finger, “I… *hic*… I’ll never drink with you again, absolutely not!”
Rosvitha smiled faintly, “Then shall I call you husband again, will you drink?”
“…I won’t drink!”
“You hesitated, Leon, deep down you want to hear me call you husband, don’t you?”
“Who… who wants to hear that?”
Leon sat up, his face flushed, and in his eyes, Rosvitha multiplied into five… six, seven, eight, but he still insisted on retorting, “Just calling me husband won’t make me listen to you, it’s impossible!”
“Oh la la, you’re so manly~ hus~band~”
“…I really feel like vomiting.”
“Hmph, idiot.”
Rosvitha giggled and glanced at him, then picked up her wine glass and took a sip.
Even with a little alcohol, it could still numb the nerves to a certain extent.
It could make people say things they wouldn’t normally say.
Of course, whether it was the numbness from alcohol or an excuse to speak the truth, no one knew.
Rosvitha looked back at Leon, propping her chin with one hand, her eyes slightly open, her silver pupils shining ambiguously like the crescent moon in the night sky.
“Did you tell grandma today that we’re deeply in love?”
“Uh.”
Leon leaned back in his chair, staring at the tiles on the balcony with lowered eyes. “Didn’t we agree on pretending to be affectionate in front of others?”
That was one reason, but not the only one.
Leon didn’t realize at the time that the old lady was Rosvitha’s grandmother; he thought she was some gossip-loving aunt who popped up from somewhere.
As she kept asking, Leon felt somewhat offended, or rather, he felt his relationship with Rosvitha was being questioned.
So he emphasized, “My wife and I are very affectionate”—and he emphasized it twice.
That was another reason.
As for whether “being questioned about the harmony of their marriage by others, so he emphasized how much he loves his wife” was what Leon truly thought in his heart…
Well, well, well, now it gets tricky.
As sharp as a queen, how could Rosvitha not hear the little schemes hidden in the dog man’s words? Especially now that he’s drunk, it’s inevitable that he’ll slip up a bit.
“Now there are no outsiders here, just the two of us.”
Rosvitha gazed at Leon, “Will you still say such things now?”
Leon replied straightforwardly, “No, why would I say anything when it’s just the two of us?”
With that said, after a few seconds, he didn’t receive a reply from Rosvitha.
Leon blinked, feeling the atmosphere was subtly tense, so he glanced sideways.
Rosvitha still propped her chin with her beautiful hand, blinking her pretty silver eyes at him.
But in those eyes, there was a hint of expectation.
Women, naturally attuned creatures, even if the sweet words are false, they’re willing to listen with their hearts. Besides, some sweet words might not be false at all.
Leon and Rosvitha locked eyes, neither of them looking away.
After a while, it seemed like something touched Leon’s heart. Perhaps it was the effect of alcohol, or maybe his true feelings surfaced a bit thanks to the excuse of alcohol.
He opened his mouth, without making any sound, yet he could already see Rosvitha’s eyes filled with even more anticipation, even a hint of joy.
“I… I like…”
The pronunciation of the last word should be ‘you’.
But it was too indistinct, as if passing by.
Although Rosvitha could understand these four words, it wasn’t what she wanted to hear.
And with the courage fueled by alcohol, after Leon finished speaking, he immediately shut down, lowering his head and avoiding eye contact with Rosvitha. Because if he kept looking at her… he would see things he shouldn’t, and he would say things he shouldn’t.
It was just an ordinary night, he had just taken that one sip of wine…
How did he end up disarming himself so carelessly?
He felt regretful.
Regretful that he blurted out something he felt was important in such an unprepared situation.
Annoyed that he didn’t clarify.
Yes, Leon knew.
When he said the last word, he hesitated, he didn’t dare to say it openly.
It’s like when the teacher calls on you to stand up and answer a question, but you were daydreaming, thinking about how to make the girl you like smile after class. You panic, looking at the teacher, then at the girl sitting in the front row, feeling even more flustered.
The teacher’s question wasn’t difficult, and you could have answered it perfectly, because that smart and lovely girl, who had mutual feelings for you, had tutored you on similar questions before.
It was a beautiful recess, a ten-minute moment you could never forget in your life.
In those ten minutes, you smelled the girl’s fragrance and found the answer to that question.
You promised the girl that you would never forget that question, that whenever you encountered it again, you would be able to answer it.
The girl didn’t say anything, just smiled at you.
But now, in this moment, those answers in your mouth were like a broken symphony, becoming more incomprehensible as it went on.
In the end, the disastrous answer earned nothing but a standing detention from the teacher.
And it was the hint of disappointment in the girl’s eyes when she withdrew her gaze.
How could you make it up?
There was no way to make it up.
After class, how could you even have the nerve to go and tell the girl the joke you had prepared for two lessons?
And Leon’s few words were simpler than any answer to a question.
Yet he still didn’t do it right.
Slaying dragons, taking his daughter out, investigating clues, exposing the conspiracies of the powerful… None of these things he was good at helped him at this moment.
Now, Leon’s only comfort was that by tomorrow, Rosvitha would probably forget about this incident.
Or pretend to forget.
Forget everything.
It was all just drunken rambling.
The unfinished “I like,” the last word wasn’t important at all… right?
“Leon.”
When he snapped out of it, he caught the familiar and pleasant scent.
There was weight on his thighs.
It was Rosvitha.
She sat on Leon’s lap, one arm around his neck, the other holding a wine glass.
She took a sip in front of Leon, but didn’t finish it. Instead, she held the glass to Leon’s lips.
The rim facing one side of Leon, clear and transparent; and on the opposite side, facing Rosvitha, there was a faint lipstick mark left by her.
He pursed his lips, gently grasped Rosvitha’s hand, and then slowly turned the wine glass she held about halfway.
He aligned the lipstick-marked rim with his own lips.
Then, leaning forward, he downed the remaining red wine in one gulp.
The scent of wine mixed with her lip balm was intoxicating.
Rosvitha set the glass aside, then wrapped both arms around Leon’s neck.
She leaned in, delicately rubbing her nose against his skin.
The warm breath he exhaled lightly sprayed onto her face.
He was so nervous, his heartbeat racing.
Rosvitha toyed with Leon’s hot earlobes with her thumb, their foreheads touching as she whispered softly,
“I didn’t catch what you said just now. Now that we’re closer, say it again.”
The girl gave you a chance, you could still make her smile.
Leon lifted his gaze, meeting those warm, soft lips,
“Melkvi, I like you.”
Under the starry night and the chirping of cicadas, accompanied by red wine.
Who wouldn’t want to take advantage of the excuse of drinking to speak their heart out?
i think author’s dark past was spilling out there with the monologues lmao
anyway sweet chapter, the dam has finally opened!
Leon FINALLY admitted it.
They are soooo cute.