Chapter 50 - Wake Up, Keith

My gaze slowly descended until it was stopped by the blanket. However, I couldn’t bring myself to move my gaze further down. The thin sheet was blatantly showing all of Keith’s body. Shifting my gaze down would teach me everything about him.

Even though Keith was under the meager sheet, it couldn’t hide the tight, gracious tone of his muscles. I was afraid to even think about what would happen if I were to spot his rod—albeit an approximate shape of it over the sheet—in this situation. I was already at my limit. I couldn’t possibly bring up the courage to go that far. Barely managing to hold down my ragged breath, I clenched and unclenched my trembling hands multiple times over. I had to wake him up.

“M-Mr. Pittman…” My voice cracked, which made me stutter. Thankfully, however, Keith didn’t open his eyes at once. Feeling a sense of relief, I quickly cleared my throat and polished my voice.

Having finally calmed down my breathing, I managed to speak in a nonchalant voice like usual. “Mr. Pittman.”

Thank god. A voice no different than usual trickled into my ear. I mustered up a little more courage and reached out. Suppressing my desire to stroke his bare chest with my desperate patience, I finally placed my fingers on his arm. I carefully put down my hand. A moan almost slipped out of my mouth the moment I felt his hard muscles on my palm, but Keith was thankfully still not awake.

“Mr. Pittman,” I called his name once more and finally shook his arm. Would he realize that I had ever so gently stroked his muscle as if I were kissing it? I was taken aback by my own bold act and looked down at him in anxiety.

Keith’s long eyelashes that hadn’t been moving at all until then fluttered. I froze on the spot and watched Keith wake up from his sleep.

“…Mmh.” Keith let out a groan from deep within his throat. He tossed and turned, his brows tightly knit together. He had fallen asleep while lying down straight like a log, but he suddenly turned his body toward me. I flinched in reflex. The next moment, Keith opened his eyes.

Every time he blinked, his purple irises disappeared and reappeared. Keith blinked a few more times as if to focus his eyes. His sleepy gaze shifted onto my face.

At that moment, I was completely enchanted by him.

His dark, messy locks; his vulnerable face as he stared at me; his hazy amethyst eyes that met mine; his wide, solid shoulders; and even his firm chest.

How could anyone not fall in love with this man?

If I could hold and kiss Keith as much as I desired at that moment, I would even sell my soul to the devil.

Just then, something unbelievable happened.

“…?”

Keith suddenly lifted up his torso from the bed. He reached forward and grabbed the back of my head, pulling my face toward his.

I was taken aback by the sudden escalation and allowed myself to be pulled. Just like yesterday, our eyes locked with merely a finger’s distance apart. Unable to calm my thrashing heart, I could only stare at him with my eyes wide open.

Ah.

The sweet scent thickened. Keith was exuding his pheromones. Until now, he had only ever sprayed his pheromones on me twice: first, when he was angry, and second, when he tried to calm me down.

Then what was this?

It was different from usual. His pheromones that always pressed down on me heavily were very gently embracing us right now as if he were trying to seduce me.

‘No, it can’t be.’ Just as I denied the notion of the word, I felt Keith jolt. He blinked his eyes in belated realization. I directly witnessed his eyes crashing down to reality. It was painful.

Keith immediately pushed me away and began to curse.

“Damn it, your pheromones… No, your face, no, I mean… Jesus f*cking Christ!”

I staggered as I took a few steps back. It had been a long time since I had seen him yell in such violent anger. I vaguely remembered him being as enraged when I had first met him in the tent. Keith, unable to suppress his rage, threw his pillow. The hefty fabric mass couldn’t bear its own weight and fell from the edge of the bed onto the floor. I shifted my gaze away from the pillow—which had rolled onto the soft carpet without a sound—and turned toward Keith. He was clenching his teeth and glaring into space.

“Why are you here?” After a while, Keith asked with a slightly softened voice, seemingly having calmed down a little. Even so, his gaze was still cold. 

I replied as indifferently as I could, “Charles asked me if I could wake you up in his stead. How would you like your bacon and eggs?”

When I habitually added the question that I had prepared, Keith ruffled his hair in irritation.

“Grilled to a crisp and hard-boiled,” he stated his preference as I had already known.

I replied formally, “Understood. Would you like coffee or tea?”

“Espresso. Triple shot.” Keith spat before abruptly displacing the blanket sheet.

Before I knew it, I had flicked my head away. My heart suddenly began to madly thrash about. Not caring about my reaction at all, Keith brushed past me and walked into the bathroom.

Clack.

I was only able to fully realize that I was alone after I had heard the door. I finally let out a bitter sigh and turned around. The woman in the painting came into my sight. The beautiful goddess that was alive in the frame seemed to be mocking me, proudly tilting her chin up. I hurriedly peeled my eyes off the painting and practically ran out of the room.