The Transmigrated Author

Chapter 172: The Slightest Feeling

[Paris, Champs-Élysées - Dawn's Blade Arena, 10th Floor: The Infirmary Room]

"You..." Valencia stuttered, her voice barely a whisper.

Rel's head snapped up.

Confusion spread across his face, his eyes searching hers for a clue.

"...!"

She met his eyes for a moment, then quickly averted her eyes.

A blush crept up her neck as thoughts flooded her mind.

My mind's gone blank! What should I say to him?

The words she'd wanted to speak – words of gratitude, perhaps even apology – evaporated in the sudden awkwardness of the moment.

"..."

Silence hung heavy in the air.

Rel shifted uncomfortably, the quiet intensity of Valencia's presence was completely different from her usual aloofness.

haah...

Finally, he sighed and pushed himself up from his seat.

"I told Jan and Bazz that you had to leave early – came down with a sudden fever,"

He said, his eyes fixed on the hospital window.

"The doctor advised you to rest up for a bit."

He retrieved his coat from the foot of her bed.

Then, in a softer tone, he added, "Hey..."

"Y-Yes?" Valencia's voice was barely a whisper.

"I...uh..." Rel hesitated, his gaze still fixed on the city skyline.

"I could tell you were upset with me. So, I wanted to apologize for stepping in without warning back there."

Rel continued, "Don't worry, I'll... forget everything that happened."

Valencia's heart leapt to her throat.

She watched him slowly slip on his coat, ready to leave.

This couldn't be the end.

A memory flashed before Valencia's eyes.

One that made her remember, who had saved her.

Not just once, but twice.

Before she could process the thought, her body moved and her hand reached out to grip Rel's arm.

"Wait," she pleaded, her voice trembling slightly. "Don't...don't turn around."

Her face burned with embarrassment, but she couldn't let him leave without saying something.

He stood still, his muscles tensed under her grip.

"Th-thank you..." she stuttered, her voice a mere whisper.

"Thank you, Rel... thank you so much... I don't know what would have happened... if you weren't there."

Her forehead pressed against his back, his warmth a comforting anchor against the chaos of her thoughts.

"...It's okay. Uh... I guess I'll go now."

Rel tried to move, but Valencia's grip tightened.

For a few moments, she clung to him, revelling in the unexpected comfort of his presence.

Then, as if suddenly burned, she released him, her eyes wide with alarm.

"Um!"

Rel didn't turn around, but his shoulders slumped as if relieved.

He opened the door and paused, offering a simple goodbye.

"Cya, Valencia."

With that, he was gone.

Valencia stood frozen, mortification blooming within her. A strangled scream ripped from her throat.

"Ahhh! Why did I do that?!"

***

{Rel's POV}

[Paris, Champs-Élysées - Dawn's Blade Arena, Outside]

BZZZZZT...BZZZZZ!

[You've got a message from the app: Whatsapp]

[J.Ates <1:21 PM> Rel, me and Bazz are waiting outside at the bridge!]

[J.Ates <1:22 PM> Can't wait for you to tell us what happened man ( ≖‿ ≖ )]

I sighed. Damn it... He'd gotten the wrong idea again.

Maybe I should just stop feeding this guy's fantasies and stick to vague answers from now on.

Haah...

She turned away and I could see a faint blush colouring her cheeks.

Man, that cold must be getting to her.

Jan slid closer, his shoulder bumping against mine. "Dude," he whispered, his hot breath tickling my ear,

"What did you do to her?"

I flinched slightly as he came close.

sniff...sniff...

But then, I heard it – the sound of Jan sniffing my coat. My life is over.

"Oh my god..."

Jan was oblivious, his eyes shining with excitement and self-satisfaction.

"I see it all now!"

He declared, snapping his fingers and pointing at me like a proud parent.

"You've got this, Rel."

wink!

A muscle twitched in my jaw.

The urge to punch Jan was strong, but the annoying bastard was probably fast enough to dodge it.

...

...

...

The rest of the day passed by so quickly, we took visits to souvenir shops and Parisian cafes.

Jan and Bazz basically argued about every little thing—from which beret looked best to whether French fries were actually French (they're not, but try telling Bazz that).

I ended up zoning out for most of the day, letting their bickering become white noise.

Knowing Bazz, he'd probably end up on the receiving end of one of Jan's signature beatdowns later.

Valencia, though... she was quiet after what happened.

Even with Jan, it was strange. Not a single word passed between them the entire time.

But then, out of the blue, she suggested dinner at a restaurant.

It was called Le Clarence, a fancy place way out of my budget.

Jan looked surprised, almost like he was trying to hide something.

But hey, free food is free food. We followed her lead, because... well, why not?

...

...

...

[Paris, Le Clarenence]

[Saturday, 6:45 PM]

The waiter laid out a feast before us: blue lobster, and shimmering mounds of caviar, all on silver platters that gleamed under the restaurant's soft lighting.

But the centrepiece of it all was the massive Wagyu steak drizzled with bordelaise sauce.

"Are you sure we can eat all of this?"

Jan's eyes wide excitement and worry, nudged Valencia.

Valencia offered a slight nod as her expression remained carefully blank.

"Don't mind if I do!" Bazz licked his lips, already tucking into the lobster without a care.

stare...

I carefully scooped up a dollop of caviar, savoring the delicate burst of salty, briny flavor.

stare...stare...stare...

But the deliciousness didn't last long.

A prickling sensation crept up my neck, a feeling of being watched...

My gaze darted to each of my companions, but none seemed to be the source.

Then as I went in for another bite my eyes caught sight of a blonde individual on our table.

haah...

What did I do wrong now?... Is it my table manners? If those two buffoons beside me can get away with their messy eating, why am I the one under the microscope?

I forced myself to take another bite, this time of the wagyu.

stareeeee...

The flavor was undeniable – rich, buttery, a symphony of taste that should have been a pure delight.

But the feeling of being watch still persisted.

I glanced at Valencia once more.

She was focused on her artichoke and black truffle.

But as our eyes met, she quickly looked away, almost choking on her food?

"Strange..."

_________

No Authors Notes For Today!