The Villain's Sister - Chapter 31

A large hand brushed the hair stuck to my cheek.

At the unfamiliar sensation against my skin, every nerve in my body focused on him.

Do all male leads have eyes like Tristan’s?

I couldn’t look away.

It wasn’t like a movie, where sparks fly and the tension breaks into a kiss.

Still, there was definitely something between us.

“Ah.”

Tristan pulled on my wet hair.

As he inhaled deeply, his muscular chest swelled.

I had washed my hair with soap because there was no shampoo. Did it smell weird?

Or did he have some other intention?

Since my feelings toward Tristan were still neutral, the situation felt a bit overwhelming.

“Your hair…”

Maria once said this.

According to my exes, I’m sexiest right after a shower. And if I’ve had a little alcohol… oh God.

I smiled awkwardly.

I didn’t plan to do anything with this man, but if Maria was right, then right now I was very…

“You smell like soap.”

“There wasn’t any body wash…”

Tristan sniffed my hair and swallowed a breath.

Was he bothered because we smelled the same?

Come to think of it, Raphael and I had always used our own preferred shampoos and body washes.

Tristan looked up and stared straight into my eyes.

Biting his lower lip slightly, he confessed, “That’s leftover soap oil I keep to clean the floors… Sorry. I meant to take out the liquid soap after tidying up, but I forgot.”

What? Leftover soap oil?

You smell like that soap, so you reminded me of a training roommate. Someone always lost their soap and ended up using the leftover soap for floor cleaning.

“Whoa, brings back memories.”

I punched Tristan’s arm with honest frustration.

Day one since leaving home.

I ended up trading fists with the protagonist of this world, instead of lips.

***

What a powerful punch.

Tristan wondered if the arm she hit was actually broken as he dried his hair with a towel.

He had planned to look for clues about Raphael’s sister, but thanks to an unexpected guest, it seemed he wouldn’t be going out for a while.

‘I did need a break anyway.’

On nights he went out as Black Pistols, he barely got four hours of sleep.

After exhausting both body and mind chasing criminals without pay, it might not be so bad to treat Giselle’s stay as a vacation and get some rest.

“By the way, while I’m at work tomorrow—”

He stepped out of the bathroom, starting off energetically, but Giselle was curled up asleep on the sofa.

Her jet-black hair was spread wide across the couch.

His gaze drifted to her thin eyelids and the thick lashes beneath them.

A nose that started straight and ended in a sharp, elegant line.

Below that, lips so full, they could only be described as luscious.

Tristan’s hand, still drying his hair with a towel, gradually came to a stop.

The damp towel rested around his neck, and his gaze locked onto Giselle.

Her faint, rhythmic breathing and the subtle rise and fall of her chest.

She looked like a princess from a fairy tale, or a heroine stepped out of a movie screen.

Her very presence felt unreal, and he couldn’t look away.

Blink, and she might vanish like a mirage.

He slowly reached out his hand.

Then, flick, flick, flick—he touched the ends of her hair scattered on the sofa.

Like a child, unable to let go of suspicion yet too curious to resist confirming her presence, he poked gently.

When Giselle didn’t stir, Tristan grew bolder and rubbed the strands between his fingers.

They were thin, soft, and damp. The moment he felt their texture, a strange tension rose.

Then he jolted back, startled by the realization that he had touched someone else without permission.

“Crazy.”

Why am I acting like some hormonal teenager?

Earlier, when Giselle asked about breakfast, it really felt like I had a girlfriend. I couldn’t believe myself.

‘Get a grip.’

Tristan ruffled his hair hard enough to yank it out, then pulled out a blanket and covered Giselle.

He wanted to tuck a pillow or cushion under her face, but because of his own foolish behavior just moments ago, he felt too self-conscious.

She’s seriously strange. I’m not the type to get easily swept up by people, but she keeps pulling me in.

‘I’ll have to be careful from now on.’

Resolving himself, Tristan turned off the light and flopped onto the bed.

Was it because he rarely went to sleep before midnight?

Or because he was used to falling asleep with his ears ringing from gunshots?

The night felt unusually long, and he couldn’t fall asleep easily.

***

Maybe it was the unfamiliar space, but I woke up as the sun began to rise.

My body felt stiff all over from lying on the old sofa.

‘When did I fall asleep?’

I didn’t expect to pass out like this at Tristan’s place—not my house, not Maria’s.

I wasn’t hoping for some passionate romance, but I didn’t want it to feel like a church summer camp either.

So what’s the first thing I should do when I wake up in a strange man’s house?

Especially when he’s not my lover or anything, just someone I need to seduce.

‘…I don’t know. It’s not like I’m as charming as Maria.’

If I keep showing my face, he’ll fall eventually.

Thinking I should wash up and make breakfast, I got up.

I splashed cold water on my face to wake myself and began preparing breakfast.

By the time the meal was ready, it was nearly 7:30.

I approached Tristan to wake him.

As he slept, his good looks stood out even more. He didn’t seem as annoying as he did when awake.

If he’d just speak nicely, he wouldn’t need to look for a fake girlfriend.

“Mmm.”

Just as he shifted in bed, Tristan’s eyes suddenly flew open.

Our eyes met.

Still groggy from sleep, he slowly started to focus, and I watched him wake up.

“…Huh?”

It was the first time I’d heard his voice so deep and husky.

He bolted upright like he’d been struck by lightning.

When he pulled the blanket up and leaned back, I burst out laughing.

“W-what, what, what?”

“Get up. You’ll be late for work.”

“Ah.”

“And let go of that blanket.”

“This… I mean… You could’ve just shaken me awake instead of staring like that.”

Still in bed, Tristan mumbled and grumbled all the way to the bathroom door, saying I’d scared the hell out of him.

By the time he came out fully dressed, the morning news was playing on TV.

— To mark the 7th anniversary of the end of the war, Mist Island is preparing a grand event. The city plans to invite the honorable hero of the battlefield, Duke Valkenstein…

“Wow. I’ve never had such a fancy breakfast even at home. You really mean it, huh?”

“Don’t try to measure my feelings with food.”

Tristan half-listened and started eating first.

He’d always had a good appetite, even yesterday and before.

He ate so well it was satisfying just to watch.

I’m not Linda or anything, but there’s something weirdly pleasing about watching this guy eat his fill.

“It’s nice. Eating breakfast together.”

“You really should stop liking me. It’s kind of overwhelming first thing in the morning.”

“That’s not it. I usually eat breakfast alone.”

“Didn’t you say you have a brother?”

“He doesn’t eat breakfast. He sleeps in. We might eat lunch together, though.”

“What does he do for work?”

“Well… he sells booze and a bunch of other stuff. Don’t try to find out too much. Anyway, what are you going to wear to the wedding this weekend?”

“A suit, of course. I have one from when I started college. I’ll wear that.”

“That means it’s over five years old!”

“I don’t have time to shop.”

“I’ll go get one for you. Your size is…”

I waved my fingers in front of me, trying to estimate Tristan’s size.

Shoulders, chest, waist… As my fingers moved down, he suddenly gaped and jumped up to put on his coat.

While I was talking, he’d finished all his food without me noticing.

“I should head to work. You’re too provocative. Staring at a man’s body like that.”

“When did I ever stare!”

“Even if you’re curious about my measurements, don’t try to find out. That’s my secret.”

“Unbelievable.”

I wanted to punch him like yesterday, but somehow managed to see him off.

When do you finish work today? Probably by 7 at the latest. Weren’t you busy lately? If something happens, I won’t be able to leave on time. Lock the doors properly, and if a strange person knocks, call me right away. Oh, and my seat number is…

The conversation felt strangely like one a newlywed couple might have.

Especially the part where, instead of warning me to watch out for surprise attacks like Raphael would, we talked about mundane things. It made me feel like I was part of a normal world, and I couldn’t help but feel excited.

Like walking on clouds, caught in a fantasy I didn’t want to wake up from.

***

After buying a suit for Tristan at the department store, I paid the extra fee and had it delivered home.

Then I ordered a late lunch in the restaurant section.

‘I should visit Linda this afternoon.’

She probably looks forward to weekends when she can see her son all day, so I should visit during the week if I can.

As I was lost in thought, a server in a suit brought my food.

“Thank you.”

As I picked up my fork, the server pulled out the chair across from me and sat down.

That wasn’t normal behavior.

I looked up and realized I had been mistaken.

She was wearing a suit, but she wasn’t a server.

Servers don’t wear flashy floral suits.

She had her blonde hair tightly tied back and wore round glasses.

She seemed very tall from her seated height, with solid shoulders.

Not exactly pretty, but she had a sexy, healthy charm and a confident smile.

Quietly, I shifted my grip from fork to knife.

“Who are you?”

“Don’t you know me? Didn’t your brother tell you?”

The woman laughed like she couldn’t believe it, then glanced at my hand and clicked her tongue.

“If it were me, I’d be pulling a gun out of my bag.”

“Identify yourself first.”

“Big Bear. You know? Leader of Two Star.”

She pulled my coffee toward her, added several sugar cubes like it was hers, and started sipping.

I hid my trembling hands under the table.

——

T/N: Please note that in previous chapters, Big Bear was referred to with he/him pronouns due to the lack of gender indicators in the original text.