Volume 4—Chapter 73: Snugle
Well… that’s unfortunate. Guess there's no parfait. Irana is going to be in a bad mood for a while. I need to cheer her up somehow. But how?
As I make my way back to them with my drink in hand, I start thinking hard.
“What exactly would cheer her up?” I mutter quietly to myself.
Nothing really comes to mind. I’m drawing a complete blank.
“Oh, Aria. What did you order?” Viola asked as she saw me returning from the counter.
“It was chocolate cream cookies,” I answered while holding up the drink.
I walked over to the table and sat beside Irana, who looked like she had just lost all hope in life. She was pouting and staring at her cup like it had personally betrayed her.
“Come on, Irana. Cheer up. Let’s just take a picture with our drinks instead. Viola, come join us,” I suggested, trying to lighten the mood.
“It’s not the same,” Irana replied, her voice small and sulky.
“Well… we could always get the parfait another day,” I said, still trying.
“The promo only lasts three days. And tomorrow we have school,” Irana shot back, not even looking at me.
“We could go after school,” I offered again, still hopeful.
“Duh, you think you're the only one who thought of that, Onee-chan? There’s going to be a long line again. And by the time we get there, we’ll be all the way at the back. It’ll be just like today. Sold out, and we go home empty-handed,” she grumbled.
“That’s kind of pessimistic of you,” I said with a soft sigh.
But honestly, I couldn’t argue with her logic. She was probably right. I looked over at Viola, who gave me a tiny shrug as she sipped her drink.
I didn’t know what else to say or do.
So, we just stayed there in the café for a while. The energy was a little off, but none of us said anything more. We finished our drinks quietly, and once we were done, we packed up our things and headed back to the dorm. Not exactly the perfect outing… but at least we were together.
Once we finally returned to the dorm, I dropped my bag by the door and flopped face-first onto my bed.
“Ah… home sweet home,” I mumbled, my voice muffled by the pillow.
“Yeah…” Irana replied quietly behind me.
I glanced over my shoulder. She was moving slower than usual, dragging her feet a bit as she walked into the room. Even now, she still looked down. Her shoulders were slouched and her face was stuck in that stubborn pout she wore whenever she was disappointed.
Hmm… Irana’s still in a mood. How should I approach this?
I thought for a second. Comforting words? Nah, she’d probably ignore them. Offer to buy her the parfait later? Already tried that. Snacks? Maybe. But I don’t have anything good in my drawer right now.
There’s only one method left. A ridiculous, slightly embarrassing method. But it usually works.
“Irana,” I said, turning over to face her, “come here… to my arm. Become my body pillow.”
She blinked at me for a moment.
Then, without a word, she walked over and, ike a missile, launched herself into my arms, burying her face against my shoulder. No hesitation. No complaints.
I winced a little from the impact but smiled softly. This method is absolutely annoying. It makes me feel like I’m enabling her spoiled side. But right now, it’s the only thing I can think of. And if it gets her to smile again, then maybe it's not so bad.
Irana nestled into my chest, wrapping her arms around me like a clingy koala. Her hair tickled my neck, and her grip was a little tighter than necessary—maybe out of frustration, maybe just comfort. I let out a small sigh but didn’t push her away.
“See?” I whispered, brushing her bangs aside. “Parfait or not, this isn’t so bad, right?”
“…I guess,” she mumbled into my shoulder, voice muffled. “But next time, you’re lining up with me.”
“Deal,” I said with a small chuckle, patting her head like she was a needy cat.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the room, Viola had been standing frozen for some time. Her hands clutched the pillow she was holding like it was the last barrier protecting her from spontaneous combustion. Her eyes were wide, sparkling with an unholy amount of energy.
And then… she sniffled.
“Ah… so soft… so pure… So rare…”
I turned my head slightly and raised an eyebrow. Oh, right… Viola’s here too.
She didn’t say a word. Instead, she reached into her pocket, pulling out a tissue just as a thin trail of blood began to drip from her nose.
I forgot… Viola’s a full-on lily admirer...
Should I just ignore her and pretend I didn’t see anything?
I sighed internally.
I know exactly what’s going on. But…
Let’s just not address it.
This is where I activate dense-protagonist mode.
“Viola, are you okay? Your nose is bleeding.” I said
“No… I… I am fine.” She said
“You should drink more water, increase your immune system,” I said.
Irana peeked up from my arms and gave her a judgmental stare.
“You’re such a creep, Viola.”
Viola, still clutching her tissue, smirked. “Says the one who dove headfirst into her sister’s chest like it’s a five-star pillow service.”
Irana narrowed her eyes. “At least I’m not standing in the corner fantasising like a perverted ghost.”
“Oh please,” Viola scoffed, tossing the tissue into the bin. “You’re just mad I got front-row seats to your little cuddle act.”
Irana huffed. “Jealousy really doesn’t suit you.”
“Neither does being clingy, but here we are.”
I blinked slowly and stared at the ceiling, sipping my imaginary tea.
Clearly, none of this is happening.
“Hey Aria,” Viola said suddenly, “aren’t you gonna say anything?”
“Hm? Oh, yeah.” I nodded thoughtfully. “We should probably get more pillows for the room. For, uh… balance.”
The room fell quiet for a beat.
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