A Villain's Way of Taming Heroines

Recently, Ravenna has been consistently startled awake by nightmares.

Ever since Ansel uttered those words, she has been perpetually restless.

Although that mischievous jerk eventually laughed it off as a mere jest, Ravenna couldn't shake the feeling that he was not truly jesting.

Even if it was just for a fleeting moment, whenever she caught a glimpse of Ansel's emotions, she could discern the secrets he was reluctant to voice.

Yet, this jerk, merely thirteen years of age, displayed a sophistication that left Ravenna at a loss; she could not detect any anomalies in his daily demeanor, nor dared she make any indirect inquiries—for she knew well that he would see right through them.

The diminutive scholarly prodigy glanced at the blond boy sleeping beside her, remained silent for a long while, and raised her hand as if to touch his hair. But just before her fingers could graze those soft golden strands, her hand paused, suspended in mid-air.

Without a word, she withdrew her hand, descended from the spacious sofa, donned her glasses, and prepared to embark on new research.

As for why the two shared a sleeping space... well, that traces back to a time long ago when Ansel first insisted that Ravenna rest properly.

Their sleeping positions were impeccable, and their appearances were… any improper thoughts seemed almost criminal, thus they simply lay together naturally and harmoniously on the same sofa.

Ravenna performed a spell for efficient self-cleansing, and her feet, encased in black tights, silently stepped onto the floor as she moved towards her workstation.

However, as she picked up her pen, ready to delve into calculations and research, she found herself utterly unable to concentrate.

"... Ah, up so early again?"

As Ravenna stared blankly at the blueprints, Ansel, yawning, sat up and said, "How many times have I told you, breakfast first, Venna."

After a couple of seconds of silence, Ansel, half-squinting, took in Ravenna's silent, frozen demeanor, and his lazy, casual expression gradually faded.

A peculiar, indescribable silence enveloped them until Ravenna murmured softly, "I'm not really hungry this morning; you go ahead and eat."

Ansel did not respond but simply propped his cheek with his hand, gazing at Ravenna for a long time before finally sighing in resignation, "It seems you've taken my joke to heart."

"... I believe," Ravenna turned her head, her expression earnest, "that's not something to joke about."

"Don't you know me by now?"

Ansel said nonchalantly, "To me, there's nothing too serious to joke about. Or is it that..."

His voice suddenly became lighter, more elusive, as if a ghost aimlessly wandering the world was whispering.

His clear, ocean-blue eyes deepened, becoming so profound that Ravenna could not discern their depths.

"If I truly intended to abandon the future we both chase, would you... abandon me?"

"Do not make such assumptions!"

Ravenna's voice rose, her tone and expression unmistakably tinged with irritation: "You clearly would never do such a thing, Ansel! Why must you speak such words? Is it your intention to provoke my anger? To see me flustered and embarrassed?"

"Well, you've succeeded."

She hopped off the chair and approached Ansel, who was seated on the sofa. Her eyes, usually indifferent, were now brewing with distinct fury. The petite sorceress, almost as tall as Ansel, pinned the blond boy down on the sofa, her face nearly touching his:

"Now, you've disturbed my peace of mind to the point where I can't rest properly, nor can I focus on my work... Whatever I do, I end up uncontrollably pondering why you would say such things, whether you would actually... actually do—"

Ravenna, pinning Ansel beneath her, gasped for breath, her soft, thick blue-gray hair cascading down like curtains on either side of Ansel's face, restricting his view to her usually impassive but now visibly haggard face.

"Ansel..."

She closed her eyes, whispering wearily: "Your joke, it was just that, a joke meant to toy with me, right?"

Ravenna didn't open her eyes; she feared that upon meeting his sea-blue gaze, she would read an emotion that could shatter her in an instant.

Only those engulfed in silence could discern whether it was fleeting or eternal.

After what seemed an eternity, Ravenna felt a hand caress her cheek.

"Have I found another weakness of yours?"

Following that teasing chuckle, the petite sorceress completely softened, collapsing onto Ansel's chest, their faces touching, sharing the warmth and sensation of each other's presence in such intimate proximity.

"You're truly an asshole, Ansel."

Ravenna murmured feebly: "At just thirteen, you're already so adept at teasing, it's unimaginable... what you might become in the future."

"But no matter what you become." Ansel gently wrapped his arms around Ravenna's waist, "You'll like it, won't you?"

"..." The diminutive scholar made a symbolic struggle before ceasing to move, deflecting the conversation with a phrase she had repeated countless times, "I am five years your senior, Ansel... Of course, if you're referring to a friend-like affection, then I won't deny it..."

Ansel merely chuckled softly in Ravenna's ear, offering no reply.

And she, in turn, should be grateful for her choice just moments before.

She should be thankful that she didn't open her eyes at that moment, didn't meet Ansel's gaze, and now, didn't see the expression on his face.

That expression, which, despite emitting such a close laugh, was detached, eerie, and terrifying.

Sometimes, pain does not necessarily signify struggle, but rather... a choice already made.

Just as Ravenna understood Ansel so well, he understood her just as much.

—Her pain did not stem from indecision, but from the knowledge that if Ansel truly intended to give up, or even betray...

Then she would undoubtedly give up on Ansel.

"Venna," Ansel murmured warmly as he caressed Ravenna's back, "Let's go and gaze at the sky once more."

Looking up at the boundless azure was one of Ravenna's rare pleasures, and now, comforted, she had no reason to refuse.

"Are you trying to offer me some solace?" Ravenna whispered, her face close to Ansel's cheek.

"Something like that," Ansel smiled, "I am your best friend, after all."

I am your best friend, and so are you, Venna.

Therefore, just this once... I think, I'll give you another chance.

Not from my own conjecture, but for you to voice that answer yourself.

Me, and that hollow, illusory obsession...

Which will you choose?

Ansel, still embracing Ravenna, stood up and mused inwardly.

He turned his head as if to listen to Ravenna's heartbeat, or perhaps the whispers of fate.

But all he heard was the distant, faint rumble of thunder from the heavens.

A storm was coming.

*