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The story Gil had just confided in me was so unexpected that my mind froze for a moment.
“A good way to confess your feelings?”
Gil nodded once, expression unreadable.
“Uh…”
I made a show of thinking, but ended up staring at him. Absolutely not what I’d expected.
Just five minutes ago, he had asked to talk about something serious, and I’d invited him into my room. Now, sitting across from me, Gil’s eyes were unusually focused.
(I’d noticed he’d been a bit more thoughtful lately, sometimes…)
But I never imagined it would be this kind of problem.
“So… you haven’t said anything to them yet?”
“Well, I’ve dropped a few hints, but they haven’t picked up on them at all.”
“I see…”
Caught off guard by his unexpected answer, I struggled to respond. Still, he had trusted me with such a vulnerable part of himself—I owed him my full attention.
And, truth be told, my curiosity was piqued.
If Gil really wanted, he could probably just wait, and they’d come to him naturally. But I couldn’t help wondering—how exactly had he been approaching this?
“So… when you say ‘drop hints,’ you mean, like…”
His eyes drifted slightly upward, as if recalling something. When they returned, a resigned sigh followed.
“Take care of them, praise them, pet them every now and then.”
“…I see.”
I could barely process his unexpected answer. For some reason, my chest prickled with discomfort. Ignoring it, I focused on analyzing the information he’d shared.
(As a way of expressing feelings…)
It was… delicate. Normally, merely showing affection like that wouldn’t convey deep feelings. But this was Gil.
“And… they don’t seem to dislike those gestures?”
“They seem satisfied.”
He nodded when I double-checked.
If he wanted to hint at his feelings subtly, maybe he could have been a bit sweeter. I tilted my gaze upward, imagining it.
(Oh… indeed.)
I could see he made Gil feel special. Surely, the other person wasn’t entirely indifferent.
“…If you care about them this much, maybe it’s getting through, isn’t it?”
“Maybe a little.”
He shrugged, his reply less than satisfactory. Some feelings might be conveyed, but nothing decisive yet.
“I told them I liked them before, though.”
“Eh?”
“A few times.”
“Eh?”
“But it was too subtle, didn’t really count.”
“Ah… I see…”
If the expressions were about liking their eyes, their touch, or something else small, maybe the other person wasn’t entirely sure.
After all, it’s hard to be confident when it’s Gil. Better to avoid expectations than to misinterpret and feel self-loathing.
“You actually said ‘I like you,’ right? Saying something like ‘not bad’ wouldn’t work.”
“I said it properly.”
I was speechless again. If the person could make Gil speak like that, I wanted to meet them myself.
Meanwhile, the prickling in my chest intensified, distracting me. A sudden, unexplained pain—but I forced my mind back to the conversation.
“In that case… what if you just say plainly that you like them?”
“Well… I considered it, but I doubt they’d believe me.”
“Eh…? What kind of relationship is this person to you?”
Would anyone be unhappy to be confessed to by Gil? Especially if their feelings were already somewhat accepted. Still, fearing that the feelings might not get through…
“Ah.”
A sudden idea struck, and Gil looked up. Perhaps…
“You’re friends?”
“…Yeah.”
I see. His slight displeasure makes sense now. I’d never sensed friends of Gil’s before, but he must be protective of them.
“When it’s someone close, it might be hard to express feelings clearly.”
Gil nodded as if to say, “Finally, you get it.”
“Right…”
I thought, while resting my chin on my hand, maybe I could offer some guidance. Information about the other person was limited, so my advice might not be precise.
“Hm… if words won’t convince them, why not show through actions?”
“…What should I do?”
“Like… a kiss.”
“…”
His face screamed, Are you serious?
I smiled at Gil, who looked exasperated and speechless.
“It’s not impossible, right?”
“…Who wouldn’t be happy to be liked by Gil?”
“…”
I meant it genuinely, but he stared with the same neutral expression. No embarrassment, no doubt, no objection—just unreadable.
“You really don’t have to, you know?”
“Huh?”
“The kiss.”
“…Huh?”
“The other person isn’t romantically aware of you yet, right? Then they’d probably stop you midway anyway.”
It seemed like a good idea to me.
Though he looked a little intimidating now, with the right person, his expression would soften. No fear would be caused. From what Gil told me, the other person probably had at least a small affection for him. With some restraint, nothing unpleasant should occur.
“If they reject you, it’s fine. But letting them experience what kind of relationship you want might convey your feelings.”
I met his slightly glaring gaze with my own. Was he imagining the person in question? His eyes pressed with intensity, and a small worry arose.
“Don’t use force. No one could stand against Gil if he tried, you’d just scare them.”
“…I’ll take care.”
I nodded approvingly. His face darkened further. Will this work?
“Then if you wait for them to stop you, it shows how much you care.”
I added the explanation just in case. He might be experienced and confident, but perhaps not in pure romance. Someone Gil cared so deeply for was fascinating.
My chest ached from sharp pricks to dull heaviness. Still, I had at least helped Gil think through his problem. Later, I’d have to figure out the cause and remedy for the pain.
“And the answer?”
“Huh?”
Just when I thought the issue had been resolved and started to relax, he continued.
“So until they say I’m allowed to make a move, I can’t touch them, right?”
In other words—he wanted to. Badly.
The implication hung in the air, blunt and intense, almost desperate.
Seeing that glimpse of Gil’s sincerity made the haze in my chest spread darker.
“Um… I think if you went that far, they’d have to say something eventually…”
When I offered my opinion, he shrugged as if unimpressed and rejected the idea outright.
So he didn’t expect much.
Was the person really that unlikely to see him romantically?
Or were they simply that dense?
(No wonder Gil’s struggling…)
Then again… maybe that was exactly what he liked about them.
(Hmm…)
There wasn’t nearly enough information about the person, but I tried picturing Gil’s confession as realistically as I could.
For some reason, I couldn’t imagine it failing.
(…Hm?)
My chest suddenly tightened.
A sharp, constricting pain.
Was it related to the ache and haze I’d felt earlier?
(…?)
I couldn’t tell.
It hurt. Heavy. Just unpleasant.
Pushing the thought aside for now, I brought my wandering gaze back to Gil. If I could just help solve his problem, I could be alone and sort myself out afterward.
But the look he gave me—throwing the whole matter back at me despite it being his own problem—showed no intention of thinking for himself.
His usual calm expression revealed nothing of the suffering he claimed to be feeling.
(…Is he really troubled at all?)
He had come to me for advice, so he must have been struggling to some degree.
But maybe this unreadable demeanor was exactly why his feelings weren’t reaching the other person.
Or maybe he was simply terrible at recognizing emotional pain in the first place.
(………)
For some reason, a slightly mean-spirited idea suddenly crossed my mind.
“…In that case,”
Suppressing the persistent ache twisting in my chest, I tried to pull my thoughts back from the brink of giving up entirely.
Why had I suddenly started wishing Gil’s confession would fail?
Was it because I hated the idea of something important to me going to someone else?
Well… I did hate it.
But that was beside the point.
This wasn’t the time to throw a childish tantrum over it.
“If they’re willing to respond… perhaps you could ask them to kiss you first?”
I carefully arranged my expression into one of innocent thoughtfulness—like I had given the idea proper consideration.
Hopefully he wouldn’t ask for anything more.
I was fairly certain any further advice from me would be terrible.
Even this idea I’d just forced out wasn’t exactly good advice.
Asking someone to take the initiative like that only raised the hurdle.
It wouldn’t be advantageous for either Gil or the person he liked.
If he couldn’t figure something that simple out himself, then maybe crashing and burning would serve him right.
As I half-resigned myself to that thought, Gil examined my final suggestion with a face that showed neither gratitude nor excitement.
Then he closed his eyes—just like a blink.
But they stayed shut a little longer than that.
When they opened again, his gaze was more serious than ever.
A question mark hovered in my mind as I found myself staring back, unable to look away.
Then Gil’s lips moved slowly—almost in slow motion.
“I love you.”
“…Excuse me?”
The confession came out of nowhere.
What?
Did he want to rehearse it or something?
“P-practice?
Do you want to try practicing?”
“………”
I didn’t mind being a stand-in, honestly.
If Gil’s confession succeeded, maybe I could ask him to introduce me to the person he liked as a reward.
“Gil…? Um—”
“………”
Gil suddenly stood and stepped closer. I followed instinctively, retreating a few steps under his pressure.
“Ah… I… I don’t know how to react…?”
Before I realized it, Gil had already tipped my chin up.
The motion was effortless—far too practiced.
And then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, he leaned in, his lips drawing closer.
Only then did I finally realize what he intended.
“—Ah, wait, Gil—”
I’d thought he would stop just short, but he kept coming closer with surprising momentum.
Startled, my hand moved on its own, pressing against his mouth to stop him.
It couldn’t possibly have been any real resistance for someone like Gil.
And yet, he didn’t move.
He simply stayed there, perfectly still, my hand still pressed against his mouth, watching me as though he had something to say.
But he said nothing.
Nor did he pull away.
Trapped between the two, I could only blink in confusion, unsure what he expected from me.
Then his hand closed gently around mine.
Slowly, he guided it away from his lips.
“…Wasn’t that what you said?”
Gil’s voice was low.
“That if I waited like this—”
His gaze held mine, steady and unblinking.
“—it would show how much I value them?”
Lizel blinked, confused.
“…What?”
Gil’s expression darkened into a faint scowl.
“You’re the one who said it.”
Then, after a beat, he added—
“So?”
His fingers were still loosely wrapped around my hand.
“Aren’t you going to answer me?”
“….”
I’d managed to trap myself with my own advice.
If anything, it would have been far easier to simply accept the kiss he was offering.
(Wh… what am I supposed to do?)
The dull ache that had been throbbing in my chest all this time was probably the answer to how I felt about Gil.
But the gap between realizing it and truly accepting it was far too short.
My thoughts refused to settle.
My feelings were a tangled mess.
And before I could sort any of it out, my gaze dropped—
to the hand Gil was still holding.
Truthfully, I wanted him to let go.
My heart was pounding so loudly I could barely think.
A quiet sigh fell from above me.
Out of habit, I lifted my head—only to be caught.
By the time I realized it, Gil’s face was already far too close.
His lips were right there.
“If you don’t want it,” he murmured,
“say so.”
Just like that, the hurdle I’d set was lowered without ceremony.
He always did this.
Like it was the most natural thing in the world, Gil would spoil me.
I had thought—if Gil truly liked someone, if the urge to touch them was something he could barely restrain, then he would push as far as he possibly could.
And yet…
Even after I’d given advice that practically stood in his way—
He still stopped.
The realization made my chest tighten.
Unable to run.
Unable to stop him.
As his lips drew closer, closer—
I squeezed my eyes shut.
And that, apparently, was all the invitation he needed.
“Mmph—”
I grabbed a fistful of Gil’s clothes, clutching at his back as if that might somehow erase the lingering warmth of the kiss.
“…?”
But instead of pressing further, Gil’s mouth moved away.
His lips brushed against the crown of my head—almost like a kiss.
“That's an invitation, you know.”
“…Huh?”
I had no idea what he meant.
There hadn’t been the slightest intention behind it.
“Isn’t it?”
His lips were still there, warm against my hair, his breath stirring the strands.
At the same time, his fingers slipped behind my neck, tracing lightly along my skin.
“M—nh…!”
The sensation made me jolt.
Before I could stop myself, I pressed my forehead against his shoulder, tightening my grip on his clothes even though I knew it wouldn’t help at all.
“Clinging to me like that,” Gil murmured,
“I thought you were asking for more.”
“H-Hya…”
His lips slid to my ear, whispering, tickling, almost unrecognizable as words.
“…?”
Something moved along my back. Gil’s fingers.
A shiver ran up my neck. I noticed his breath laughing near my ear and finally came to my senses.
“Gil…”
“That reaction of yours,” Gil murmured near my ear,
“you’re the one making it hard to behave.”
“I—I’m not…!”
“Oh yeah?”
“…!”
I was too busy trying to sort through the chaos in my chest to even move.
Gil looked down at me for a moment, as if he wanted to say something—
but instead, his gaze softened.
His hand ruffled my hair, fingers combing gently through my bangs, warm and unhurried.
“It worked,” he said simply.
“…What?”
I blinked up at him.
Then it hit me.
That had been his thanks—
for helping his confession succeed.
“Of course it did,” I muttered weakly, looking away.
“You asked the person himself…”
I wanted to complain about how unnecessarily ambiguous he was, but the words dissolved into a weak, breathy sigh instead.
Gil chuckled softly above me.
“Careful,” he murmured.
“If you keep looking at me like that…”
His fingers brushed lightly through my hair again.
“…I might not be able to stop.”