There’s sothing weird about having soone pin you down and inspect your torso like it’s a science project—and even weirder when that soone is supposed to be a guy.
Except, she’s not.
Not really.
Leona was pretending to be a boy at Velcrest Academy. That was part of her storyline. A big secret she was carrying—sothing no one was supposed to know. Not her classmates. Not her instructors.
Not even .
But I knew. Because I’ve read the plot.
So, no matter how sharp she acts, how rough her words are, or how many tis she brushes off attention like a grumpy tomcat... at the end of the day, she’s still a girl.
A girl my age. A girl raised in a cage of lies and expectations.
And just like any other girl, she’s probably curious too.
About things.
About boys.
I an, she was currently straddling and unbuttoning my shirt like she was trying to figure out if I ca with instructions.
But unlike most heroines in fantasy novels, Leona has... preferences.
She doesn’t like muscles. Actually, she’s lowkey grossed out by them. She practically shudders every ti Ryen tries to touch her. Of course, he thinks she’s a guy too, which makes all that macho posturing extra awkward.
And ?
Well, I’m not Ryen.
I’m not muscular.
Not intimidating.
According to Leona—who’s still studying like an anatomy diagram—I’m all pale limbs and fragile-looking ribs.
Fantastic.
I’d love to feel flattered, but I’m too busy praying to whatever god oversees teenage awkwardness.
Because no matter how hard I try to be calm, cool, and collected...
...I’m seventeen.
In a seventeen-year-old boy’s body.
And that body? Has a mind of its own.
Full of hormones.
Loud, annoying, treacherous hormones.
And right now?
Yeah.
They’re staging a full-blown revolution.
I clenched my jaw, trying to think about literally anything else. Taxes. Brick walls. The digestive system of a squirrel. Anything to not react to the girl sitting on top of , gently pressing her palm against my stomach like she was testing the softness of a pillow.
Get it together, Rin. Think cold thoughts. Dead fish. Midterm exams. That one ti you slipped on soap and fell in front of the class.
Leona leaned a little closer, tilting her head.
"You’re not... ticklish, are you?"
Dear god.
Abort mission.
I froze. "N-no."
"Good. Because if you squird, I’d assu you were hiding sothing."
I was definitely hiding sothing.
But not what she thought.
She narrowed her eyes and sat back slightly, clearly deep in thought, but her position didn’t get any less compromising.
anwhile, I stayed still like a hunted animal, pretending this was all normal and not a chemical disaster brewing under my skin.
Honestly, this was torture.
Worse than any of the monster battles in the novel.
Because in those, at least I had a sword.
Here, I just had a brain overloaded by hormones and a girl in disguise examining like I was a live specin.
I swallowed hard.
"n aren’t different after all," Leona muttered under her breath, her eyes shalessly scanning up and down.
Oh, co on.
Her face was red, but the curiosity burning behind her eyes was way more dangerous than whatever she thought she was investigating.
She didn’t even seem to realize what she was saying anymore.
I was monts away from being poked like so anatomy exhibit in a biology lab.
At this rate, I’d end up like one of those poor guys in cursed doujins—overpowered, flustered, and morally confused. And sooner or later, she’d blurt sothing out that confird the big secret I already knew.
Not yet...!
I wasn’t ready for the plot to skip ahead like that!
Just as I was about to use reinforcent to lightly push her off—gently, of course, because if I so much as scratched her, I’d probably get suplexed through a wall—
Ding-ding~
A cheesy notification jingle echoed through the silent room.
We both froze.
Not a call.
Not a ssage.
Just a stupid app update reminding to stretch or drink water or sothing.
But it may as well have been divine intervention.
Leona blinked. Her eyes darted to the phone, then back at . And just like that, she scrambled off as if she’d just realized she was sitting on a landmine.
"Uh? I... Right now... Hey, sorry," she mumbled, stumbling over her words, cheeks now properly glowing like a warning light.
Honestly?
She looked weirdly adorable when she was flustered.
Too bad I had to pretend I didn’t know she was actually a girl.
Which ant...
I needed to react like a normal, totally unsuspecting guy.
In a boys’ dorm, where my trusted male roommate had just pinned down, unbuttoned my shirt, touched my abs, and then blushed.
So... what would a regular guy do in this situation?
There was only one thing I could do.
I slowly sat up, pulled my shirt back together, and fixed her—him—with my most judgntal, disgusted expression.
"...Leon."
"...Huh?" Her voice cracked. Cute.
"...Do you have that kind of preference?"
Her eyes went wide. "No—I don’t—!?"
I let the silence stretch just long enough to be dramatic, then stood up and took a few deliberate steps back, pretending to guard my shirt like it had just been through a traumatic experience.
She looked completely horrified. Hands flailing, face flushed, brain clearly overheating.
"I-It’s not like that!" she stamred. "I was just—! You looked too skinny! I was checking if you were, like... dying! Or sothing!"
"Right." I nodded slowly, completely deadpan. "And the abs inspection was a dical procedure?"
"I panicked, okay?!"
I crossed my arms, doing my best to hold in my laughter. "Leon, we’ve known each other for two and half months, and I trusted you."
"You still can!"
"...My heart’s broken."
"Rin!"
At that point, I couldn’t hold it anymore. I cracked a grin.
"Relax. I’m ssing with you."
She blinked. Then narrowed her eyes.
"You little—!"
"Whoa! Whoa! Don’t tackle again!"
Too late.
She lunged, and I barely dodged in ti, jumping over the bed like it was an Olympic hurdle.
Maybe I’d live to see the sunrise. Maybe I wouldn’t.
But one thing was clear:
Leona being flustered was the single most dangerous thing in this dorm.
And the scariest part?
She didn’t even know how cute she looked when she panicked.
I was dood.
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