The Escape of Layla

One night, two months after I left the Duke's house and dropped myself off at Mr. Lenhardt's mansion in the Mirage King's Capital, I was stepping into a room with a fireplace, where I spent a lot of time with Mr. Lenhardt.

We spent a lot of time in this room before we went to sleep, even if we didn't show anything in particular. I do embroidery and Mr. Leenhardt sometimes does his own work on making the final adjustments to the magic equipment he puts out to the store, but it was more common for the two of us to read one book or blossom into a conversation where we had herbal tea but no other love.

I got a new fragrance oil tonight, so I was a little behind usual because I was checking that scent, taming my hair and checking my hands.

Because of that, Mr. Leanhardt, who waits for me as if he knew I was coming at all times, did not move as it was brought to the couch only tonight.

If you go around and check your face, you will be asleep with a very calm expression.

Mr. Leanhardt must have finished bathing, too. The glossy dark hair is a little messy, and its appearance in a light white shirt has to be described as a colorful outfit.

But I felt like love solicited just looking at that face that was adorable and so neat that I fell in love with her, how I saw her sleeping face like she felt at ease. Unexpectedly, there is zero sigh of admiration.

As usual, I try to sit right next to Mr. Leanhardt and observe his sleeping face closer. I felt lonely not seeing the purple blue eyes that reminded me of the end of the evening, but I saw his delicate beauty, which I would not normally notice.

First, my eyelashes are so long that I accidentally get jealous. It's always an eye-catching thing for a black kid under his left eye, but even as he slept, he was bringing out some adorable atmosphere that was unique to him.

To a man, I know that's rude to be "cute" to the older lords, too. But Mr. Leanhardt is so adorable that I can't help but think so. I have to think it's sloppy, because it also breeds that habit, and sometimes spectacular color.

Unexpectedly touch his cheek with his fingertips. Warm. The fever of love that makes even that warmth seem loving was so scary to me.

When we met, I never thought I'd feel this way about him. Think of it, that encounter deserved to be called a shock, and every time I still remember it, I felt embarrassed, troubled, but day after day I felt the color of happiness bring to that confusion.

Mr. Leanhardt is a very kind and honest man. All his stories are fresh and show me all the worlds I don't know.

Being with him was just fun. Always smiling days.

When did that thought begin to mix the feelings of falling in love with him?

To the purple blue eyes staring at me as merciful, to the pleasant voice, to the gentle fragrance, one day I was beginning to remember endless relief and sweet moments. If you realize that, you get the contour too.

"Mr. Leanhardt."

Gently, I'll call his name. Naturally, there has been no reply.

I slipped my fingertips touching his cheeks into my neck peeking through the collar of my shirt. Not like me at all, a man's neck.

With that comforting voice, I felt like you wanted me to call my name, but I'm not sneaky to wake you up. Besides, I feel that the opportunity to be seen sleeping on Mr. Leanhardt's face is also invaluable, and I hesitate to put an end to this peaceful time.

As he enjoyed Mr. Leanhardt's sleeping face for a while, he inadvertently wandered lightly and zeroed a grain of tears.

"... Eh... put it down, don't go..."

It doesn't look like I woke up. Apparently it was a bedtime speech, but to that badly chopped voice, nature and my chest also hurt.

But I knew that the pain didn't come solely from empathy for his suffering. The person he seeks in his dreams, is it me, or...

As he gently wipes a grain of tears with his fingertips, his gaze gently lays down at the dark feelings of suspicion and jealousy that have suddenly sprung up in his chest. He's been so nice to me, he couldn't seem so ugly about himself not being satisfied with this status quo.

My relationship with Mr. Leenhardt is also not just about being merciful. He has important secrets that he hasn't revealed to me. It would be natural, in a way, for that secret minute alone to still feel a wall between us and him.

If you want to cross this wall, you think you should step out of me, but I can't make up my mind. My heart doesn't listen to me before the fever of love that I don't like cowardly myself, but I can't even control myself.

Think about excuses and stare at Mr. Leanhardt's sleeping face again. You're still having nightmares, you weren't as peaceful a face as you were earlier.

I can't stand him to suffer or feel pain, but all this time, I wish the Lord of that nightmare were me.

The fever of love seems to evoke more or less dark emotions. It was also the first time I had met Mr. Leanhardt that such a thought had fallen asleep in me.

"… I'm here, Mr. Leanhardt"

With a whispering voice, I speak to him softly. I don't know if this word has been a salvation to him, but it has given me some serene expression.

I wiped the remnants of the tears that had fallen zero from between my long lashes with my fingertips again and stared at Mr. Leenhardt again.

—— Your side of sleeping is so beautiful, I'm sure, because I'm in love with you.

I smiled all the way down the back of my chest with words I couldn't possibly tell him how hard I tried.

You can't even let him sleep on the couch until morning. If you just wait a little longer and still don't wake up, let's shake it up from here.

So determined, I was seeing Mr. Leanhardt again in his sleeping face just moments before I woke him.