Chapter 3.11

Natalie’s expression, braced for the impending kiss, brought a quiet smile to Edgar’s lips.

She peeked her eyes open slightly, curious about the lack of action. Her furrowed brows and trembling eyelids reminded him of a timid herbivore cautiously surveying its surroundings.

Edgar bit his lower lip to suppress his laughter.

“You’re not supposed to open your eyes during a kiss.”

“Then why are yours open, Mr. Wharton?”

Her words, carried on a breath, brushed against his lips. Edgar, his smile still lingering, leaned closer, following her breath.

When he gently held her chin with his fingers, Natalie’s lips closed tightly. The vibration of her suppressed breath reached his fingertips.

Edgar’s gaze lingered on her firmly shut lips.

“Do you not want to kiss me?”

Edgar softly stroked her tightly pressed lower lip with his finger.

“I don’t kiss without permission. Open your lips.”

When he lightly tapped her lips, they parted slightly. But it wasn’t an act of consent.

Natalie opened her eyes wide, glaring at him with green eyes filled with defiance.

“You didn’t ask for permission last time.”

Edgar smiled brightly.

“Permission isn’t always given verbally.”

Locking eyes with her, Edgar suddenly kissed her half-closed lips. It was a quick, light peck that made a soft sound. Natalie’s eyes widened in surprise.

Edgar found it endearing—her wide eyes, slightly parted lips, and the softened wariness in her gaze.

Satisfied with the moment he had claimed in her mind, Edgar smiled contentedly and pulled back.

Natalie’s gaze followed him as he retreated.

“…Is that it?”

Her eyes, looking up at him, held a hint of confusion. Edgar’s lips curled into a faint smile.

“Were you expecting more?”

“…”

Natalie, who had been sitting still, suddenly stood up.

“No, I wasn’t.”

Before she could get caught up in more of his teasing, Natalie fled from Mr. Wharton’s side. In her hurry to pass him, her arm brushed against his. Startled, she hugged her arm close to herself.

“It wasn’t on purpose.”

“Even if it were, I wouldn’t mind.”

His playful response came in a polite tone. Natalie curled into herself, hugging her arm tighter as she stepped back.

“Well, I would mind.”

Just as she felt she had put enough distance between them to feel safe, she felt his fingers at her ear.

Distracted, she hadn’t realized her hair had come loose. His hand brushed her ear as he tucked her hair back, then grazed her earlobe and trailed down to her nape.

Natalie flinched, clasping her neck with both hands to cover it. The heat of her embarrassment radiated beneath her palms. While she stood frozen in place, Edgar smiled leisurely.

“So, what shall we try next? Is there anything you want to do?”

“Something I want to do?”

“Yes, something you’d like to do with your lover. To play the part convincingly, you need to fully immerse yourself in the role.”

His words, tinged with an inexplicable tension, brought Natalie back to her senses.

Lover. Convincing performance.

Those words reminded her that this was all just an act. The tender words and kisses contained no feelings that could be called love.

“…I’m not very good at deceiving people.”

She doubted her ability to meet his expectations as a convincing partner.

Natalie lowered her head. Her gaze fell to Mr. Wharton’s shoes. Her own shoes were so close to his that they nearly touched.

Natalie took another step back. The edge of the carpet on the floor seemed like an uncrossable boundary.

“Then, try loving me.”

Mr. Wharton commanded in a soft tone. Natalie raised her head to look at him. The smile of the man who whispered commands was so sweet and beautiful that it seemed impossible to resist.

The word “love,” carried in his relaxed voice, sounded so simple. Loving him was easy, and being loved by someone seemed just as effortless for him. Countless forms of love—attention, affection, kisses, or tension—must have been directed toward him. Another love added to the mix wouldn’t be particularly special.

Mr. Wharton held out his hand to Natalie.

“To deceive others well, you must first deceive yourself.”

Though he reached out, inviting her to cross the boundary, he remained in place. Commanding love but not loving.

Natalie steadied herself. She etched into her mind that she would not love him, that she must not love him. 

It’s all just an act. A performance to find each other’s match.

Only after repeating this to herself did she take Mr. Wharton’s hand. 

With a gentle smile, Mr. Wharton spoke.

“Before you fall in love with me, shall we take a walk? Actors often spend time together to deliver a good performance. Let’s start with a stroll in the park.”

***

Natalie didn’t want to feel excited. She wanted to approach this walk calmly, just as Mr. Wharton seemed accustomed to dating others. 

But the weather was too perfect. The sky was clear, the sunlight dazzling, the summer greenery lush, and, above all, the blooming roses were stunning.

Without realizing it, Natalie’s smile spread, and her mood began to lift.

She stopped in front of the rose garden. A summer breeze stirred the crimson waves of petals. Amid the beautiful scenery stood Mr. Wharton.

He had taken a few more steps, unaware that Natalie had stopped. When he noticed she was no longer beside him, he turned around.

At times, Natalie thought Mr. Wharton’s movements were as graceful as a dancer’s. The way he turned to face her was just like that.

The man, who always wore a soft smile, gave off a gentle impression—like the petals of a rose. His subtle golden hair gleamed brightly, much like roses basking in sunlight.

As a result of all her observations, Natalie thought Mr. Wharton resembled a rose.

“Do you like roses?”

Because of this, Mr. Wharton’s question sounded different to her.

If she said yes, it felt like she would also be admitting to liking the man who resembled roses.

“…I’m not sure.”

Natalie thought her answer was foolish even as she spoke. 

How could someone not know what they liked?

In the meantime, a cool breeze swept through. The wind, brushing past the rose garden, carried a familiar fragrance. As if to recover from her clumsy response, Natalie added,

“They smell lovely. The scent is wonderful.”

She spoke as though the reason she had stopped walking was because of the fragrance.

Mr. Wharton approached her and bent slightly at the waist in front of the rose garden. He quietly inhaled the scent of the roses before looking at Natalie. Their gazes aligned due to his tilted posture.

Natalie felt her neck stiffen under his unwavering gaze. Mr. Wharton’s habit of staring intently at her constantly made her tense.

Unable to endure it, Natalie averted her eyes.

“The scent is the same as the one from your handkerchief.”

She continued with an awkward laugh, trying to smooth over the tension. However, when Mr. Wharton leaned closer toward her neck, even that awkward laugh disappeared. Startled by the sudden proximity, Natalie froze, holding her breath.

“Natalie, I think it’s your scent.”

The breath accompanying his words brushed against her shoulder, tickling her.

“…It’s because of the wind.”

“Oh, the wind.”

Mr. Wharton murmured as though he understood.

“But…”

A playful smile spread across Mr. Wharton’s face as he raised his head.

“Why are you so tense?”

Natalie was flustered by how his blue eyes seemed to see right through her. Unable to meet his gaze, her eyes darted away.

Mr. Wharton tilted his head again. His lips gently brushed against her neck. At the soft sound of the kiss, Natalie hastily covered her neck with her hand.

She stepped back, retreating from Mr. Wharton. As he slowly opened his eyes, which had been lowered, he looked at Natalie. His expression remained astonishingly composed.

In contrast, Natalie’s pulse was racing. Before her heart could leap out of her chest, she managed to speak.

“Please refrain from such actions.”

Mr. Wharton stood still, watching Natalie, who had retreated far from him.

“Alright. I won’t do it again, so come back.”

However, Natalie only shrank further, her shoulders tense with wariness. She stopped only when her back hit a tree. Clutching the hem of her dress tightly, she tried to steady her breathing.

She waited for her heart to calm, but every time the wind blew, the scent of roses stirred her emotions again. As a result, she remained pressed against the tree, unable to move.

Mr. Wharton didn’t chase after her. He stood still by the rose garden, simply watching her.

“I’m sorry, Natalie.”

The wind, which had carried the scent of roses, now carried his voice. Hearing his calm apology, Natalie found her own unsettled heart to be ironic.

“Was that part of the practice too?”

“That was just… a joke.”

It really was ironic.

“…That’s a terrible joke.”

The distance between them remained unbridged. Natalie, unable to look directly at the beautiful yet infuriating man, stared down at her feet. She exhaled deeply and was about to return to Mr. Wharton when she noticed someone approaching from the path ahead.

A gentleman in a neat coat—Mr. Salinger.

“Edgar? Are you out for a walk too?”

Spotting Mr. Wharton, his expression lit up with the delight of seeing a friend.