The Delicate Female Lead Only Wants to be Loved by the Villainous Young Ladies 26

Chapter 26: Please… Hold Me

—”Am I wrong!?” Dorothy cried, her voice cracking with emotion. “You do hate being with me!”

The memories, flooding back, pushed her to the brink. Her emotions, always volatile, threatened to spill over.

Adele knew this, understood that dealing with Dorothy required a delicate touch, like stroking a cat’s fur in the right direction.

She gritted her teeth, enduring the pressure radiating from Dorothy, a pressure that wasn’t a conscious act of dominance, but simply the inherent aura of a princess, a born ruler.

“…Dorothy,” she said, her voice firm despite the tremor in her chest. “If I hated being with you, would I let you boss me around like this?”

It was a bold statement, a bluff she prayed Dorothy would buy. After all, fake it till you make it, right?

The reality, of course, was that she had no choice but to obey Dorothy. She was a lowly Sequence Five, after all.

This kind of defiance wouldn’t work on the other Sequence Ones, but with Dorothy… it might just do the trick.

As expected, Dorothy calmed down slightly, her gaze softening a fraction. But her eyes were still cold, a chilling blue that sent shivers down Adele’s spine.

Adele pressed her advantage.

“Is it possible… that I just dislike… certain things you do?” she asked, her voice hesitant. “That I don’t… necessarily dislike you?”

It was a flimsy excuse, a blatant lie disguised as a reluctant confession. But it was the answer Dorothy wanted to hear.

“Is… that true?” Dorothy’s voice wavered, a flicker of hope igniting in her eyes.

She was a master of self-deception, easily swayed by the slightest hint of validation. All Adele had to do was dangle the bait, and Dorothy would take it hook, line, and sinker.

Love made fools of everyone, even if it was a one-sided, delusional love like Dorothy’s.

But if Adele gained Dorothy’s trust, her favor, and then betrayed her… the consequences would be dire.

So, she had to commit to the act, to sell the lie.

“Of course it’s true,” she said, her voice gaining confidence. “I hate being forced to do things I don’t want to do. It’s just… I wasn’t very good at expressing myself before.”

Dorothy’s eyes, which had been shining like polished rubies, dimmed slightly, a flicker of hurt flashing across her face.

“Did Hermione teach you… how to express yourself?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

Adele winced internally. So, the news of her afternoon tryst with Hermione had already spread. Someone, most likely hoping to stir up trouble, had made sure Dorothy knew all about it.

Which explained why Dorothy had sought her out during break. She had wanted to see for herself what Hermione had done to her, to make sure she hadn’t overstepped her bounds.

“No… It wasn’t Hermione,” Adele said quickly, not wanting to be the cause of any further conflict. She was starting to care about Hermione, to feel protective of her, despite being the weaker one, the one who should be protected.

“I just… realized some things.”

“Realized some… things?” Dorothy’s gaze met Adele’s, her eyes wide with a mixture of curiosity and something akin to… longing?

It was inevitable.

Adele was the object of her affection, her chosen one, her most delicious plaything.

That alone explained everything.

“Yes,” Adele said, taking a deep breath and reaching out to touch Dorothy’s cheek. She was getting bolder, more daring.

It seemed she had finally figured out how to deal with these Sequence Ones. Hermione, Dorothy… they were used to being the ones in control, the ones calling the shots. So, when their “pet,” the one who should be submissive and obedient, dared to take the initiative… it threw them off balance.

And in that moment of confusion, of vulnerability, they were more likely to indulge her, to allow her to overstep her bounds.

It was a high-risk, high-reward strategy.

And if it worked on Hermione… then surely, it would work on Dorothy as well.

Adele’s touch was gentle, tentative. Dorothy’s skin was warm, soft, unlike Hermione’s icy touch. But she resisted the urge to pinch her cheek. She wasn’t that bold… yet.

Dorothy’s expression was unreadable, her gaze fixed on Adele’s hand as if she were trying to decipher its meaning.

Adele, sensing her hesitation, pressed on, knowing she had to seize this opportunity before it slipped away.

“I… I didn’t understand your feelings before, Dorothy,” she said, her voice soft yet sincere. “I was scared, confused… I didn’t know how to act around you. We’re from different worlds, after all.”

“And… I think that led to misunderstandings, to us… drifting apart.”

Dorothy’s gaze drifted down to Adele’s hand, her brow furrowing as she considered her words. Adele’s fingers, slender and pale, seemed to glow in the soft light of the setting sun.

“Is that… true?” she whispered, her voice laced with uncertainty.

Adele’s heart skipped a beat.

But then, Dorothy’s expression softened, her eyes brightening.

“It is! I knew it!” Her mood shifted so quickly, so abruptly, that it was almost dizzying.

But that was Dorothy. A whirlwind of emotions, a force of nature.

“So, all those things you said… about never forgiving me, about hating me… you were just kidding, right?” she asked, a dangerous glint in her eyes.

Adele winced internally.

Couldn’t you have just played along, original Adele? Just a little… Couldn’t you have just humored her?

This whole mess could have been avoided with a simple conversation. If only Adele had explained her feelings, told Dorothy that she didn’t want to spend time with her friends… Dorothy would have listened. At least, she would have listened to Adele.

But the original Adele had chosen to suffer in silence, letting her anger and resentment fester.

One was impulsive and clueless, the other was stubborn and resentful… they were a recipe for disaster.

“It was… just a momentary lapse in judgment,” Adele said, trying to smooth things over. She couldn’t erase the past, but she could try to explain it.

Dorothy’s breath hitched, her eyes widening. She knew what “a momentary lapse in judgment” meant. It meant that for a brief moment, Adele had genuinely meant those hurtful words.

Sensing Dorothy’s rising anger, Adele quickly added, “Please, Dorothy, just… hear me out.”

“You’re the first person who has ever dared to tell me to be patient,” Dorothy said, her voice dangerously low.

Adele’s heart sank. Did I say the wrong thing?

But then, after a tense silence, Dorothy closed her eyes, her expression softening.

“But… I’ll be patient for you,” she murmured, her voice barely audible. “I often wonder if I’m going mad. But Hermione and the others always say I’m crazy, so… maybe this is my normal state.”

She opened her eyes, her gaze settling on Adele’s hand, which was still resting on her cheek. “Your hand is cold,” she said. “Did you catch Hermione’s chill?”

“No… It’s not that.” Adele remembered her fever that morning, though it had mostly subsided by now.

“I just… have a slight fever,” she said, coughing lightly. “I probably caught a cold last night.”

“But it’s nothing serious.” She forced herself to sound strong, to project an image of resilience. It was the Adele that Dorothy knew, the Adele she had fallen for.

“I’ll call Sharon,” Dorothy said, her voice laced with concern. “She knows healing magic.”

She was a woman of action, not one to waste time deliberating. Besides, Sharon was more of a follower than a friend, someone Dorothy could easily order around.

Adele, hearing Sharon’s name, swallowed nervously. She wasn’t ready to deal with two Sequence Ones at the same time, especially not two with such… unique personalities.

If Dorothy was a force of nature, her power undeniable, her intentions clear, then Sharon was a shadow, her motives shrouded in mystery, her true nature a puzzle waiting to be solved.

But she was adorable. That much Adele could concede.

“N-No, it’s fine, Dorothy,” she said quickly. “If you’re willing to be patient for me, then I can be patient too.”

Besides, there was a much better remedy than healing magic, wasn’t there?

She blushed, withdrawing her hand and clutching it to her chest, feigning shyness.

“What… remedy?” Dorothy asked, her curiosity piqued. Even human science, as far as she knew, couldn’t compete with the effectiveness of healing magic.

Adele bit her lip, her cheeks burning as she slowly opened her arms.

“…Please… hold me.”

It was the oldest, simplest, yet most effective way to chase away the cold. All it required was… well, two arms.

It was more of a psychological comfort than a physical one, but that was exactly what Adele needed at this moment. Besides, if Dorothy was willing to indulge her in this… then it would give Adele a better understanding of the boundaries, the lines she could and couldn’t cross.

It was a risky strategy, but potentially rewarding. One wrong move, however, and the consequences could be… unpleasant.

Dorothy stared at Adele, her gaze intense, searching. The silence stretched on, each passing second amplifying the tension, until Adele was sure she had pushed her luck too far.

Maybe I should just…

But just as she was about to withdraw her offer, her arms starting to ache from the awkward position, Dorothy took a hesitant step forward, closing the distance between them until Adele could feel the warmth of her breath, smell the faint scent of citrus that clung to her.

And then, she reached out and pulled Adele into an embrace.

It was a warm, comforting embrace, unlike Hermione’s icy touch. And surprisingly… it felt… equal.

Because unlike Hermione, Dorothy wasn’t tall and imposing. She was just a little taller than Adele, her embrace more comforting than dominating.

And yet… she was far more powerful than Hermione.

Adele’s eyes widened in surprise, then softened as a wave of relief washed over her.

Dorothy, for no apparent reason, sniffed the air, her heart skipping a beat.

Could… could this really cure Adele’s cold?

She didn’t understand, but her mouth began to water, her fangs aching to sink into that sweet, tempting flesh.

But Adele was sick.

She would be patient.

Once again, Dorothy made an exception for this lowly Sequence Five, her desires taking a backseat to Adele’s well-being.

Because Adele had said… that she hated being forced.

Perhaps… perhaps Dorothy hadn’t been treating Adele like a toy after all. Perhaps it had all been… a misunderstanding.

Maybe Adele wasn’t a toy… but a playmate. Someone Dorothy genuinely wanted to be friends with.

That was the realization that dawned on Adele as she stood in Dorothy’s embrace, feeling the warmth of her body, the gentle rise and fall of her chest.

Dorothy… You really are terrible at communicating, aren’t you?