Clarissa Beheads The Villainess

[20] Rejection But Not Entirely

"Vixen? Has something happened?" Asks Peter. He notices the subtle hint of sadness in the big man's face every time he brings Clarissa food, leaving it outside the door of her room.

"It's late for you to ask now, this has been the routine for two weeks already."

"She's been hiding herself in there this whole time?"

"Of all people, I'd expect you know everything happening or has happened in this place."

"I know of course."

"Then why are you asking?" Vixen replies with an annoyed grumble. For everyone, it's been undeniably tense lately and not even Peter's best recipes could make things better.

"You haven't even tried getting her to come out. Are you scared of her?"

"Why would I be scared!?"

"Because for the first time you saw the eyes of a stone-cold killer. From among the three of you men in that room that day, you are the only one who can't seem to get a grip."

"And among the three of us, no one tried talking to Clarissa."

"So you've given up on her then? A small piece of herself bubbles up and you're running with your tail im between your legs. It's a shame because I was cheering you on."

Vixen opens his mouth, finding words to argue back but having nothing to say at all. The number of times he's paced back and forth in the hall gathering the strength to knock on her door.

"I still... Like her."

"Like what about her? The idea you have of her?"

"I-"

"It's been over half a year and you still barely know a thing about her. Astaroth is already way ahead of you now."

"Astaroth? What do you mean he's ahead of me!?"

"I heard from my lover at the inn, he looks at her like she's the only thing that matters."

"He likes Clarissa too?"

The man falls into silence. His mind telling himself to let go and give Astaroth the chance. She deserves someone who won't fear any part of her and act like a coward. But Astaroth didn't make any attempts to see Clarissa either?

"I'll have Katherine go check up on Clarissa." He finally responds, confident in his decision.

"That is honestly the worst idea you've had. You know she doesn't like Katherine right?"

"Everyone knows. But I do not deserve to see her right now, and I don't want it to be Astaroth or Orias either."

Peter sighs. He is going to make a decision hard on himself, but he still has a sense of justice. Sometimes. Not that it really mattered.

"I'll be the one to talk to her then. You're not thinking straight right now and I won't let the situation escalate." He scurries off, leaving Vixen to reflect.

What they didn't know, was that Astaroth was listening to the entire conversation. His stealthy movement made it easy for him to eavesdrop and more than occasionally, steal money from Orias.

"Now it's a race to Clarissa's room." Astaroth whispers to himself and runs to the direction of the lady's room.

His reasons for not going to see her earlier was just more mental exhaustion and physical exhaustion than usual.

As for the duke, he couldn't care less so he didn't even think to check up on her.

Thinking he'd easily reach Clarissa first, by the time her room is in sight the rat is also seen running there from the opposite end of the hall.

It's like he expected me?

The two come to a halt, both reaching the door at the same time.

"I had a feeling you were listening."

"Not even the stealthy old me can go invisible when you're around." His pose relaxes, accepting the draw as a defeat. "So are we going to play rock paper scissors for who gets to talk Clarissa into coming out of her hole or?"

"Nope. Go right ahead." Peter motions to the door.

"You aren't even going to try to fight for it?"

"Why? We're literally comrades."

"Thanks..." Astaroth places his hand on the door knob reluctantly.

"Now I can go have my afternoon nap." The rat yawns and skips away happily. He really didn't care about who would go talk to Clarissa, as long as it wasn't going to be Katherine.

"Clarissa?" Three knocks, and another ten seconds of waiting before Astaroth entered her room. She lays on her bed with her arms stretched out.

It was like she was lost in a daydream.

"Are you okay?" He creeps up, until his figure towers over her.

"I've finally given it some thought. I'm sorry, but I don't think I can return your feelings at this time." Clarissa nonchalantly blurts out.

"Huh?"

"I'm rejecting you."

"I think I know that but..."

"I am unfit to be in any relationship."

"I don't think so..."

She still lays there, flat like a fish on land that gave up.

"I didn't come here to confess, Clarissa. And I'm not here for us to talk about that either. I haven't seen your face in two weeks, I've been worried."

"You could've checked up on me earlier." She shoves her head under the pillow, hiding just her head for the comfort of not seeing him stand there awkwardly.

For once, she couldn't hide behind her stone face. The loneliness couldn't cower.

"I'm sorry. Do you mind joining us at the dining area during mealtimes again?"

"The others might be afraid of me though."

"No one is, I promise." He lifts the pillow and sets it aside. "Also, have you been thinking about how to reject me this entire time?"

"That was one of the things, yes."

"Thanks for being considerate of my feelings."

Clarissa nods her head. They sit there in silence, looking at the random spots on the wall.

"So you said you can't return my feelings at this time. Does that mean you aren't completely turning me down?"

"You're right... I'm not sure."

He blinks. Her responses felt like a puzzle to him. Not sure? How can she be not sure? Not sure how? What kind of not sure?

"Not sure?"

"Yeah."