The Villainess Should NOT Outshine the Main Protagonist!

Chapter 13: A New Friend?

Life at the academy still seemed lonely and distant... But one thing did change. Ethan, the timid strategist, didn't seem to mind chatting with me.

"Hey, Evelyn... would you be interested in going to the library to talk?" Ethan asked, his voice trailing off slightly as if the very act of making the suggestion was stepping out of his comfort zone. His gaze briefly met mine before darting away, settling on the worn tiles of the academy's grand hallway.

It was unusual for me to be invited with no particular reason. The few times I was invited by someone was for a specific reason. From the sound of it, Ethan's invitation seemed devoid of any agenda—a concept that was as refreshing as it was bewildering to me.

My mind scrambled momentarily, parsing his words. "To talk... about studying?" I asked, my tone more direct than intended.

His reaction was immediate, a slight widening of his eyes, a pause that spoke of surprise. "Um, well, yes, studying... and maybe just to talk? About anything, really," he stumbled over the words, each one a leap of faith.

"Oh, so you wanted to talk about books with me?"

The question seemed to catch Ethan off guard, his expression flickering between confusion and amusement. "Not just books, Evelyn," he said, a gentle chuckle softening his words. "I mean, we can talk about books if you want. But I was thinking we could also talk about... I don't know, life? Hobbies? Anything that's not strictly related to our studies."

I pondered his suggestion for a moment before coming to a consensus. "That sounds... interesting. Sure, I'd go to the library with you."

+++

As we approached the library, I couldn't help but marvel at the architecture that housed centuries of knowledge. The grand facade of the building, with its towering columns and intricate carvings, seemed to whisper stories of the past. The massive oak doors, polished by time and touch, opened into a world where silence and books reigned supreme.

Stepping inside, the awe-inspiring sight of the vaulted ceilings and rows upon rows of bookshelves filled me with a profound sense of reverence. It was so much better than its in-game counterpart. In fact, no amount of computer graphics could replicate the atmosphere and beauty.

Ethan led the way to a secluded corner, a quiet nook where we settled into the comfortable chairs.

And then, an awkward silence enveloped us. The initial enthusiasm that had carried us to this place seemed to dissipate, leaving us in a bubble of hesitation and uncertain glances. The air between us was charged with the potential of words unspoken, yet neither of us seemed able to breach the gap.

Ethan fidgeted with the edge of a book on the table, his gaze fixed on its cover as if it held the key to breaking the silence. I, on the other hand, found myself tracing the intricate woodwork of the chair, the detailed patterns a welcome distraction from the growing unease.

...

...

In the midst of this silence, a thought—one that had been simmering in the back of my mind for quite some time—suddenly found its way to the surface. The way he seemed to fearlessly approach me, seek casual conversation with me...

It was a question I knew he would say 'no' to, but I asked anyway.

"Ethan, do you think I'm the demon king?" I questioned, allowing my gaze to drop slightly.

"Umm, isn't the demon king a well, king? Like literally a guy I mean." Ethan's reply was blunt yet hesitant, his tone laced with confusion and a hint of amusement.

"Right, It's a silly question, isn't it?" I began to shake my head at the thought, "But a lot of students seem to believe it... If I was a clueless student I'd probably believe it too. I mean the dark magic, level 100 status, and the dark hair..."

"I'm aware of the black hair stigma too, I resent it, really."

After caressing his hair for a moment he continued, "In grade school, I used to be bullied for my light gray-colored hair. The other students would tease me and say that my hair looked blackish, like the color of storm clouds before a heavy rain, as if that was a bad thing. They thought it meant I was bad luck or destined for a grim future.

"The color of storm clouds... that actually sounds pretty cool," I remarked, surprising myself with the sincerity in my voice. "It's unique, and it sets you apart."

Ethan's eyes lit up, a spark of something like relief and happiness dancing in them. "Thanks, Evelyn. I've always been an insecure person but seeing you wear your black hair so proudly, not letting it define you or hold you back... it's inspiring."

His words struck a chord within me. I had never considered my appearance as something that could inspire others. To me, my dark hair was just a burden, a villainess's curse of sorts. Yet, here was Ethan, seeing it as a symbol of strength.

"Thank you, Ethan. That means a lot to me," I found myself saying, warmth spreading through me. His words brought an unexpected sense of validation, a subtle but significant shift in how I viewed myself. Normally, I'd deflect or downplay such remarks, but Ethan's genuineness made it difficult to do so.

He seemed to gather a bit more courage, his next words carrying a weight of sincerity. "And, it's not just about not letting it hold you back. Your hair, it's... it's actually beautiful." His voice was quieter this time, and when our eyes met, I noticed a gentle earnestness in his gaze, his cheeks tinged with a soft blush.

I felt my own face heat up in response, an unfamiliar fluttering sensation in my stomach. "Thank you," was all I managed to say, my voice barely above a whisper. This was new territory for me, dealing with compliments that delved beyond superficialities or skills.

There was an undeniable warmth in Ethan's gaze, a depth that suggested his words were more than just polite flattery. It made me reconsider the narrative I'd spun around myself, the one where I was just a character playing a part. Maybe, just maybe, I was more than the sum of my abilities or the darkness of my hair.

The conversation flowed more freely after that, as if that one exchange had knocked down walls I hadn't even realized were there. We talked about everything and nothing, from the mundane to the magical, and for a few precious hours, the weight of titles and rumors seemed to lift.

Leaving the library later that evening, I couldn't help but feel a shift in the air between us. There was a newfound ease, a gentle understanding. Ethan's compliment lingered in my mind, not just for its words but for the earnestness behind them.

Perhaps I found my first genuine friend.