The Villainess Wants to Resign From Love

Step one: breathe.
Step two: do not die from fluster.
Step three: avoid making eye contact with the brooding Duke who is literally radiating jealousy and danger.

Internal monologue: HAHAHAHAHAHA. Step one failed immediately.

The library was quiet... too quiet.

After Seraphine Aurelia and Caelum had left for palace matters and temple duties, it was just me... and Ronan.

Internal monologue: SILENCE. DANGER. HEART: 10,000 BPM.

He leaned casually against the bookshelf, pretending to read a manuscript. Pretending. Like the broody disaster he was.

Internal monologue: PRETENDING. PRETENDING TO BE CALM. I AM DEAD.

I tried to concentrate on my notes. Herbal extracts. Medicinal formulas. Rational science. Anything to distract myself from the looming male lead of doom.

Internal monologue: Focus, Viera. Professionalism. DO NOT MELT INTO A HUMAN PUDDLE.

Naturally, that didn't last five seconds.

Ronan shifted slightly closer.

Internal monologue: ALERT. HE'S CLOSER. HEART: MELTING. EMOTIONAL VARIABLES: UNCONTROLLED.

I tried to step back — and promptly tripped over a stack of scrolls.

Internal monologue: I AM OFFICIALLY A DISASTER HUMAN. PLEASE SEND HELP.

He caught me. Hands brushing mine. Eyes dark and intense.

Internal monologue: THREE POINTS OF CONTACT. ALERT. ALERT. ALERT. HEART: MELTING. I AM DEAD.

I opened my mouth to say something rational.

"I-I'm... fine. Totally fine. Notes... safe... everything..."

He didn't speak. Just held me steady. His gaze was quiet, simmering, dangerous — the kind that makes rational thought evaporate.

Internal monologue: DO NOT FAINT. DO NOT MELT. DO NOT SPONTANEOUSLY COMBUST. MY HEART IS UNDER SIEGE.

Then, disaster of disasters, a rogue feather floated from a nearby tapestry and landed on my shoulder.

Internal monologue: THIS IS IT. THIS IS THE END. I AM DOOMED.

Ronan reached to brush it off. Fingers just barely touching my arm.

Internal monologue: ALERT. HEART: CRITICAL. FLUSTER INDEX: MAXIMUM. I AM DEAD.

I tried to regain composure by focusing on my notes.

"S-so... the extracts... uh..."

Internal monologue: DO NOT LOOK AT HIM. DO NOT LOOK AT HIS FACE. DO NOT LOOK AT HIS LIPS. DO NOT LOOK AT HIS LIPS.

He didn't answer, just observed. And oh, his observation? Dangerously intimate.

Internal monologue: THIS IS TORTURE. I AM MELTING. I AM DEAD.

Ronan's jaw flexed. Nostrils flared slightly. His dark eyes... they were dangerous, like storm clouds about to burst.

Internal monologue: WHY IS HE SO ATTRACTIVE? WHY DOES THIS HURT MY HEART? WHY DOES BREATHING FEEL IMPOSSIBLE?

I tried to take notes. Failed. The pen slipped, rolling across the floor.

"I-I'll get it!" I stammered.

Internal monologue: TOO CLOSE. TOO DANGEROUS. I AM DEAD.

Ronan's hand reached — again — to stop me from bending all the way down. Hands brushed. Heart... exploded.

Internal monologue: ALERT. ALERT. ALERT. EMOTIONAL DISASTER: IN PROGRESS.

For one heartbeat, we froze.

The room was quiet. Just the sound of our breathing. His dark gaze locked on mine.

Internal monologue: HE SEES EVERYTHING. HE KNOWS EVERYTHING. I AM OFFICIALLY A FAILURE.

And then... he leaned slightly closer, enough that I could feel the faint warmth from his chest.

"You're... different," he said softly.

Internal monologue: WHAT DOES THAT MEAN? IS THIS... KILIG? I AM DEAD.

I opened my mouth to respond. Words failed. My brain short-circuited.

Internal monologue: DO NOT SAY ANYTHING STUPID. DO NOT FAINT. DO NOT MELT INTO A PUDDLE OF SHAME.

By the time I finally pulled myself together, my hair was a mess, my notes were scattered, and my heart was... well, let's just say Millie would file it under "total emotional disaster."

Ronan didn't move, didn't speak. Just... stood there, silently letting the storm of fluster and unspoken tension hang between us.

Internal monologue: I HATE EVERYTHING. I LOVE EVERYTHING. I AM OFFICIALLY DOOMED.