Victoria had been feeling like something was a bit off with her lately.
Sometimes, her chest would suddenly feel tight, as if something was weighing on her heart. It was hard to describe or explain, but the sensation was undeniably real.
She thoroughly disliked this feeling.
She had always been a straightforward person who said what was on her mind and vented whatever emotions she had. She had never bottled up her frustration like this for no apparent reason, completely at a loss for how to handle it.
After some experimentation over the past few days, she had come to the sole solution that could alleviate this mood: as long as she didn't see Greg, the symptoms would ease.
Although she didn't understand the underlying logic, she figured that as long as it worked, that was all that mattered.
So, Victoria picked up her brush from the ground, turned around, and headed back.
She reasoned that if she threw herself entirely into her busy work, she wouldn't have to deal with this feeling anymore.
She quickened her pace, trying to dispel the annoyance in her heart through sheer activity.
But—
“What's wrong, Little Gray? You seem a bit out of sorts.”
Greg, carrying that massive pile of building materials, actually caught up with quick strides and walked steadily beside her.
The load on his back had to weigh at least dozens of pounds, yet his steps remained light and breezy.
With such an absurd physical constitution, she honestly wondered if this guy was even human.
Victoria spared him a sideways glance, her tone cold. “Stay away from me. I don't want to talk to an idiot like you.”
Greg didn't mind in the slightest. Instead, he grinned and leaned in a bit closer.
“Oh? What's that supposed to mean? Don't tell me you've forgotten that we're the Twin Stars of Low Mountains and Foul Waters? Why are you suddenly turning your nose up at me?”
Victoria's mind involuntarily conjured up the scene from that night, where Greg had publicly declared in the skies above the Imperial Capital, “Wendy is mine.”
Those words felt like a tiny thorn pricking an indescribable spot in her heart, causing another wave of tightness.
She let out a cold snort and turned her head away.
“Who's your twin star? Can you stop acting like we're so close!”
With that, she ignored him completely. Stepping quickly to a wall that needed repairing, she climbed the ladder, picked up her brush, and began painting with absolute focus, using her actions to declare: I am not talking to you.
Greg stood where he was, scratching his head as he watched Victoria.
He realized she seemed genuinely angry, but he couldn't quite fathom why.
It couldn't possibly be because she saw me acting so close to other women and got jealous, right?
Hah, don't make me laugh. How could Victoria ever be jealous over me?
After all, my favorability rating in her heart is probably lower than a gold coin she might randomly find lying on the street.
Greg chuckled self-deprecatingly, then carefully recalled what had just happened.
He noticed that Victoria had started acting off right around the time Vivian was wiping his sweat.
He pondered it for a moment and came up with a theory:
Could it be because they were both doing hard labor, but while he had someone to wipe his sweat, no one was acknowledging her hard work? Was she feeling a bit of a psychological imbalance?
“Hmm, if that's the case, I know how to cheer her up.”
With that in mind, Greg temporarily set down the materials on his back, took off the towel draped around his neck, and walked up behind Victoria.
Meanwhile, Victoria was painting the wall while silently cursing Greg in her mind.
That idiot, that bastard, that wretched scumbag! He makes me unhappy every single time we meet, and he always acts so completely innocent. What an annoying guy!
The more she thought about it, the angrier she became, and the harder she pressed down. The brush made sharp, rhythmic scraping sounds against the wall, as if she were painting directly onto Greg's face.
Just then, a towel suddenly descended from above, draping over her head and completely covering her face.
Immediately after, a hand began to rub her head through the towel with just the right amount of pressure—as if wiping away her sweat, or perhaps like petting a grumpy kitten.
From behind her came that irritating, vexing voice: “My good Junior Sister has worked so hard. Since no one else is going to reward you, your Senior Brother will do it himself.”
Victoria's movements froze.
She knew exactly who this person was.
After all, there was only one person in this world who would call her 'Junior Sister,' and he happened to be the exact same person who called her 'Little Gray.'
Victoria's voice drifted out from beneath the towel, carrying a chilly edge:
“Hey. What do you think you're doing?”
This unfriendly tone prompted Greg to release his grip on the towel and take two steps back. “Uh... rewarding you. You don't like it?”
“...”
Victoria fell silent for a moment.
The towel draped over her head was just a plain white one, and it even carried the faint scent of Greg's sweat. She wrinkled her nose in slight disgust, but...
For some reason, she felt the tightness in her chest easing up significantly compared to before.
The corners of her lips curled up into a tiny, involuntary smile, though she quickly and forcefully suppressed it.
Who would be happy because of this guy? What if he gets the wrong idea!
Victoria pulled the towel off her head and tossed it back to Greg. Her tone was full of distaste, but it was noticeably less icy than before:
“Who do you think you are? I don't need your rewards. It stinks!”
Although her words were full of complaints, Greg could easily tell from her tone that her mood had improved considerably.
This made him even more certain of his hypothesis—indeed, Victoria was simply feeling a psychological imbalance.
Who would've thought she'd act like a child who needs to be coaxed?
Greg shook his head, hoisted the heavy pile of materials onto his back once more, and walked over to the ladder.
“Alright, alright. Your Senior Brother knows you don't need to be rewarded. In that case, could you let me use the ladder for a moment? I'm worried that if I jump straight up, I'll collapse this newly repaired house under my weight.”
Victoria shifted her body. Greg thought she was climbing down to make room, but she merely scooted to the side, freeing up half of the step.
Then, she extended her hand toward him. “I'll help steady you. It would be bad if you dropped the things you're carrying.”
Greg looked at her outstretched hand and smiled. “And here I thought you were starting to feel bad for me.”
He chuckled and took her hand.
He had expected her hand to be calloused from long-term training, but to his surprise, it felt remarkably soft, warm, and smooth.
With Victoria's support, Greg steadily climbed up the ladder.
Meanwhile, Victoria suddenly turned her face away, her gaze landing on the distant streetscape as if there were something exceptionally fascinating over there.
Absolutely no one noticed the faint, almost imperceptible blush dusting her cheeks.
Rate on N.U.
