Chapter 42: Oil And Intent

"What?! There’s no need for that..."

"Master, aren’t you tired? My technique is fairly good. Let me help you relax!"

Haruka was somewhat confused. Could it be that Quillan was thin-skinned and couldn’t loosen up?

"Really no need, Haruka. I’m fine today, not really tired. Let’s just forget it?"

"But I’m already here, and I’ve prepared everything. Master, come on, let me repay you." Haruka felt this must be it—Quillan’s reserved personality made him embarrassed.

But she couldn’t be unreasonable. At a time like this, she needed to take the initiative and know how to be grateful.

As she spoke, she placed her hand on Quillan’s shoulder that was blocking the way and gave a gentle push.

Haruka headed straight for the bedroom. After a moment, she urged him to come inside.

Quillan had no choice. Things had come to this, so he steeled himself and walked into the bedroom.

The moment he stepped through the door, Haruka turned to face him and his breath caught in his throat.

She immediately took of her blouse. The fabric pooled at her feet, and she stood there in nothing but her bra, her full, generous breasts straining against the delicate lace. The soft curve of her cleavage was impossible to ignore, rising and falling with each nervous breath. Her skin glowed under the dim bedroom light, and a faint flush had crept up her neck to her cheeks.

"Haruka, what are you—"

"Master, let me take care of you," she whispered, stepping closer. Her fingers reached for the hem of his shirt, tugging it upward. "You’ve done so much for me. Let me repay you properly."

She pulled his shirt over his head before he could stop her. Then she reached for the bottle of massage oil on the nightstand, uncapped it, and poured a generous amount into her palm. The slick, fragrant liquid glistened as she rubbed her hands together, warming it.

"Just relax," she murmured, her voice soft and coaxing. "I’ll make you feel good."

Her oiled hands hovered toward his chest—

Quillan caught her wrists. "Haruka. Stop."

His voice was firm, but not cruel. He held her hands gently, keeping them away from his body.

Haruka froze. Her eyes widened, confusion and shame flickering across her face. "Master...?"

Quillan let out a slow breath. He released her wrists, then reached down and picked up her blouse from the floor. Without a word, he draped it over her shoulders, his fingers brushing her skin as he guided her arms back into the sleeves.

"Put this back on," he said quietly.

"B-But..."

"Haruka." He looked at her and his expression softened. "This isn’t what I want from you."

She stood there, half-dressed, her cheeks burning, her oiled hands still glistening at her sides. She didn’t know what to say. She’d been so certain, so sure she had read the situation correctly. And now...

"Haruka, let’s skip the massage oil. Let’s just do it tomorrow, okay? It’s so late now—you should get some rest."

"No need. Master, don’t worry about the trouble. I’ll wipe it clean for you with a hot towel afterwards. Come on!" Haruka stood by the bed, speaking with a smile, though her voice was a little less steady now.

"Really, no—"

"Oh, hurry up. Master..."

"Stop!" Quillan sternly refused, "Haruka, what’s wrong with you today? Why are you like this? Are you still the Haruka I respect? You’re making me very disappointed!"

"I..."

Seeing Quillan get angry, Haruka was at a loss.

She let go of Quillan’s hand, and for a moment didn’t know how to respond.

"Look at you, what kind of behavior is this? Haruka, I’m not trying to criticize you, but your thinking..."

"I... Master, I just wanted to repay you. Don’t be angry." Hearing Quillan’s reprimand, Haruka hung her head, not daring to look at him, only apologizing.

She felt extremely embarrassed, full of self-loathing, and stammered in explanation: "Master, to be honest, I... I may have misunderstood your care for me. Do you... not have that kind of feeling for me?"

"What feeling?" Quillan pretended not to know, and took the opportunity to sit down on the bed, grabbing a pillow to hug.

"That is... Master, do you really not have feelings for me? Then why did you help me so much?"

Haruka had also lost all sense of dignity. She simply said whatever was on her mind, laying everything out in the open and directly asking Quillan for an answer.

To be honest, this did give Quillan a headache.

He scratched his head in deep thought for a moment, then spoke:

"Haruka, I do like you!"

Haruka’s eyes widened. Her breath caught in her throat, and her face flushed a deep, burning red. She hadn’t expected him to say it so directly—so plainly.

"Master..."

"But," Quillan continued, his voice steady, "that feeling is pure. It’s not about profit, not about gain. I didn’t help you because I wanted something in return. I didn’t do any of this because I desire your body." He looked at her, his gaze honest and unwavering. "Do you understand?"

Haruka’s lips trembled. She lowered her head, her cheeks still burning, and gave a small, shy nod.

"I... I understand," she whispered.

A moment of silence passed between them. Then Haruka lifted her head, her eyes glistening with a mix of embarrassment and determination.

"But... but please, let me repay you somehow. I can’t just... I can’t just accept everything and give nothing back. Please, Master. Let me do something."

Quillan let out a long sigh. He could see she wasn’t going to let this go. Stubborn woman.

"Fine," he said at last. "Then... take a bath with me."

Haruka’s face somehow turned an even deeper shade of red. Her hands flew to her cheeks, and she stammered, "Th-That means... you want to..."

Quillan quickly raised a hand. "You just need to scrub my back for me. That’s all. I won’t look at your body. I promise."

Haruka stood there, frozen, her heart pounding so loudly she was sure he could hear it. But slowly, she nodded again.