Chapter 16
After pulling out the documents and setting down the briefcase, I straightened my back. Then, with a more serious expression than ever, I faced Herace.
We had to go over every detail of our contract relationship.
“Article 1, Purpose. During the period of this relationship, the foremost priority is to restore the honor and reputation of Filena Light through mutual cooperation, while also fulfilling Herace Gray’s sense of ‘fun.’ Although we agreed to take inspiration from romance novels, this may change depending on circumstances, and both parties must cooperate. However, under no circumstances should either party engage in behavior that might make the other uncomfortable just because it’s a contractual relationship.”
Herace crossed his legs and nodded. Meeting my gaze, he reacted calmly. That’s when I asked the crucial question.
“What we need to clarify today is Herace’s criteria for ‘fun.’”
“The criteria for fun, huh. Is that even measurable?”
“Emotions are difficult to define rationally, I know. But since this is a contractual relationship, we need to establish it clearly. On this, I cannot compromise.”
“If my girlfriend is being that firm, then sure.”
Herace rested his chin in his hand as if it weren’t a big deal. Earlier he’d implied such things couldn’t be measured, and yet now he acted like it was simple. Truly unpredictable. That’s why we absolutely needed a written contract as proof.
“I thought about it in advance, so I’ve listed some possible elements that could fulfill this ‘fun.’”
“Oh? Now I’m curious.”
Herace’s lips curled upward, a bright smile spreading.
“Why are you just staring? Aren’t you going to tell me quickly?”
“Because silence builds anticipation.”
Buoyed by his reaction, I chuckled softly and cleared my throat.
When making contracts, emotions must be hidden. That’s how you avoid being used and get what you want.
From the stack of papers on the desk, I pushed one toward Herace. When he tried to rotate it so we could view it together, I stopped him.
“I prepared a copy for myself as well. Don’t worry.”
His lower lip stretched into a pout. Maybe he sensed the shift in atmosphere, because he dropped his gaze, avoiding me.
Good. Maybe I looked intimidating. That was reassuring.
“Herace, you may not know this, but humans have something called a ‘language of love.’”
“So there’s such a thing as a love language. Had no idea.”
In my previous life, I was deeply interested in human psychology and had eagerly studied ‘love languages.’ I even encouraged people to take the test to spread awareness of it.
The sheet in front of Herace was that very test. I’d already taken it several times and knew my results. Only he needed to do it now.
Glancing over the sheet, Herace twirled his quill and asked,
“Care to explain this ‘love language’ in detail, Filena?”
Instead of answering, I pointed to his test.
“The first language is Words of Affirmation. These are people who feel loved when they hear expressions like ‘I love you,’ ‘You did well,’ or ‘There’s no one but you for me.’ It doesn’t have to be spoken—it could be written in a letter too. As long as it’s language, it counts.”
“Oh yeah? Filena, I love you.”
Herace lifted his head and smiled lightly, almost playfully.
“Filena, thank you. There’s no one but you for me. Without you, I wouldn’t be who I am now.”
I suddenly realized his red eyes looked different from Wisler’s. Wisler’s gaze hadn’t fazed me, but looking at Herace sometimes made me feel as if time had stopped.
Maybe it was just that I wasn’t used to the subtle difference in their color tones. Still, one thing was certain—his eyes were beautiful. Beautiful—
“Filena? What are you thinking, making that face?”
“Oh—uh, right. Let’s move on to the second language. The second is Quality Time. It doesn’t matter what you’re doing together, only that you’re sharing time and focusing on each other.”
“My time, you can have it all, Filena.”
“…Right. The third language is Receiving Gifts. These are people who feel loved through tangible tokens. But it’s not just about material things. What matters is the thought, effort, and sincerity behind the gift.”
I snuck a glance at Herace’s answers. Seeing he was finished, I sped up my explanation.
“What matters is the thought you had of me while choosing it, the effort you put in, the wrapping, the sincerity embedded inside. When I know that the gift was entirely a journey just for me—that’s when people feel love.”
“I could buy you everything, Filena.”
“I just said it’s not about buying things.”
“But whether I think about it or not—doesn’t that part not matter?”
Herace scribbled with his quill without looking up.
“After all, the only thing I think about every day is my girlfriend.”
“That’s… impossible.”
“Do you know what makes the impossible possible?”
Before I could answer, his voice flowed smoothly.
“It’s called love, Filena.”
He slid the paper toward me, gesturing for me to review his love language test.
He’d finished already, even as I was still explaining. It had taken me at least thirty minutes.
I began to suspect he might’ve rushed through it, but just before I could check, Herace spoke first.
“The fourth love language is Acts of Service—when someone shows love through actions done for you.”
No, he hadn’t rushed. He was simply a genius. That was literally what I’d written at the bottom of the test sheet as explanation. He’d even had time to skim through it.
“Like helping me when I struggle with paperwork, or doing house chores if I can’t. When someone voluntarily takes action for me, that’s when love is felt.”
“That’s me.”
“…Sorry?”
“That’s exactly what I’m doing now. You’re struggling to regain your footing in society, and that’s why we’re staging this play, isn’t it?”
“Unfortunately, I think you misunderstood.”
“You’re right. On second thought, since this is contractual, it doesn’t count. Am I right?”
I nodded vigorously. Then Herace moved on to the final language.
“The fifth is Physical Touch, isn’t it?”
“Yes. It refers to people who feel love most through consensual physical contact—holding hands, kissing, intimacy, and so on.”
“Yeah. That’s mine.”
Herace tapped the back of my hand. Then, like a cat, he rubbed against it with his fingers.
“Maybe my love language really is touch.”
The moment those words ended, his fingers slipped into the spaces between mine, playing with them.
I thought of pulling my hand away, but since I didn’t feel uncomfortable, I decided to just finish analyzing his answers. Meanwhile, he drummed his fingers on the back of my hand like a piano.
“…That’s not quite right. Love languages aren’t limited to just one—they’re ranked by priority.”
I slid the analyzed sheet back toward him. His results were neatly listed from first to fifth.
“Your primary love language is Quality Time. Second is Acts of Service. Third is Physical Touch. Fourth is Words of Affirmation. Fifth is Receiving Gifts.”
“And you? What about yours?”
“For me, first is Quality Time. Second is Receiving Gifts—though both are pretty close. Third is Words of Affirmation. Fourth is Acts of Service. Fifth is Physical Touch.”
“So we’re quite different.”
“That’s fine. The point of mine was to make you understand that I’m not very comfortable with physical affection and tend to be startled by it. What really matters is your result. This was all done to fulfill your sense of ‘fun.’”
