I Proposed to My Childhood Friend After Regressing - Chapter 101

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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After My Regression, I Proposed to My Childhood Friend
Episode 101
‘What…?’
What, what, what, what…? Really?
Beatrice’s eyelashes trembled as she stared at Clyde’s face mere inches from her own.
‘What is happening right now?!’
She kept repeating the same thought over and over, though silence would have been stranger still.
Because right now, Clyde Dalton was about to kiss her.
‘This is… it is happening, right?’
Faced with a scenario she’d never imagined—something so utterly unreal—Beatrice found herself doubting her own senses.
‘Could he just be trying to blow something out of my eye? Something like that, maybe?’
No. It couldn’t be.
There was no mistaking it—not when he had his eyes shut, his hands cradling her cheeks, his body bent close to hers. This was unmistakably a kiss.
Her heart hammered wildly at the razor-thin distance between them; the slightest tilt of her chin and their lips would touch.
She couldn’t tell anymore whether her heart was racing because of the handsome face she’d see the moment she opened her eyes, or because she’d finally admitted to herself that she loved him—
—but just as she was about to reflexively close her eyes again, uncertain what to do,
“…Ah.”
He froze. A small sound escaped him, as though his mind had only just caught up, and then he simply collapsed, crumpling into a squat.
He practically slid down.
“Ugh…”
With one hand covering his face, he hung his head low, a moan seeping through his fingers.
From the nape of his neck down to the tips of his ears, everything visible had turned a brilliant red.
Beatrice had barely begun to recognize her own budding love, and seeing him so flustered made her own face flush in sympathy.
‘Why did he do it, and now he’s the one who’s embarrassed…!’
Why was he like this, really!
She blinked rapidly, then caught her lower lip between her teeth.
Falling in love, she realized, only multiplied your worries and doubts—and for a moment, she wondered if he’d simply been swept up in emotion, acting without thought.
But before she could finish that thought, Clyde reached up and grabbed the front of her collar.
As if to say he didn’t want to let her go, not even now.
The tangle of thoughts in her head cleared instantly.
The fact that he’d grabbed her collar—not her hand, not her wrist—spoke volumes all on its own.
“…”
“…”
The position was awkward beyond measure, yet neither of them could bring themselves to move first.
Neither could speak.
More precisely: they didn’t speak because they couldn’t.
The air hovering between them was too sweet, too tender, too heavy with newness.
It took all their focus just to breathe consciously, to ignore the thundering of their own hearts.
How long passed this way?
Still crouched low, his legs showing no sign of numbness, Clyde carefully tilted his head up and peeked at her from below.
His eyes still held traces of the tears from moments before, and his expression had softened into something like a dejected puppy as he murmured quietly,
“…Sorry if I startled you.”
“…”
“I just… lost control for a moment.”
His eyelashes quivered with lingering embarrassment, and Beatrice’s mind spun into chaos once more.
‘…Why? Why did you lose control? Where in what I said did your emotions suddenly surge like that? No, wait—that’s not even the important part! No matter how strong your emotions are, what kind of lunatic suddenly wants to kiss their childhood friend out of nowhere?’
You… you…
‘Do you… like me too?’
Among the storm of thoughts triggered by his words, only one question circled silently in Beatrice’s mouth.
A wordless cry of a question—one she didn’t dare speak aloud.
And it seemed Clyde was in much the same state.
His lips opened and closed repeatedly, then closed again, showing clearly that his turmoil mirrored her own.
The sight of them both wrestling with the same emotion, both trapped in silence, struck her as so absurdly funny that Beatrice found herself blurting out words without thinking,
“…Clyde.”
“Y-yes?”
“Can I hit you?”
She had no intention of waiting for an answer.
Apparently spurred by his confusion, by the way his pupils darted nervously, Beatrice crouched down before him as well.
Their eyes were level once more.
She studied his handsome face feature by feature, drinking him in.
Cheeks flushed like ripened apples; breath slightly ragged; his brow furrowed minutely as though he couldn’t comprehend what she’d asked—and those eyes, still luminous as jewels, burned into her memory.
Gazing at him as though he were a work of art itself, Beatrice reached out and cradled his face in her hands.
Then, after a moment to steady herself, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his.
This time, her lips met his without hesitation—no tentative pause as before.
Warmth and softness brushed the corners of her mouth before she pulled away.
“…”
“…”
His expression was identical to her own just moments ago.
The instant she saw him frozen there, as though his mind had crashed under the weight of it all, Beatrice felt the reality of what she’d done slam into her.
‘Beatrice, did you really lose your mind?’
He’d only been trying to kiss her, and she’d been about to close her eyes—and she actually kissed him?
Her earlier thoughts came rushing back.
‘I admit I like Clyde Dalton, but what? I can’t picture myself holding hands with him, kissing him, whispering sweet nothings? Ah, so it’s still difficult, is it?
…But it’s only been—not even a full day!
Not even half a day has passed!
It was a thought meant for her alone, yet the shame of it made her want to crawl into a hole and disappear.
Now she understood why Clyde had collapsed so utterly, why he couldn’t lift his head.
The embarrassment had grown so intense that her head was swimming; Beatrice decided retreat was her only option.
“I… I should head home. To the Earl’s Residence.”
“What?”
Clyde’s eyes flew open at words he’d never expected to hear in a moment like this.
Beatrice spoke honestly, following the current of her thoughts wherever they led.
“Today, about ‘that’… I think I’ve said too much already. Too much. You get indigestion from eating too much, so couldn’t the same be true for words and feelings? And, and, and…'”
“…”
“I don’t know how you feel, but… I’m not confident right now.”
“Not confident about what…?”
“No! I mean—it’s not about my feelings…”
Her face burning with embarrassment at her own words, Beatrice whispered so quietly he could barely hear,
“…This is the Newlywed Residence. It’s just the two of us here today.”
“…”
No matter how she looked at it, this place and this air felt too dangerous tonight. In too many ways!
Hardly able to believe she was saying such things, Beatrice gripped her own head tightly with both hands.
Part of her wanted to confirm whether she was reading this situation correctly; another part wanted to run from the room entirely. And a third part still couldn’t believe any of this was real.
She couldn’t take it anymore. She stood abruptly and turned a hasty bow toward Clyde.
“G-get some good sleep! Let’s talk after we’ve both had time to think! Goodbye!”
“Beatrice, wait—!”
“…Huh?”
Just as she spun around to leave, her awkward farewell barely finished, Clyde caught her hand.
His luminous blue eyes gazed up at her gently.
He adjusted his grip on her hand properly, and keeping his eyes fixed on hers, he placed a gentlemanly kiss upon the back of her hand.
“Tomorrow. I’ll come for you tomorrow evening at six o’clock.”
“…”
“Please say yes.”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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