Chapter 39
Still, she was too sleepy to do anything about it, whether by mouth or otherwise. Besides, she had only just realized how warm another person’s body could feel.
Maybe it was his faintly sweet scent. It made her vision blur and her mind pleasantly hazy. If she fell asleep like this, she felt certain she’d have good dreams.
Dante quietly muttered as he gazed down at Hansel.
“No.”
“Mmh. Alright, then… I’ll just sleep like this…”
Hansel mumbled sleepily, nestling herself deeper into his arms. For a while, only the sound of their breathing, warmed by the shared heat, filled the space. Hansel’s breaths grew increasingly steady and rhythmic.
Dante fell into quiet contemplation.
It was another first.
Sleeping beside someone. Not even in the far-off memories of his early childhood had he ever experienced this.
Dante thought Hansel was remarkable. How could this small woman, despite having no memories, show him so many firsts every day? She was far smarter than him, even though he had his memories intact.
Watching her steady breathing felt like a rainbow settling in his heart. At the same time, he had an inexplicable urge to wake her up just to talk a little longer. As he looked at the round crown of her head, a soft feeling of yearning swirled in his chest.
***
‘…I really need to have s*x with him now.’
The orange and golden hues of the fireplace flickered over Hansel’s small face. While the scene appeared peaceful and pastoral, her mind was in chaos, as if a million porcelain pieces were shattering simultaneously.
Hansel sat on the couch in front of the living room fireplace, wrapped in a fluffy wool robe, sipping hot chocolate topped with marshmallows from a cup made of cookies. Naturally, Dante had made it for her.
She slurped her hot chocolate and casually bit off a piece of the cup’s rim. It was crispy and delicious.
At that moment, the living room door clicked open. Turning to look, Hansel saw Dante entering. She blinked.
“Doing laundry? This time you’re doing it yourself?”
“Yeah.”
Beside Dante floated a basket piled high with soft, white bedding. Hansel stared at the basket curiously before sneaking in a question.
“Can I come along to watch?”
“Sure.”
The door opened and closed once more, this time letting in a long, pastel-pink robe. It was a new winter robe Dante had made for Hansel.
Hansel climbed off the sofa and stretched. Tossing the cookie cup into the air, she watched it obediently float into the fireplace. As she extended her arms, the winter robe slipped itself onto her body as if it had a mind of its own.
Stepping out into the garden, Hansel felt the crisp air tickle her nose and throat. She tilted her head back to gaze at the vivid blue sky, the winter chill oddly invigorating.
After taking in the view, she followed Dante to the backyard where the laundry lines were set up. While Dante hung the laundry, Hansel wandered around the garden.
The gingerbread fence, once strange and fascinating, was now familiar. She found the ants scurrying through its gaps far more intriguing.
“You all work so hard.”
A line of worker ants carried their loads, weaving their way out of the garden.
“Come here,” Dante’s low voice called from behind her.
Hansel turned to see Dante standing with the laundry basket tucked under one arm, his gaze fixed on the gingerbread fence. She glanced at the fence briefly before trotting obediently toward him.
Dante set the basket beneath the laundry line and conjured a chair with a flick of magic. This time, it was a new biscuit-shaped chair he had crafted.
“Sit here.”
Like the past few days, Hansel perched quietly on the chair, watching Dante hang the laundry. Her gaze soon wandered back to the gingerbread fence.
Dante always seemed unusually alert when near that part of the fence.
‘Could it be a gate?’
She couldn’t test the theory with him watching, nor could she ask him outright. Restless, Hansel swung her legs idly before shifting her attention back to Dante.
“Dante, I have a question.”
Dante, in the middle of stretching a white bedsheet along the line, paused and turned toward her.
“Why do you use magic for some things and do others by hand? What’s your reasoning or criteria?”
Hansel had learned how to phrase her questions to extract the most information from Dante in one go. She was becoming adept at handling his curt way of speaking.
Dante gestured toward the sheet with his chin.
“Things that are fun to do by hand. Like your sheets.”
“So, the things I use are fun for you to make by hand?”
“I care a lot about what’s mine.”
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