Please Forget Me - Chapter 166

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

“I couldn’t think of anything else.”

“Think, huh…”

Johann made things even more confusing and then pressed his lips to mine, as if to stop me from asking further. I couldn’t ask anymore.

“Could it really be that you couldn’t think of anything else?”

He’s the type of man who spontaneously writes poetry for me. And because he knows so much, he can easily engage in long discussions for over an hour on any topic the Principal brings up.

But he says he couldn’t think of anything?

I don’t understand why, when he had to write something on patriotism, he chose to use a love letter instead. Both are forms of love, but how did he even think to combine patriotism and affection like that?

Of all the love letters he wrote to me, wouldn’t it have been better to just write something new for the occasion instead of using something like a love letter?

‘Maybe nothing came to his mind at that moment.’

I don’t understand, but it’s not important enough to dwell on. What’s more pressing now is the man who, noticing I was distracted during our kiss, desperately tried to draw me back in, kissing me more intensely, pulling me closer.

“Mmm…”

“Ha… uh…”

“Mmm…”

As I gave in, I too found myself hopelessly falling into the kiss. Before I knew it, we were tangled up, forgetting what we were even doing, until we collapsed onto the bed.

“Mr. Renner! Time to go!”

We heard the Principal’s call from outside the window. Our heavy breaths finally calmed, and the sound of a carriage being brought to us reached my ears.

Johann reluctantly pulled away from my lips and sighed.

“We’ll finish this tonight. All the way through.”

If the Principal ever saw a man who didn’t regret missing a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for success, but was this upset about being momentarily apart from me, he might just hit his chest again.

* * *

Johann didn’t keep his promise to finish things tonight. Even when Thomas’s lesson was over and evening had come, he didn’t return home.

He never mentioned being late. What could have happened?

‘…Could it be that they found out he’s a deserter?’

“I need to go look for Johann. Could you please lend me a carriage?”

“At this late hour? It’s too dangerous. I’ll go and check on him myself.”

I had planned to go to the bunker, but thankfully, the Principal went to check for me instead. Nearly two hours later, when he returned, the news he brought was completely unexpected.

“Mr. Renner was called by a high-ranking official.”

…A high-ranking official?

The Principal smiled contentedly, thinking it was good news, but I couldn’t bring myself to smile.

Even though I knew where he had gone, I couldn’t stop worrying. I paced around the room, glancing nervously through the thick curtains that shielded the light, and before long, I lost track of how long I had been waiting.

“Johann!”

“I’m sorry for being so late without saying anything.”

Johann returned, looking exhausted, only when it was late enough to rest. He grabbed my face and kissed me, then collapsed onto the bed like a man who had been drinking heavily.

His breath didn’t smell of alcohol when he kissed me. He must be really tired.

“You should take off your clothes before sleeping.”

While I sat beside him, slowly unbuttoning his vest and tie, Johann was holding his head in his hands.

“Do you have a headache?”

“Just… I think I’ve been thinking too much.”

“I’ll get you some medicine.”

“No need.”

“But you told me not to hold back on medicine. Ah!”

As I stood up, Johann suddenly grabbed my wrist. He pulled me close, wrapping his arms around me tightly and sighed deeply.

“I don’t need anything, just you…”

It didn’t seem like he was saying he didn’t need painkillers. He was likely referring to what had happened before he got home.

“What happened?”

“The Prime Minister’s public relations’s office came looking for me.”

As expected, it was a high-ranking official.

“I guess the speech went well this week.”

“It’s ridiculous that people are willing to give their lives for the country, all because of a love letter written by a country bumpkin to his wife.”

Johann’s face twisted in distress, and he rubbed his forehead before explaining what had happened at the press office.

“They wanted me to write more speeches. The prime minister himself will read them and decide if he’ll keep me as a ghostwriter.”

“You already rejected it, didn’t you?”

We need to leave this place.

“They don’t care about my decision.”

“My God… so you were writing the speech all this time?”

“If I had just written it the way I had been, three hours would have been enough…”

Johann said it took five hours because he had to intentionally write terribly to make sure he was rejected. If he had written badly on purpose, it would have been too obvious.

So, he chose phrases that sounded good on the surface but were dry and dull beneath, a piece of work that seemed impressive but lacked substance.

It wouldn’t have taken five hours, but he stretched it out on purpose. If he had worked too fast, it would have been suspicious. Apparently, the public relations’s officer had been peering over his shoulder, clicking his tongue and asking if he was still not done.

“So, I’m sure I was rejected.”

“You did well. That’s fortunate.”

He didn’t say it was fortunate.

The next day, Johann was called back to the public relations’s office.

“They didn’t like it.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?”

“Not at all. General Hildebrandt stepped in and said I was too nervous when I was suddenly called in and couldn’t write properly. He told them to give me another chance.”

“Why is the General getting involved in your affairs? You didn’t even ask to be the prime minister’s writer.”