Villain Ch 98. Excuses
"I want to talk about our equipment," Zoe said. There was a hint of uncertainty in her tone since it was only her excuse.
Allen took a sip of his tea and furrowed his brows in confusion. "Equipment in the game? Why do we need to talk about it here?" It was more suitable to be discussed in a group chat or even in the game itself along with others than in a coffee shop. Plus, it was just the two of them.
Zoe fidgeted in her seat, her eyes darting around the coffee shop nervously. "I-I just thought it would be easier to talk about it in person. You know, since we're both here and all."
Allen raised an eyebrow, studying her carefully. He knew there was something more to it, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. "Didn't we already talk about it in the game yesterday? We could use equipment from NPCs for a while until we find better ones," he said, looking at Zoe.
Their next equipment required them to kill players with certain criteria. Mostly with a certain level and equipped armor or certain weapons. From there they would get an item that was used to make new equipment and for the time being no one had it. So, they had to be patient.
Zoe suddenly looked uneasy. She had another reason for meeting up with Allen, but she wasn't sure how to bring it up. She wanted to spend time with him, just the two of them, but she wasn't sure if Allen felt the same way. So, she decided to bring up a game-related topic to ease into the conversation.
Seeing her nervous face, Allen immediately realized her intention. A smile appeared on his lips, and he put his elbow on the table, his head on his palm.
"If you just want an idle talk, you should just say so. I don't mind it," he said bluntly. He knew that Zoe was hiding something, but he didn't want to push her too hard.
"No, I don't want that," Zoe said quickly, her voice barely above a whisper. Her face flushed, and she looked down at her hands, which were clasped tightly in her lap.
Allen raised an eyebrow, sensing that there was something more to Zoe's visit than just idle chit-chat. "Then? What do you want?" he asked again in a casual tone, trying to put her at ease. He knew that Zoe was a little shy and introverted due to her mom's personality, and he didn't want to make her uncomfortable.
Her eyes darted back and forth, searching for a way to say what was on her mind. She couldn't help but feel nervous, her palms sweaty and her heart racing. She turned to Allen, who sat across from her and took a deep breath.
"My mom," she began, her voice shaking slightly. "She's not acting weird anymore. She seems better." It was only her excuse, of course.
Allen nodded slowly, taking a sip of his tea. "I know," he said, his voice calm and steady. "But she's still keeping her distance from me. I think she's afraid of me."
Zoe's eyes widened in surprise. "Afraid of you?" she repeated.
Allen nodded again. "I've discovered a side of herself that she never knew about," he explained. "And I think she's afraid of that side of me. Maybe it's because of her dignity and age. She feels awkward around me to be precise. I can understand that," he said bluntly.
Zoe's eyes widened even further. She had suspected it, of course, but to hear Allen speaking out loud was a shock. "You knew?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Allen nodded. "It's too obvious," he said.
Zoe shifted uncomfortably in her seat and took a sip of her hot chocolate, her eyes still fixed on the brown liquid in her cup, avoiding Allen's gaze that was fixed on her.
"And I also know that she's fallen in love with me," he added. He had been single for two years, but that didn't mean he was blind to those kinds of signs. And in Shea's case, it had been pretty clear.
Zoe couldn't believe what she just heard. Allen's words caught her off guard and made her choke on her drink. She coughed and spluttered, desperately trying to catch her breath. Her hand shook as she placed her drink back on the table, almost spilling it in the process. Her face turned red from embarrassment, and she avoided looking at Allen, feeling too awkward to face him.
"Are you okay?" Allen asked with concern, reaching out to pat her back.
She struggled to catch her breath, coughing uncontrollably and almost spilling her drink. Quickly, Allen reached for a nearby tissue box. He pulled out a tissue and handed it over to Zoe with a calm expression as if it was a routine occurrence for him to witness someone choking.
pαndα,noνɐ1,сoМ "Here you go," Allen said, holding out the tissue to Zoe.
Zoe took the tissue and wiped her mouth. She coughed a few more times before finally regaining control of her breath. She glanced up at Allen, still embarrassed by her earlier reaction.
"Thanks," she muttered, her voice hoarse from coughing. "How did you find out?" she demanded, her eyes wide and fixed on his face.
Allen leaned back in his chair, his eyes scanning her face thoughtfully. "I did a lot of research to write my novel, Zoe," he said, his voice low and measured. "To understand women, or how they behave when they are in love. So— I'm sure of that."
Zoe's curiosity was piqued by his words, even as her worry intensified. What kind of research could he possibly have done, to learn such intimate details about female sexual preference? She leaned forward, her eyes narrowed in suspicion.
"What kind of research do you mean?" she asked, her tone sharp and pointed.
Allen chuckled softly, his lips curving into a wry smile. "Oh, nothing too fancy," he said, waving a hand dismissively.
