History At The Library - Chapter 33
Library

Chapter 33

The well-spoken Vivian disappeared and she slurred the ends of her words. It was as if she had fallen unconscious with her eyes open wide.

Even Vivian herself realized that her reactions and thoughts were rather transparent. After all, even if she reached the summit of the field, she still had zero experience. No, even then, she would have never imagined that he'd ask her directly. It wasn't even a little romantic.

Vivian gripped her heavily pounding heart and replied with a serious expression.

“Scholar, you're far more daring than I thought.”

Ray chuckled as though he was struck speechless, “I don't think my Lady should be the one to say that.”

“Since you've seen through my schemes already, it can't be helped. Will you be crossing the line?”

“What do you desire of me?”

“Dating.”

“What do you desire from dating?” It was a soft voice as though he talked to a young child.

Vivian pressed her lips together into a line. He had figured out that Vivian had more to gain not from the act of dating, but to form romantic relations.h.i.+ps.

Was he a ghost? Vivian thought in astonishment inwardly. She couldn't figure out which portion of their conversation had served as a hint. It was one thing for Ray to realize that she liked him in a single glance, but it was a totally different thing for him to look through to her dark intentions.

Just as she had thought, he wasn't a normal man. He was a man with as many layers filled with mystery.

“There's nothing I could possibly want, right?”

“Is it revenge against the librarian's household that persecuted you?”

“What, no!”

It was a lie to say she was totally devoid of revenge. There were many nights where she would kick away the blankets and cry angrily, but, for Vivian, her life right now was far more exciting and fun. To be honest, she hated the fact that she had to waste time if she wanted to take revenge.

“Do you want wealth?”

“I don't need money.”

Rather, she had more than enough to the point that it rotted away in her pocket.

“Fame? Power?”

“Is there anything in this world that is more tedious to take responsibility for than that?”

The reason that she used a pseudonym rather than her real name was she would lose her private life and be under surveillance all day and found such a situation burdensome.

No, before that, how would it be possible to obtain revenge, wealth, fame, or power from a relations.h.i.+p with a scholar?

Vivian spoke with a hand over heart, “I do not desire such materialistic things. I purely wish for Scholar Ray himself.”

To be honest, apart from liking him, she required experience to date someone so close to her ideal type. To be more specific, it was experience she required to accurately express the emotions that are involved with romance.

“Do you desire my heart?”

“While it is true that I hold interest in the scholar, I don't expect your heart.”

While it would be great to have it, this wasn't a deciding factor.

The important thing was whether Vivian would be able to feel the same emotions and l.u.s.t as the female protagonist. Of course, it was also helpful to understand the male protagonist's psychology.

After all, the rest was better off veiled in imagination and fantasy rather than being too realistic.

“Then do you wish for my body?”

Her words were interpreted in a different manner than intended.

To l.u.s.t after another under the veil of dating – Vivian herself felt as though she had become a knave and started to explain herself as though her life was on the line, “Look at this. I'm a very safe beast who has been chained.”

Vivian truthfully addressed herself as a beast and showed off her ring, “The only skins.h.i.+p I'm allowed to have is to hold hands. I wouldn't pounce on you.”

“Everything's fine, so just bring yourself and I'll take responsibility and feed you.” Though she had hidden her dark intentions, she still spoke with sincerity.

“How nice.”

Just then, the hand that rubbed his chin moved towards his lips and Ray mumbled. The fingers that traced those red lips resembled the fingers of a painter.