When I Helped Out At My Classy Classmate's Family Home, They Started Going All Out To Close In On Me From Every Angle. - Chapter 17: It's Like A Dream, But It's Bad For My Heart—5.

It’s Like A Dream, But It’s Bad For My Heart—5.

A cascade of silky chestnut hair flowed gracefully, brushing lightly against my arm.

My heart pounded as though it had gone mad, and my throat felt parched and dry.

“Uh, Ayame-san? Is something the matter?”

My voice trembled as I asked, sounding unnaturally formal due to the panic bubbling within me.

Ayame didn’t respond. She said nothing—just leaned into me, placing her trust entirely in my presence.

W-What’s going on? Why is Ayame leaning on me like this? Does it have something to do with that kiss scene?

Sweat dampened my palms.

If her actions were prompted by that kiss scene… then maybe—just maybe—what Ayame wants is…

My imagination ran wild, spiraling into unchecked fantasies. Amidst the chaos of nervousness and confusion, a thread of desire crept into my thoughts.

I swallowed hard, waiting anxiously for Ayame’s next move.

Focusing entirely on her, I suddenly realized—

“…Suu…”

The sound was soft, serene. Ayame was breathing peacefully in her sleep.

She just fell asleep!?

I screamed inwardly, the tension draining from my rigid body all at once.

God, this is so embarrassing! I totally jumped to conclusions and let my imagination run amok. I was on the verge of creating a cringe-worthy memory I’d never recover from!

Covering my burning face with both hands, I heaved a deep, deep sigh.

“Don’t do anything so misleading,” I muttered, a trace of frustration in my voice as I glanced over at Ayame.

Her sleeping face, however, was pure divinity itself.

Long lashes framed her delicate eyes. Her cheeks were soft and rosy, like marshmallows. And those plump, rose-pink lips…

It was beauty no less than a work of art, rendering my fleeting frustration utterly meaningless, dissipating like smoke.

Once you saw her like this, it was over.

I was captivated, unable to tear my eyes away from Ayame’s sleeping face. I wanted to keep looking at her forever.

Minutes, maybe hours passed—I lost all sense of time, staring at her peaceful expression.

“Ah, so you really have fallen asleep, haven’t you?”

“――――――!”

And then, out of nowhere, Tsukimoto-san appeared.

I nearly let out a scream, but the instinct to avoid waking Ayame kicked in, and I managed to clamp my mouth shut at the last moment.

“T-T-Tsukimoto-san!?”

“My apologies for disturbing you at this late hour.”

Tsukimoto-san entered the room, bowing politely as I sat there, eyes wide in panic.

A chill ran down my spine.

Being caught like this—wasn’t it practically a death sentence?

Tsukimoto-san wasn’t just Ayame’s attendant; she was also her bodyguard. She had a clear tendency to view men as enemies. Case in point, on the day I helped Ayame fend off some guy hitting on her, just holding Ayame’s hand was enough to make Tsukimoto-san nearly break my arm.

And now? Here I was, sitting close to Ayame, practically glued to her while watching her sleep. This was nothing short of fatal.

T-this might be the day I die…

Feeling like a defendant awaiting sentencing, I watched as Tsukimoto-san slowly walked toward me.

She stopped in front of me, where I sat trembling like a leaf, and crouched down silently.

“Ayame-sama believes in an early-to-bed, early-to-rise routine,” she said calmly.

“…Huh?”

Her statement wasn’t an interrogation, nor an accusation, nor even a judgment. It was just a casual remark about Ayame. It was so unexpected that it took me a few seconds to process what she had said.