The World Is Mine For The Taking-Chapter 648 - 100 - Connection (4)

"Leon!?" Sister Lily's voice rang out with disbelief, her eyes widening as they locked onto mine. She looked completely thrown off, like the ground beneath her had just crumbled. "Explain to me what's going on?!"

I held her gaze, trying to remain composed. "Well… there's not really much to explain, other than the fact that what they said is true," I said with a slight shrug, letting the weight of my words hang in the air. freeweɓnøvel.com

"It's true?!" Her voice cracked as she repeated it, her face paling as if my confirmation had physically hit her. "I… I just don't understand, Leon…" she muttered, almost to herself. "I never would've imagined… never once thought you'd grow up to be…"

Her voice trembled. Her shoulders quivered as if her body itself was resisting what her mind already knew. She looked down, trying to fight back whatever emotion was clawing at her throat. And then, she said it.

"…a womanizer!"

A heavy silence crashed over the dining table like a wave. Everyone froze. The air felt dense—like we were all holding our breath. The children, too young to grasp the meaning of the word, simply glanced at each other with puzzled looks on their innocent faces.

"What's a womanizer?" one child asked in a hushed whisper.

"I don't know," another replied, shrugging as they tilted their head.

"Sister Lily, just calm down for a second," I said, keeping my tone steady, trying to soothe her rising panic.

"I won't! I can't!" she snapped back, standing stiffly, her expression a mixture of confusion and frustration. "How can you expect me to calm down knowing that the sweet little boy I once held in my arms… the boy I raised… the one who grew into such a fine man—has now become a scummy womanizer!?"

"Hehehe… I kind of like the way she thinks, Leon," Rose said suddenly, resting her chin in her hand with a teasing smirk. "I do think of you as a scummy womanizer too…"

"You don't get to say that," I shot back, narrowing my eyes in mock annoyance. "You became the lover of such a womanizer, Rose."

"Ugh..." Sister Lily groaned as she collapsed back into her seat, the fight draining from her body. Her shoulders sagged, and her gaze dropped to the table. "I just can't believe this… I always thought you and Alice would grow up into people who'd come back and help the orphanage… help the children here after you both achieved your dreams. But… I guess it can't be helped anymore. What's done is done."

She exhaled deeply, her tone softening as she spoke. "It's clear you really love them… and it seems they love you just as much. So… I suppose I have no right to complain."

Though she still clearly had her misgivings, I could see it in her face that she was choosing to accept it. Maybe not completely, but enough. Just as the tension started to lift slightly, another presence entered the room.

A girl walked in—or rather, a woman now.

Her golden hair shimmered as it swayed behind her with each step, catching the light in soft glints. Her crimson eyes were sharp, vibrant, and far more mature than I remembered. She looked like a completely different person compared to the girl I had met just last year.

She carried a woven basket overflowing with sun-dried laundry, the scent of warm cotton trailing behind her. The moment she stepped into the dining room, her eyes locked onto mine.

"Leon…"

Her voice was quiet, but the weight it carried was undeniable. An awkward silence swept across the room again. Her expression faltered only for a second before she lowered her head, clutched the basket a little tighter, and turned away without another word. Her footsteps echoed softly as she walked out, leaving the tension behind her.

She still couldn't bring herself to face me. That was obvious. And honestly… I couldn't blame her.

"Leon…" Titania's voice called out gently. She looked at me with knowing eyes—eyes that understood everything unfolding—but she didn't move. She wasn't part of this, and she knew it.

"I'm going to step out for a bit, Sister," I said quietly.

Sister Lily didn't say a word. I turned on my heel and walked away.

I found her in her room.

The moment I stepped into the hallway, I could feel that something familiar pulling at my chest. Her room was just as I remembered. Despite all the renovations the orphanage had undergone, this room remained untouched, like a time capsule. It was the same place we used to run to, to hide, to laugh, to share secrets and dreams.

The door wasn't locked.

That was her way of saying she expected me.

So, I walked in.

She was there, sitting at the edge of her bed, back straight, hands folded on her lap, her gaze fixed out the window. Her long hair fell over her shoulder like a curtain, catching glimmers of light from the overcast sky. The silence inside was serene—almost too serene.

Outside, I noticed the soft patter of rain tapping against the glass.

Somewhere along the way, it had started raining.

Which meant that the summer was ending.

It had started to let up a bit, though. The sky remained cloudy, but there was a sense that the worst of the downpour had passed. It wouldn't be long before the sun tried to break through.

"It's been a while, hasn't it?" she murmured, her voice carrying the weight of memories long tucked away. "I honestly thought you wouldn't come back here again after our little scuffle."

There was a lightness to her tone, a feigned casualness that didn't quite mask what lingered beneath. I could tell that she was trying to keep the mood from getting too heavy, trying to pretend like this was just another conversation.

But it wasn't.

"Hey…" she said again, this time a bit more hesitant, almost shy. "Is… is one of the women with you your girlfriend?"

The question hung in the air for a moment. I nodded slightly, giving her the truth, or at least a part of it.

"Well, in a sense, yeah," I answered plainly.

"In a sense?" she repeated, raising a brow. "Don't tell me you're dating all of them?" Her voice wavered on the edge of laughter, a teasing lilt in her words.

But I didn't respond. I didn't correct her. I didn't deny it.

And as the silence stretched between us, I saw the realization dawn in her eyes.

"Wait. Really?" she asked, her voice catching slightly, like she wasn't sure if she should be amused or disappointed.

I gave a slow nod.

"Wow. You are scum, Leon," she said, her tone sharper now as her glare met mine. "I can't believe you'd really go that low... collecting girlfriends like trophies."

There was an edge to her words, something bitter, I guess.

Then the silence returned... deeper this time. The rain had stopped completely. In its place came the faint, rhythmic sound of droplets slowly rolling down the windowpane, each one landing with a soft, distant tap. The kind of silence that didn't demand to be broken.

"Well," she finally said, her voice quieter, more introspective now. "I guess if you managed to make them accept an arrangement like that, then maybe… maybe you really do love them enough for them to accept it."

She gave a soft chuckle. It sounded somewhat empty.

"I'm kind of jealous, if that's the case."

Her words hit something in me, but I didn't have an answer. I wasn't sure there was one.

"Hey…" she spoke again, her voice threading gently into the silence. "If I hadn't stopped you back then… would I have become your lover too?"

I didn't need to ask what she meant. She was talking about the kiss. That moment when things could've changed. A single second in time where the world might have shifted for both of us. It was just one of those 'what if' moments, but... if she hadn't pulled away, if we had let things go further—then maybe, just maybe, we really could have become lovers.

And honestly, I believed we would have.

But that kind of truth... it wasn't something I could just throw into the open. Not really. Not yet anyway.

"Thank you for not answering," she said softly. Her voice trembled, just a little. "If you had said we might've… I think I'd hate you forever."

She was right. If I had said yes, she would've thought I was just another guy chasing after any woman who gave him a second glance. She would've seen me as a scumbag who didn't know when to stop. But I knew how her mind worked. We'd shared a life together once, long enough for me to understand her silences better than her words.

"I think it's best if we just see ourselves as childhood friends, and nothing more," she said, trying to sound certain. "That's probably what's best, don't you think?"

"What do you mean?" I asked her, though the answer was already there, written in every shift of her eyes and every hesitant pause.

"I think we need to draw the line," she said, voice steadying. "It's not healthy—for either of us—to keep thinking about what happened back then. And honestly, it wouldn't be right. You have your own women now, and I'm walking a path that leads to priesthood. Drawing a line somewhere… is the wise thing to do."

Everything she said made sense. Logical. Clear.

But something about it felt hollow, like the words were more for her own sake than mine. She didn't mean it. Not completely.

Still, if that was the decision she'd made, if she was going to live by it—then I had to respect that.

"Alright," I said simply.

But as the word left my mouth, her body tensed. She jolted slightly, as though the sound of my agreement was something that cut through her more deeply than she'd expected.

"Are you truly alright with us parting ways like this?" I asked, needing to be sure.

Because something in the way she flinched… told me that she wasn't.