Too Lazy to be a Villainess novel Chapter 355

Chapter 355: His Beautiful Memory

[Lavinia’s POV—Imperial Balcony—Continuation]

The night did not answer.

Neither did he.

For a heartbeat—just one—I wondered if I had gone too far. If the crown had slipped. If the princess had spoken when she should have remained silent.

Haldor’s breath hitched.

Once.

Twice.

But he didn’t move an inch. The silence stretched—heavy and terrifying.

Gods... I’m such an idiot. How could I ask something like that?

I swallowed, heat creeping up my neck, my fingers loosening from his uniform as I prepared to step back—

—WHOOSH.

The world shifted.

"Huh—?"

Suddenly, his grip tightened around my waist—firm, steady, unmistakably real. I gasped as the distance of an inch between us vanished, my breath catching when I felt his chest against mine, his warmth surrounding me like a shield.

He leaned down just enough that I could feel his breath on my lips.

"Can I..." he asked, voice rough and unsteady in a way I had never heard before, "...really?"

I looked up at him.

And froze.

Because the expression on his face—I had never seen it. Not the cold, disciplined captain. Not the stoic soldier carved from steel.

This was something else.

Soft. So soft it hurt to look at.

His blue eyes were no longer guarded—they were wide, open, and luminous, like a man standing at the edge of something sacred. A young man who had fallen in love for the first time... and would burn the world to protect it if he had to.

He was...so mesmerizing.

My heart stuttered.

I lifted my hands slowly, resting them against his shoulders—feeling the strength beneath my palms, the tension barely held together by will alone.

"Yes," I whispered.

That was all.

One word.

Permission.

Something dangerous flashed through his eyes—not hunger, not recklessness—but devotion. And then, impossibly, he smiled. 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝒆𝔀𝒆𝙗𝓷𝒐𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝓶

A small, stunned, disbelieving smile, like he couldn’t believe the world had allowed him this moment.

His arms came around me fully then—firm, warm, possessive without being forceful—as if he were afraid I might disappear if he loosened his hold. I felt my feet leave the ground for just a second as he pulled me closer, anchoring me against him.

And then—His lips touched mine.

Softly.

Carefully.

Like he was testing whether the moment was real.

The kiss was warm—gentle pressure, a quiet meeting rather than a claim. His lips lingered, hesitant at first, as if asking again without words.

My breath trembled as I leaned into him.

And the hesitation melted.

Not into urgency—but into need.

The kiss deepened just enough to steal my breath, just enough to make my fingers curl into his uniform. His thumb brushed along my waist, slow and grounding, as if memorizing the shape of me.

I could feel his heartbeat—fast, unsteady—mirroring my own.

Time dissolved.

There was no empire. No crown. No captain.

Only warmth. Only closeness. Only this fragile, electric connection that felt like it had always been waiting.

When we finally parted, it was only by a breath. Our foreheads rested together, his nose brushing mine, our breathing uneven—shared—as if neither of us remembered how to exist separately anymore.

For a moment, neither of us spoke.

Because anything said now would change everything, and somehow... neither of us wanted to take it back. The balcony, the moon, the distant music—all of it blurred into something unreal. Silver light spilled over his face, softening the sharp lines I knew so well. When our eyes met again, time stilled.

It felt as if fate itself had paused—watching.

Approving.

As though something ancient and unseen had quietly nodded and stepped aside, allowing this moment to exist. Haldor lifted his hand slowly, hesitantly, as if afraid I might vanish if he moved too fast. His thumb brushed gently at the corner of my lips.

"...Your lipstick," he murmured.

I blinked, heat rushing to my cheeks.

He wiped the faint smudge with almost painful care—his touch feather-light, reverent, lingering just a second too long before he seemed to realize what he was doing.

And then—He stepped back.

Quickly.

Too quickly.

His face flushed all the way to his ears, his composure shattering in the most endearing way I had ever seen. He straightened, hands curling into fists at his sides, eyes very deliberately fixed somewhere over my shoulder.

"We—we should leave, Your Highness," he said, voice hoarse, barely steady. "Before... before someone notices."

I smiled—soft, uncontrollable.

I turned away first, not trusting myself to look at him any longer. My heart was still racing, my lips still warm, and my thoughts tangled beyond repair.

"Yes," I said quietly. "... Let’s go."

***

[Haldor’s POV—Imperial Ballroom Balcony—Moments Later]

Don’t look at her. If you look again, you won’t survive this with your discipline intact.

The warmth of her was still on me—on my lips, in my chest, in places I didn’t know could ache. I could still feel the gentle pressure of her fingers on my shoulder, the way she had said yes so easily, so trustingly.

"Haldor," she said, cutting me off before I could finish, not even looking at me, her tone perfectly calm, "if you apologize again, I’ll start to feel like I sexually harassed my captain."

"Pfft—!"

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