"Um, can I…"
"No. Tell me the reason first."
Scarlett cut him off before he could finish. Her voice was calm but left no room for negotiation. Deep down, she didn't want Andrew to keep fearing her like this. She had started seeing him differently now, he was no longer just her former student. He was 'hers'. And she disliked the idea of her own boy being terrified of her.
Andrew swallowed hard. He had no escape.
He nervously told her part of the truth.
"Because… Last year when you substituted for our class, you were really fierce. A male student got called out by you once and then dropped out of school afterward. Everyone was scared of you after that."
Scarlett let out a soft, almost inaudible sigh.
"I was strict because you were in your final year. I needed to push all of you to study seriously," she explained flatly. "That boy had to undergo surgery. His leave had nothing to do with me."
"Ah…?" Andrew looked genuinely surprised. "So that's what happened…"
Scarlett stared at him for a moment, her expression still cold, but her tone slightly less sharp.
"Is that really enough to make you this afraid of me? You seem to have developed a phobia."
Andrew tensed. 'How does she even notice that?'
After hesitating for nearly half a minute, he finally confessed the bigger reason.
"…And one time after school, I saw you slap a big man in the face. He was much taller and stronger than you, but he ended up crying and calling for his mom…"
Scarlett's expression eased just a little.
"That man was a hooligan who harassed female students. I hit him because he deserved it. I've never hit anyone else like that."
Andrew blinked. "Hooligan…? But he was wearing nice clothes. He didn't look like it. I thought that man was your Boyfriend or a relative or something."
Scarlett gave him a sharp look.
The glare was so intense that Andrew immediately shut his mouth. For a split second, he genuinely felt killing intent behind her eyes.
Scarlett quickly softened her gaze, though her face remained cold.
"Don't make random assumptions. He had nothing to do with me. He was purely a scumbag."
"Oh… okay," Andrew nodded quickly, not daring to say anything more.
Seeing how frightened he still looked, Scarlett paused. She realized her glare had been too strong again. She leaned back slightly and spoke in a quieter, steadier voice:
"Since you started living here, have I lost my temper with you even once?"
"…No."
"Then why are you still so nervous and scared every time you see me?" She looked at him directly. "Do I look that scary to you?"
Andrew shook his head rapidly. "No."
"Then why?"
He stayed silent.
Scarlett waited. When he still didn't speak, she added, her voice low but firm:
"Say it. I won't get angry."
Andrew looked at her doubtfully.
"Really…? You won't get angry?"
"Really, I promise I won't get angry. Go ahead and say it," Scarlett said calmly once more.
Andrew finally gathered his courage.
"Because… your gaze is usually too icy. Combined with the strict impression you left when you substituted for our class last year, every time I look at you, I feel like you're always in a bad mood and about to get angry at me."
Scarlett fell silent.
She knew her gaze was naturally cold. It was partly her personality, and partly a shield she had built to keep troublesome people away. But she never expected it would make Andrew this scared of her. A quiet fear stirred inside her chest.
'If he keeps being this afraid of me because of my gaze… what if one day he really runs away? Where would I find him then?'
Especially now that she had started seeing him differently. She couldn't allow that to happen.
Scarlett lowered her eyes for a moment, then looked at him again with a softer expression.
"Then I'll change the way I look at you," she said. "Is it still scary now?"
Andrew studied her face carefully.
"…It's still a bit scary."
"How about now?"
She tried again, relaxing her brows and softening her eyes further.
"It needs to be a little more gentle…"
Scarlett adjusted her expression once more.
This time, Andrew didn't answer right away. He simply stared into her eyes, momentarily lost. Her usually sharp, icy gaze had become surprisingly soft and clear, like stars shining quietly in the night.
"Hm?" Scarlett hummed softly.
Andrew snapped back to his senses.
"Your look now… is very good."
"Okay. I understand."
Scarlett replied in her usual cool tone, but inside she felt a small, hidden wave of satisfaction. At least he no longer looked as nervous.
"Teacher Scarlett… I'm sorry. I misunderstood you all along."
"It's fine," she said quietly. "It's not entirely your fault. I was indeed quite fierce when I substituted for your class."
Just as Andrew stood up to wash the dishes, Scarlett called him back again.
"Wait. Can you cook?"
"Yes, I can. Why?" Andrew asked, slightly confused.
Andrew's cooking skills couldn't be called gourmet, but they were definitely better than most school cafeteria chefs. This was the skill he inherited from his mother, who could handle both the living room and the kitchen.
When he was still at home, Catherine often used various threats and inducements to get Andrew to cook for her.
"Nothing, I was just asking."
Scarlett shook her head lightly. "It's nothing."
But immediately after, she asked another question: "Then… if you cook here in the future, would that be okay?"
"Yes, the kitchenware is all here," Andrew replied, scratching his head in confusion. He didn't understand why she was suddenly asking about cooking.
"I see." Scarlett stood up. "You should rest early. You still have military training tomorrow."
"Oh… okay."
Andrew watched Scarlett walk into her bedroom with a puzzled expression, then began washing the dishes. As he cleaned, he quietly reflected on everything that had happened since he arrived.
They had been living together for over a week now, and Scarlett hadn't lost her temper even once. Maybe the rumors about her fiery personality were exaggerated after all.
She was still extremely cold on the surface, which made it hard for him to ask her things directly. He could only slowly discover her real personality through daily contact. It felt like playing a decryption game with no walkthrough — he had to figure everything out himself.
After finishing cleaning the table and kitchen, Andrew carried his military training uniform back to his bedroom. As soon as he picked it up, a faint, pleasant fragrance drifted into his nose. He couldn't help but hold it closer.
This was the second time Scarlett had washed his uniform for him.
Recalling how she had specially come to the training ground on the first day to bring him food, Andrew's impression of her softened even more.
'Maybe she just looks cold on the outside… but she's actually a very gentle big sister on the inside.'
The thought made him feel much more relaxed. Maybe he wouldn't have to walk on eggshells every day while living here.
As he lay down on the bed and hugged his pillow, a new thought suddenly entered his mind.
'She's actually quite beautiful when she softens her expression…'
Andrew stared at the ceiling, his heart beating a little faster than usual. Scarlett was only 27 — not that much older than him. She was beautiful, had a great figure, lived alone, and despite her cold appearance, she seemed to be quietly taking care of him.
'Should I… try my chances with her?'
The bold thought appeared out of nowhere and made his face heat up. He quickly shook his head.
'No, no, no, what am I thinking? She's my former teacher! And she's way out of my league…'
Still, the seed of that thought had already been planted.
He turned sideways, hugged the pillow tighter, and closed his eyes. However, no matter how he held it, the pillow didn't feel as soft and comfortable as the one in his dream earlier that night.
"That feeling was so real…" he mumbled sleepily. "What exactly was I holding in that dream?"