Leave the Villainous Second Male Lead Alone - Chapter 1.17

The bed was too high for Callisto to climb up on his own. I wrapped my arms around his waist and lifted him, setting him down beside me.

The freshly washed scent clinging to him was the same as mine. Callisto fidgeted nervously, his fingers twisting together as if unsure of what to do. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?” I asked softly. “About what?” he replied, looking up at me with an innocent expression. His defiance seemed to have melted away, replaced by a calm demeanor.

His change in attitude softened my own heart, and I gently wrapped an arm around his small shoulders. “Your room doesn’t even have a bathroom. No sitting area, and it’s way too small. I should’ve had it changed earlier. I’m sorry.”

Though I casually referred to it as “my bedroom,” my quarters were more like a suite, complete with a separate sitting room, dressing room, and bathroom. In comparison, Callisto’s room was worse than the servants’ quarters. “Is my room bad?” Callisto asked.

“Hmm?”

“I don’t mind. Why were you mad?”

He looked genuinely puzzled. It struck me that, although Callisto had been born in the royal palace, he had spent most of his life in the slums. To him, even his current room might have seemed luxurious. Still, the thought that I had been so negligent gnawed at me.

Leaving such a young child without proper care or a suitable room felt inexcusable. I let out a soft sigh. “I’m not mad. Anyway, let’s sleep here together for now. The bed’s big enough, right?” “Huh?” The bed was large enough for both of us to roll around without bumping into each other.

There was no reason for it not to be. But Callisto’s eyes went wide, and he began flailing his arms and legs in protest.

“Together? You and me? Why?”

“Huh? What do you mean, why?

Where else would you sleep?”

“I… I can sleep on the sofa in the sitting room!”

“What are you talking about? Why would you sleep on the sofa when the bed is this big?” “But how can I sleep with you? You’re so careless! Do you even know what could happen? You’re an Alpha, and I’m…”

“What nonsense are you spouting, kid?” What was this seven-year-old on about?

This wasn’t even Korea,why was he suddenly bringing up some old-fashioned prudishness? He must have dreamed about Etienne’s future.

While Etienne’s actual designation wasn’t clear, he was publicly known as a dominant Alpha. And Callisto, for some reason, seemed convinced he would manifest as an Omega… The thought made me burst out laughing. “You think I’m going to do something to you? The things you come up with, kid. Relax nothing like that will ever happen.”

Callisto didn’t seem convinced. He glared at me with narrowed eyes, visibly frustrated, and asked, “Why not? You said I was pretty! Were you lying?”

Who in the world had filled this child’s head with such thoughts? Speechless, I struggled to find an appropriate response.

Sure, I’d called him pretty, but it was the kind of “pretty” you’d say to a cute kitten.

Besides, Callisto wasn’t going to become an Omega, he was destined to grow into an overbearing possessive tyrant.

At least, that’s what I thought. But judging by his current behavior, Callisto seemed far from that path. Perhaps it was for the best. Still at a loss for words, I quietly got up from the bed. Callisto’s sharp gaze followed me.

“…You stay here and sleep. I’ll take the sofa.”

“What? Why? No, it’s cold over there.”

“My room isn’t cold anywhere. Don’t worry about it, just get some rest.”

“Who’s worrying about you?

I’ll sleep on the sofa, so you don’t have to worry about me catching a cold!” Though his words sounded defiant, his wide eyes glimmered with concern. It felt oddly like a grumpy kitten taking care of its owner. Amused, I patted Callisto’s head and walked over to the sitting room adjacent to the bedroom. Even the sofa there was three times bigger and comfier than the bed in my old studio apartment. “I’ll sleep on the sofa, okay?” Callisto squirmed on the bed, half on the verge of tears, trying to climb down. But as much as he acted like a brat, I couldn’t bring myself to make a child sleep on a sofa. Chuckling, I teased him. “Don’t come down—you’ll get hurt. Your legs are too short.” “I’m still young—that’s why!

They’ll get longer soon!”

“Sure, sure. Our little Callisto is just a baby.” “I’m not a baby!”

“Then listen and stay put, okay? If you keep being stubborn, I’ll go sleep in your room.” “…” Callisto finally gave in. He sulked, turning his back to me with a huff to show his displeasure. Smiling, I pulled a blanket over myself and settled into the sofa, feeling optimistic that this would be a peaceful night. I was wrong. Late at night, I woke up to the sound of Callisto’s terrified cries.

Thunder roared outside, and flashes of lightning illuminated the bedroom through the large window. Rain poured down in torrents. But it wasn’t the storm that woke me—it was Callisto’s voice, laced with fear and tears. “Callisto? What’s wrong? Are you scared?” I rushed to his side and gently wrapped my arms around him. But Callisto didn’t seem to hear me. No matter how much I tried to soothe him, he remained unresponsive. “Nanny… No, Nanny, please… Don’t kill her. Please…” My hands froze mid-stroke. Callisto was trembling, his small body wracked with sobs as he begged someone unseen.

With every crash of thunder, he flinched and cried out, teeth clenched and shaking in terror. He wasn’t seeing me—he was reliving a nightmare. Likely, the night the Empress’s assassins came, when his beloved nanny had been slain trying to protect him.

“Callisto, it’s okay. It’s me. Open your eyes, please.” I whispered gently, trying to comfort him. I wracked my brain, recalling what I knew from the original story. But Callisto’s childhood had never been explored in detail. I did, however, remember a mention that even as an adult, he was traumatized by thunderstorms. The reason had never been explained until now.

The stormy night his nanny was killed must have left an indelible mark on his young psyche. My chest ached at the thought of how alone he must have felt, cowering in the rain-soaked streets. Even in his sleep, he was weeping against my chest, soaking my shirt with tears. I held him tighter, wishing I could shield him from the cruel memories haunting his dreams. I tightened my arms around Callisto, gently patting his trembling back.

“Baby, it’s okay now. I’m here with you. No one can get to you.” “Sniff, sob!”

“Don’t worry. There’s nothing to be scared of. I’ll protect you.” It wasn’t just during his time on the streets.

Even after coming to the Earl’s manor, Callisto must have endured many storms. Each time, he would have shivered alone in that freezing room. With no one assigned to care for him, his trauma went unnoticed. In the original story, this trauma is only mentioned much later.

As an adult, it’s Lawrence who comforts Callisto for the first time. Until then, Callisto had endured everything alone. ‘No wonder he grew up like that. He’s really just a fragile kid underneath it all.’ A little kitten, drenched in the storm and quivering in fear. Who could blame a child like that for growing up into a possessive, emotionally scarred man? If he’d had a different environment, Callisto could have turned out to be someone entirely different—maybe a possessive yet kind protector.

But fantasies aside, comforting the child came first. Finally, Callisto, who had been unable to open his eyes until now, weakly called out to me. “Etienne?”

“Yes, are you awake? Can you recognize me?”

“Is it really you…?”

“Yes, it’s me. Just me. You don’t need to worry.”

“Not the dream Etienne, but the real one?”

“…Yes.” At that, Callisto burrowed deeper into my arms. His tiny hands reached out, fumbling as if to confirm that I was real.

My heart ached at the sight. I kept whispering softly into his ear, trying to reassure him.

“Baby, the dream Etienne isn’t real. I’m the real one. It’s just the two of us here, no one else. You’re safe.” It took a long time to soothe him before Callisto’s sobs began to subside.

Finally, in a hoarse voice, he mumbled, “I’m not a baby.”

“Well, it seems like you’re back to your senses.”

The way he argued suggested he’d calmed down a bit. Though thunder still roared outside, Callisto’s trembling body gradually warmed up. His pale, stricken face turned toward me, his tearful eyes clinging to mine before he hiccupped and wrapped his little arms around my back.

“Etienne…”

His pitiful state tugged at my heartstrings. I kissed his round forehead, cradling his damp cheeks in my hands, and brushed away the tear stains with my thumb.

“There, don’t cry. Everything’s fine now.”

“Don’t go to the sofa. Stay with me.”

“I won’t leave. I’ll stay right here. Now go to sleep.”

“You’ll stay with me? Always? Forever?”

“Of course. Always and forever.”

“You promised…”

“Yes, I promise.” Despite having adamantly refused to sleep with me just the night before, Callisto now buried himself deeper into my arms, sniffling.

Perhaps all Callisto needed was a bit of warmth. After losing his nanny, he’d never had anyone to hold him.

That night, he clung to me, sniffling and sobbing until he finally drifted off to sleep.

His tear-streaked cheeks and puffy eyes were a heart-wrenching sight. Rain continued to lash against the window. Thunder occasionally rumbled through the night, causing Callisto to twitch slightly. But a gentle pat on his back was enough to calm him. Nestled against my chest, his tiny, steady breaths lingered in my ears as I watched over him. The storm gradually subsided, and eventually, I fell into a deep sleep as well.

The long night passed like that.

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