Leave the Villainous Second Male Lead Alone - Chapter 1.9

How could anyone be so cruel over food?

What kind of child grows up to be this vile? Callisto had likely seen that moment in one of his “dreams” about the future, which explained why he hadn’t asked me for the steak earlier.

Remembering that scene made my head ache. Still, I had no one to blame but myself.

When H first wrote that scene, she had worried it was too much. I, however, had applauded her for adding such “perfectly seasoned drama.” Maybe I should’ve held back a little.

Regret was pointless now. At the time, I hadn’t imagined I’d end up embodying Etienne or that Callisto would know about the future. Sighing, I continued cutting the steak and feeding it to Callisto. Then I noticed him quietly staring at me. It wasn’t until a moment later that I realized I’d been lost in thought and hadn’t responded to his gaze. “What? Do you want something else? Oh, right, you should eat some salad too.” Even I wasn’t fond of greens, but children needed balanced nutrition.

I reached for the salad plate, but Callisto shook his head.

“No, I’m full. I don’t want any more.”

“Huh?”

That didn’t make sense. Callisto was a growing boy, and the novel described him as having a hearty appetite. In fact, there were multiple scenes where Etienne used food as a means to torment him. Was he refusing because he thought I might hurt him?

Thinking about Etienne’s cruelty made me sigh again. “Callisto, you can eat as much as you want. I promise I won’t hurt you, okay?”

“That’s not it…” Callisto hesitated, something uncharacteristic for him.

I stayed silent, giving him time to gather his thoughts. Finally, he puffed out his cheeks and muttered, “What do you think I am, a pig?”

“What?” A pig? This scrawny little thing looked more like a stray kitten than anything remotely resembling a pig. Confused, I furrowed my brow, but Callisto’s voice interrupted my thoughts.

“You didn’t eat anything. You just kept feeding me. You should eat too. It’s really good.” The tips of his ears and his rosy cheeks flushed an even deeper red. His shyness made me want to laugh, but I held it back, knowing how sensitive a seven-year-old could be. Instead, I sliced a piece of steak for myself and took a bite. The savory, tender meat melted in my mouth, filling it with rich, buttery flavor. I nodded seriously.

“You’re right. It’s amazing.”

“Isn’t it?” Callisto’s eyes sparkled. Though he’d claimed to be full, he licked his lips as if tempted for more.

The sight reminded me of a stray kitten I used to feed back in my old life—a skittish, black-furred cat that hissed and scratched at first but eventually warmed up to me thanks to my persistence (and a steady supply of treats).

Spearing two pieces of lamb on my fork, I held them out to Callisto. Despite his earlier protest, he opened his mouth without hesitation, cheeks puffing out like a chipmunk’s as he chewed. Watching him eat so eagerly, I muttered to myself, “You should look this plump even when you’re not eating.”

Callisto shot me a sharp glare and retorted, “What, are you trying to fatten me up so you can eat me?” I burst out laughing. His attempt at picking a fight only made him more endearing. Startled by my reaction, Callisto blinked up at me in confusion. I ruffled his hair gently, thinking, You’re finally looking more alive.

This spirited, stubborn version of him was far better than the timid, tearful boy from earlier. I decided right then to stay patient and kind, no matter how much of a fuss he made.

“Don’t worry, I won’t eat you. Just eat as much as you want. I don’t even like this that much.”

“…Really?”

“Really. If you don’t eat, it’ll all go to waste, and wasting food isn’t good.”

“Then I’ll eat it,” he said, his eyes lighting up as he opened his mouth wide again, clearly expecting me to feed him. I sighed, both exasperated and amused, and popped another piece of lamb into his mouth.

He chewed happily before swallowing and asked, “So, what do you like to eat?”

“Me? Well…”

I thought of ramen, burgers, and fried chicken—all the things I could no longer have.

The memory made me a little sad, but I quickly improvised.

“Spicy noodles, bread with meat inside, and fried chicken.”

“Those exist?”

“Of course. Maybe… probably. I’ll make them for you someday.”

“You’ll cook them yourself?”

“Yeah. I’m a great cook.” Eight years of living alone had made me quite handy in the kitchen.

While the results might not taste exactly the same, I was confident I could make something close. Callisto’s wide eyes stared up at me as if I’d just promised him the moon.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” “Is it going to be real food or poison?”

“You brat… Fine, I’ll taste it first before giving it to you. Happy now?”

“…You’re weird.”

“What’s weird? Don’t want to try it?”

Afraid he might reject the idea altogether, I anxiously waited for his response.

But Callisto shook his head. “No, it’s just…”

“Just what?”

“You wouldn’t get it.” “How do you know I wouldn’t get it? Try me, kid.”

Oops. I’d promised myself to be more patient just ten minutes ago. Forcing a smile, I quickly corrected myself.

“I mean, give it a shot, Callisto.”

“You’re so weird,” Callisto muttered, though his voice lacked its usual bite.

“What’s bothering you, huh?”