Gon's Harem System
Chapter 77: Celia’s dilemma

Chapter 77: Celia’s dilemma

Her eyes, wide and burning with frustration, locked onto his, demanding an explanation, but also daring him to offer one that could possibly make sense.

"I’m sorry," Gon replied, his voice soft and hesitant, like a child caught in a moment of mischief.

He took a step back, his shoulders slumping slightly as though trying to shrink into himself, as if he could somehow make himself smaller to avoid the intensity of her gaze.

He made his eyes wide and filled with a mix of innocence and guilt, darted to the ground before lifting back up to meet hers, his expression carefully crafted to show remorse.

He wanted to have that lost puppy look, the one that always seemed to work on people’s when he’d made a mistake.

It was a tactic he’d perfected over time, tilting his head slightly, lowering his eyes to the floor just enough to make him appear vulnerable, while keeping the smallest trace of a pout on his lips.

If she could pity him, he reasoned, she would be less angry at his actions and more likely to forgive him.

That was the delicate dance he was attempting now, if he could just shift her focus from the anger and instead make her feel a sense of empathy for him, perhaps she would soften.

He adjusted his posture slightly, slouching even more, trying to appear smaller, almost as if he was unsure of himself, like a child who didn’t quite understand the weight of what he had done.

His eyes met hers for a fleeting moment, then dropped back down to the floor.

He was careful not to meet her gaze for too long, he knew how intense it could be when she was angry, and he didn’t want to face the full force of that wrath head-on.

If he could just maintain that vulnerable look, the soft, apologetic air about him, she might start to doubt her own anger.

And in that moment of doubt, in that space where compassion could replace fury, he might just get a second chance.

She might even decide to let him kiss her fully, he thought, as a wave of hope stirred within him.

If he could just get her to see him not as the person who had made her angry, but as someone who was genuinely remorseful and vulnerable, there was a chance she’d let her guard down completely.

"I’m sorry," he replied, his voice tinged with a mixture of regret and longing, his eyes dropping to the ground for a moment before lifting back to meet hers. "I don’t know what came over me." He took a deep breath, as if trying to steady the words that were tumbling out of him. "As soon as I felt your breath close to me, I couldn’t resist turning my face to see your beauty."

He let the words hang in the air between them, vulnerable and raw, as though confessing something he hadn’t fully allowed himself to understand.

"I didn’t mean for it to happen like that," he continued, his voice quieter now, almost vulnerable. "I just... in that moment, it felt like I needed to be closer to you, like I couldn’t stand being so far away. I should have controlled myself, but I couldn’t help it."

"I totally forgot that you were coming to kiss my cheek," he continued, his voice softening even further, as though the words themselves were a gentle confession.

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his gaze dropping again, a sign of the vulnerability he was trying to convey. "It wasn’t intentional, I swear."

He took another breath, his hands slightly fidgeting at his sides as he worked through the jumble of emotions. "When I turned, I wasn’t thinking, I just wanted to be close to you, and I ended up kissing your lips instead."

Celia scoffed, the sound sharp and unmistakable, cutting through the tension that hung thick between them.

She looked at him with a mix of disbelief and frustration, her brow furrowed as if trying to process his words, but finding them falling short of convincing her.

Her lips tightened into a thin line as she crossed her arms before her chest, a gesture that spoke volumes, she was closing herself off, her defenses rising, unwilling to accept the easy explanation he was offering.

"Hmmm," Celia said finally, her voice low and laced with skepticism.

She tilted her head slightly, as if weighing the words he had just spoken, but finding them not quite heavy enough to tip the scales in his favor.

The sound hung in the air, a mixture of doubt and contemplation, as she stared at him with an unreadable expression.

Her arms remained crossed, a protective barrier between them, as if she were trying to shield herself from the vulnerability of the moment.

Gon was a boy, and Celia knew all too well how mischievous boys could be.

They were unpredictable, often acting on impulse without thinking of the consequences, driven by the thrill of the moment rather than consideration for others.

She had seen it countless times, in the way they flirted with danger, the way they pushed boundaries to test limits.

It was almost like a game to them, the thrill of doing something they knew they shouldn’t, the excitement of seeing how far they could push the boundaries before someone caught on.

And when things inevitably went wrong, they had one card they could always play: their youth.

The fact that they were young and, in some cases, adorably charming, was their escape hatch, their way of weaseling out of the consequences.

In fact she had had to punish some herself.

However, Gon was different. He didn’t look or seem mischievous beyond that playful glint in his eyes, the kind that could make anyone second-guess whether he was up to something or not.

His demeanor wasn’t like the other boys she had encountered, he didn’t exude that typical sense of rebellion or defiance, the way they often did when they were testing limits or playing games.

No, Gon seemed genuine, almost too earnest at times, as if he didn’t quite fit the mold of the typical troublemaker.

And he was quite well-behaved, too. Celia had seen it in the way he treated others, the way he was respectful even when no one was watching.

He didn’t seem like someone who would toy with her emotions just for fun or take advantage of her trust.