Betrayed, I Knocked Demon Lord's Door - Chapter 32: Chapter 32
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That evening, after a nice, steamy bath, Caitlyn—smelling fresh and floral—marched over and kicked Leon off the couch and into the bathroom.
Carrying the first aid kit, she made her way into Leon's room to change his bandages.
"…Not as messy as I expected," she said.
She glanced at his neatly made bed and felt a tiny pang of guilt. Pretty sure she hadn't properly made her bed once since moving in.
Sitting on the edge of the mattress, she waited quietly for him to return.
A faint scent lingered in the air—clean, warm, and distinctly him. She couldn't quite put it into words, but… it was oddly comforting.
Caitlyn shook her head, snapping out of it. She quickly pulled out her phone, trying to distract herself.
A few minutes later, Leon stepped in, towel draped over his head as he rubbed his still-damp hair. His dark bangs clung to his forehead, and those deep, inky eyes shimmered under the soft light.
Caitlyn looked up—then immediately looked away, her chest tightening just a little. "Dry your hair properly before you come in," she said, keeping her voice low and steady.
"'Kay…"
He didn't argue. It was like he'd only come in to check on her. With barely a pause, he turned and left the room again.
When he came back, things went smoother the second time around. Having gone through this once already, both of them were more relaxed—well, mostly.
Despite trying to stay composed, Caitlyn still blushed at the sight of his bare, well-defined torso. Leon just radiated masculine energy, and it was hard not to notice.
Still, after everything they'd been through that day, the mood between them had settled. Leon, for once, was surprisingly cooperative—quiet, still, following her instructions as she worked on changing his bandages.
But when Caitlyn saw the fresh blood seeping through the gauze and the small tears at the edges of the wound, her brows knit together.
"You got into a fight at the Guild of Hunters, didn't you?"
"…Not exactly," Leon said, scratching his cheek. "I just… gave a few A-Rank Hunters some pointers."
"That scooter—" she glanced at him sharply "—that's how you got it, isn't it?"
Leon gave a sheepish nod, eyes dropping. Under her stare, he couldn't even pretend to look confident.
Caitlyn looked at him for a long moment, then let out a soft breath, closing her eyes briefly as she forced herself to stay calm. She resumed her work without another word.
"Next time, if you're still injured—no fighting. Got it?"
"What if someone picks a fight with me?"
"Tell me," she said flatly, not even glancing up.
Leon blinked. "…And if you're not there?"
"Then punch them hard enough they don't get back up," she said calmly, meeting his eyes.
"…Alright."
"Because if you tear your stitches again, I'm the one stuck redoing the bandages," she added, lips quirking in mild annoyance—like she was trying to justify her worry.
Leon just smiled brightly, saying nothing. He thought, 'Yes, ma'am. Message received.'
Once she finished rewrapping the bandage, Caitlyn stood up and picked up the first aid kit, ready to head out.
But just as she turned to leave, Leon suddenly reached out and grabbed her wrist—firmly, almost desperately, like he didn't want to let her go.
She turned, and there he was, still sitting at the edge of the bed, head slightly bowed, eyes drifting toward the window like nothing had happened. But his grip told another story.
Caitlyn looked down at his hand, wrapped tightly around her wrist. Her lips parted slightly. "You're hurting me," she said softly.
His gaze flickered. He let go immediately. His fingers trembled, and his lips pressed together like he wanted to say something—but couldn't quite get the words out.
He turned away, fists clenched at his sides, silent.
As she looked at him—so stubborn, so prideful, but also so unsure—Caitlyn's expression slowly softened. Her eyes filled with quiet warmth.
She thought, 'So this shameless flirt who runs his mouth every day calling me cute… turns out to be ridiculously cute himself.'
And just like that, after several days, Caitlyn's hand once again came to rest on Leon's head, gently stroking his hair.
His entire body—mind included—relaxed in a way that was almost visible. Like someone had flipped off all his stress.
Caitlyn thought, 'Sweet dreams, Lord Radford.'
Caitlyn quietly closed his bedroom door behind her.
The next few days passed in a blur.
By the weekend, Leon was up early, feeling unusually cheerful.
Ever since that day when he'd grabbed Caitlyn's little hand and dragged her off on a scooter joyride, she hadn't been nearly as cold to him as he'd feared.
In fact, she now helped him change his bandages regularly. And after that, she'd sometimes even pat his head.
Strangely enough, if Caitlyn gave him a little head pat before bed, he'd sleep like a baby—deep, dreamless, and completely peaceful.
But if she didn't? Insomnia. Full-on dark circles.
Leon had started to seriously wonder if she'd cast some sort of weird spell on him… something that made him completely dependent on her.
He thought, 'Sounds like something straight out of a doujin plot.'
Humming a cheerful tune, Leon wandered over to the balcony. He slid open the glass door, letting in the cool, slightly damp morning air.
Squinting against the early sunlight, he stretched his arms wide in an overly dramatic "good morning" pose.
Rustle rustle... A soft shuffling noise came from overhead.
Leon blinked and looked up—only to see several pieces of laundry gently swaying in the breeze. Various styles. Various… colors.
His entire body froze. He could suddenly hear his own heartbeat, slow and heavy in his chest.
After a long pause, he furrowed his brow, rubbing his chin thoughtfully as he examined the scene.
"Yeah, definitely leaning toward the cute, girly side... Not bad. I like it."
As a man of refined taste, he preferred innocent charm over overt sex appeal. Sweetness always hit harder than seduction.
"…What do you think you're doing?"
A voice, quiet and trembling on the edge of collapse, floated out from behind him.
Leon froze in place. Without turning around, he calmly reached up into the clothesline… and pulled down his own underwear.
"Getting the laundry," he replied, completely straight-faced, turning to Caitlyn.
Caitlyn, red-faced, gave him a quick side glance—then quickly looked away, flustered.
She thought, 'Okay, fine—this only looks bad because he's started letting his imagination run wild after spotting… certain items.'
"…Go put your underwear back on," Caitlyn muttered, eyes shut tight, finger trembling as she pointed toward his room.
"Oh. Right."
Leon bolted without another word.
He thought, 'She almost scared me to death just now...'
As soon as the door shut, Caitlyn finally broke down. She buried her face in her hands.
"Uh—this is so embarrassing I could just die!"
Caitlyn locked herself in her room and refused to come out.
Leon wandered back out to the balcony later, only to find all the laundry had been taken down. His expression turned complicated.
He thought, 'Yup. She definitely thinks I'm a creep now... After all, I've—'
"Ugh… kill me…"
Leon dropped to his knees, face in his hands, ears burning. His whole body screamed secondhand embarrassment.
He wondered, 'What the hell was I even doing? And why—Why did she have to walk in at that exact moment?'
Eventually, after pulling himself together just enough to function, Leon slipped out and shuffled over to the breakfast shop across the street. No matter how awkward life got, you still had to eat.
When he got back, he and Caitlyn sat at opposite ends of the couch, awkwardly sharing breakfast over the small table in between them. Neither said a word.
Every so often, one of them would sneak a glance at the other—only to be caught doing exactly that, triggering a brief moment of eye contact, a flushed face, and a hasty look away.
And yet… somehow, the atmosphere wasn't entirely unpleasant.
The morning's incident had clearly triggered some mutual defense mechanism between them.
They thought, 'Right. Just pretend nothing happened. Block the memory. Suppress. Erase.'
From that point on, without any discussion, they both silently agreed: That moment on the balcony never happened.
Carrying the first aid kit, she made her way into Leon's room to change his bandages.
"…Not as messy as I expected," she said.
She glanced at his neatly made bed and felt a tiny pang of guilt. Pretty sure she hadn't properly made her bed once since moving in.
Sitting on the edge of the mattress, she waited quietly for him to return.
A faint scent lingered in the air—clean, warm, and distinctly him. She couldn't quite put it into words, but… it was oddly comforting.
Caitlyn shook her head, snapping out of it. She quickly pulled out her phone, trying to distract herself.
A few minutes later, Leon stepped in, towel draped over his head as he rubbed his still-damp hair. His dark bangs clung to his forehead, and those deep, inky eyes shimmered under the soft light.
Caitlyn looked up—then immediately looked away, her chest tightening just a little. "Dry your hair properly before you come in," she said, keeping her voice low and steady.
"'Kay…"
He didn't argue. It was like he'd only come in to check on her. With barely a pause, he turned and left the room again.
When he came back, things went smoother the second time around. Having gone through this once already, both of them were more relaxed—well, mostly.
Despite trying to stay composed, Caitlyn still blushed at the sight of his bare, well-defined torso. Leon just radiated masculine energy, and it was hard not to notice.
Still, after everything they'd been through that day, the mood between them had settled. Leon, for once, was surprisingly cooperative—quiet, still, following her instructions as she worked on changing his bandages.
But when Caitlyn saw the fresh blood seeping through the gauze and the small tears at the edges of the wound, her brows knit together.
"You got into a fight at the Guild of Hunters, didn't you?"
"…Not exactly," Leon said, scratching his cheek. "I just… gave a few A-Rank Hunters some pointers."
"That scooter—" she glanced at him sharply "—that's how you got it, isn't it?"
Leon gave a sheepish nod, eyes dropping. Under her stare, he couldn't even pretend to look confident.
Caitlyn looked at him for a long moment, then let out a soft breath, closing her eyes briefly as she forced herself to stay calm. She resumed her work without another word.
"Next time, if you're still injured—no fighting. Got it?"
"What if someone picks a fight with me?"
"Tell me," she said flatly, not even glancing up.
Leon blinked. "…And if you're not there?"
"Then punch them hard enough they don't get back up," she said calmly, meeting his eyes.
"…Alright."
"Because if you tear your stitches again, I'm the one stuck redoing the bandages," she added, lips quirking in mild annoyance—like she was trying to justify her worry.
Leon just smiled brightly, saying nothing. He thought, 'Yes, ma'am. Message received.'
Once she finished rewrapping the bandage, Caitlyn stood up and picked up the first aid kit, ready to head out.
But just as she turned to leave, Leon suddenly reached out and grabbed her wrist—firmly, almost desperately, like he didn't want to let her go.
She turned, and there he was, still sitting at the edge of the bed, head slightly bowed, eyes drifting toward the window like nothing had happened. But his grip told another story.
Caitlyn looked down at his hand, wrapped tightly around her wrist. Her lips parted slightly. "You're hurting me," she said softly.
His gaze flickered. He let go immediately. His fingers trembled, and his lips pressed together like he wanted to say something—but couldn't quite get the words out.
He turned away, fists clenched at his sides, silent.
As she looked at him—so stubborn, so prideful, but also so unsure—Caitlyn's expression slowly softened. Her eyes filled with quiet warmth.
She thought, 'So this shameless flirt who runs his mouth every day calling me cute… turns out to be ridiculously cute himself.'
And just like that, after several days, Caitlyn's hand once again came to rest on Leon's head, gently stroking his hair.
His entire body—mind included—relaxed in a way that was almost visible. Like someone had flipped off all his stress.
Caitlyn thought, 'Sweet dreams, Lord Radford.'
Caitlyn quietly closed his bedroom door behind her.
The next few days passed in a blur.
By the weekend, Leon was up early, feeling unusually cheerful.
Ever since that day when he'd grabbed Caitlyn's little hand and dragged her off on a scooter joyride, she hadn't been nearly as cold to him as he'd feared.
In fact, she now helped him change his bandages regularly. And after that, she'd sometimes even pat his head.
Strangely enough, if Caitlyn gave him a little head pat before bed, he'd sleep like a baby—deep, dreamless, and completely peaceful.
But if she didn't? Insomnia. Full-on dark circles.
Leon had started to seriously wonder if she'd cast some sort of weird spell on him… something that made him completely dependent on her.
He thought, 'Sounds like something straight out of a doujin plot.'
Humming a cheerful tune, Leon wandered over to the balcony. He slid open the glass door, letting in the cool, slightly damp morning air.
Squinting against the early sunlight, he stretched his arms wide in an overly dramatic "good morning" pose.
Rustle rustle... A soft shuffling noise came from overhead.
Leon blinked and looked up—only to see several pieces of laundry gently swaying in the breeze. Various styles. Various… colors.
His entire body froze. He could suddenly hear his own heartbeat, slow and heavy in his chest.
After a long pause, he furrowed his brow, rubbing his chin thoughtfully as he examined the scene.
"Yeah, definitely leaning toward the cute, girly side... Not bad. I like it."
As a man of refined taste, he preferred innocent charm over overt sex appeal. Sweetness always hit harder than seduction.
"…What do you think you're doing?"
A voice, quiet and trembling on the edge of collapse, floated out from behind him.
Leon froze in place. Without turning around, he calmly reached up into the clothesline… and pulled down his own underwear.
"Getting the laundry," he replied, completely straight-faced, turning to Caitlyn.
Caitlyn, red-faced, gave him a quick side glance—then quickly looked away, flustered.
She thought, 'Okay, fine—this only looks bad because he's started letting his imagination run wild after spotting… certain items.'
"…Go put your underwear back on," Caitlyn muttered, eyes shut tight, finger trembling as she pointed toward his room.
"Oh. Right."
Leon bolted without another word.
He thought, 'She almost scared me to death just now...'
As soon as the door shut, Caitlyn finally broke down. She buried her face in her hands.
"Uh—this is so embarrassing I could just die!"
Caitlyn locked herself in her room and refused to come out.
Leon wandered back out to the balcony later, only to find all the laundry had been taken down. His expression turned complicated.
He thought, 'Yup. She definitely thinks I'm a creep now... After all, I've—'
"Ugh… kill me…"
Leon dropped to his knees, face in his hands, ears burning. His whole body screamed secondhand embarrassment.
He wondered, 'What the hell was I even doing? And why—Why did she have to walk in at that exact moment?'
Eventually, after pulling himself together just enough to function, Leon slipped out and shuffled over to the breakfast shop across the street. No matter how awkward life got, you still had to eat.
When he got back, he and Caitlyn sat at opposite ends of the couch, awkwardly sharing breakfast over the small table in between them. Neither said a word.
Every so often, one of them would sneak a glance at the other—only to be caught doing exactly that, triggering a brief moment of eye contact, a flushed face, and a hasty look away.
And yet… somehow, the atmosphere wasn't entirely unpleasant.
The morning's incident had clearly triggered some mutual defense mechanism between them.
They thought, 'Right. Just pretend nothing happened. Block the memory. Suppress. Erase.'
From that point on, without any discussion, they both silently agreed: That moment on the balcony never happened.
End of Betrayed, I Knocked Demon Lord's Door Chapter 32. Continue reading Chapter 33 or return to Betrayed, I Knocked Demon Lord's Door book page.