I Don’t Want to Attack You! - Chapter 6

6. Romance Doesn’t Suit Me

Yevgeny’s atelier is an ancient establishment that the Yevgeny family has been operating for the fourth generation. It used to be a renowned atelier to the extent that nobles from different continents would come here by ship and have their clothes tailored. Now, due to the many skilled designers who excel in their craft and lead fashion trends, it doesn’t enjoy the same level of popularity as before.

Nevertheless, the atelier, prominently located in the city’s square, still sees a constant stream of customers. The first and second floors are boutiques, the third floor is where Mr. Martin and Ben handle their administrative duties, and the fourth floor is where our seamstresses work diligently like busy bees.

I wore a brown hood pulled up to my nose and confidently stepped on the sewing machine. Numerous strands of thread floated in the air to the point where my vision became hazy. The sound of needles, sweet and soothing, filled the air. It was less noisy and more comforting.

“Heather!”

Ben, who should have been on the third floor, approached me while waving his arms amidst the strands of thread. I finished my work and lowered the hood below my chin.

“Why?”

“I told you to take a day off, and you’ve been resting for three days straight now.”

Ben grabbed my shoulder and whispered into my ear. He seemed to have come here in a frenzy, like a frightened puppy.

“Is that crazy housecat causing trouble again?”

It was all because of Mr. Martin. He despises me the most but is also the most interested in me. He knew everything about me, from what I had for breakfast to the commissions I was working on, and even what time I came to work. Isn’t that love?

“She’s acting all arrogant just because she made it to the final round of the designer test.”

“I’ve been working here for eight years without taking a single vacation, you know? Even Mr. Yevgeny said I could take a break whenever I wanted. What’s the problem?”

“The problem is you taking a break.”

Honestly, I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly. He’s fifteen years older than me, yet his actions are like a fifteen-year-old’s. It’s terrifying; I feel like I’m going to wet myself.

“Do as you please. You’re not going to fire me anyway.”

In the atelier, there was no other seamstress as fast and skilled as me. Why did Mr. Yevgeny secretly increase only my piecework rates among the seamstresses? But Mr. Martin had no interest in how well the atelier was doing. He just wanted to establish his reign within the atelier. Since I was in his way, he naturally wanted to get rid of me. However, if I cut as I pleased, I would definitely incur Mr. Yevgeny’s wrath. So, I was just hoping to leave willingly.

Ben looked at me with a troubled expression, then patted my back. He didn’t forget to warn me to be careful since Mr. Marten was dead set on something. What was there to be careful about? If I’m going to get scolded left and right, it’s better to just damn well quit.

“Speaking of which, why did you take three days off?”

“Uh…”

Even when Mr. Martin threw a fit, my calm heart began to beat wildly.

“Header, your face is red. Were you in pain?”

Pain? I almost died. I thought my body was just going to break into pieces. When I recall the memory of that night, my pelvis starts to ache again. My hand instinctively goes to the waist that ached all day long, like a habit.

I saw a demon. Shaking under his weight, I sincerely sought God. Please, knock this guy’s head and make him pass out. But Ashur, who was born with the love of God, grew more skilled as time went on, rather than getting tired. He pushed me to the extreme of pleasure to the point where I couldn’t think of anything else.

Before I knew it, my body was covered inside and out with fluid. Later on, I couldn’t even open my eyes because of the liquid that had dripped down my cheeks. I couldn’t close my mouth because I was moaning mixed with tears.

The monstrous hardness that filled below finally came out with great difficulty. Finally, it was over, and I lay on the bed. Ashur supported my neck and gave me water. And then the intense intimacy continued.

It wasn’t until morning that Ashur let go of me. It was time for the dawn prayer. O Lord, thank you. I looked at Ashur, who was tidying up the surroundings with heavy eyes. How could such a guy have survived with compassion? It’s a mystery of the century.

I woke up late in the afternoon. I could see the sunset beyond the open window, and the gentle breeze tangled in my hair. I barely blinked my eyes while lying down. If Ashur hadn’t woken me up, I wouldn’t have been able to get up until tomorrow.

“I told the costume room manager that you’ll stay one more day at the temple because I personally asked the seamstress for a favor.”

Ashur’s voice came from behind with a faint smell of grilled fish. I checked my body condition while lying down. My throat felt like it had swallowed thorns, and the muscles of my pelvis, neck, lower back, and forearms felt sore as if I had done hard labor.

The bodily fluids that covered my body had completely disappeared, and the bedding felt as soft as new. Despite being a light sleeper, the fact that I couldn’t wake up while Ashur washed me and changed the bedding made it clear how intense the intimacy of the previous night had been.

“I don’t think taking just one day off is enough.”

“Then, how about staying for a few more days? I can arrange for someone to cover for you in the costume room…”

“It’s okay.”

I replied with a voice that sounded like it was about to die. As I got up, the collar of the gown Ashur always wore fell down to my shoulders. I was covered in bite marks and chewed-up spots everywhere you could see. I couldn’t help but chuckle at the absurdity of it all. When I raised my head, Ashur twitched his shoulders as if he had been stabbed.

“You said you didn’t have preferences.”

“…I said I didn’t know, not that I didn’t have any.”

You must be quite the character. When I tried to get out of the gown that had come undone and crawled out clumsily, Ashur hurriedly supported me.

“Are you leaving?”

“Yes, I have to.”

“Rest for one more day. Besides, no one enters my bedroom except me anyway.”

“I’d like to, but I have a job waiting for me like a desperate rabbit.”

I declined the dinner Ashur had brought, and I also stopped him from offering to take me to the temple. Already, strange rumors had been circulating about me ever since I undressed him, and if anyone saw us leaving the priest’s quarters together, it would only cause more trouble.

Instead, Ashur summoned a carriage to take me to the temple. The distance from the temple to my house was simply too far to walk, and it would have been burdensome to call a carriage at my own expense, so I didn’t refuse that.

On the way home, I stopped by the costume room and applied for three days off. However, during that time, did I really rest deeply? That was not the case.

Before going to the temple, I had received a notice from Olga for a costume room designer recruitment advertisement. Although the opportunity for opera costume design had flown away disappointingly, this time, I planned to challenge it properly without making any mistakes.

In the end, the only time I could consider as a rest was half a day spent in Ashur’s bedroom. As soon as I returned home, I limped to Chevanya’s costume room when the sun rose. I thoroughly examined the costumes and accessories displayed in the showroom and recorded all the frequently used colors, patterns, and materials. Then, I thought about the perspective of a designer who was about to submit their work. Why would they want to break conventions and take risks?

The costumes newly introduced in Chevanya’s costume room differed only in the fabric depending on the season, and most of them were not significantly different from last year’s season. Trends change every year, but the showroom was filled with unchanging and tedious presentations. It was just a cliché design, lacking the unique identity of the costume room.

To increase the acceptance rate, it was not advisable to completely break the mold of Chevanya’s costume room. Despite criticism, sticking to the same design was a matter of pride beyond stubbornness. I pondered how to preserve their pride while infusing freshness into the designs. That would be the key to passing.

After finishing my three-day break and struggling with the mounting work in the costume room, my mind was filled with thoughts of test designs. I was determined to complete them and submit them by next week, igniting my passion.

“Header, there’s a delivery.”

“Again?”

“Mr. Martine ordered it, what can I do?”

As Ben had predicted, Mr. Martine was deliberately delegating all the miscellaneous tasks in the costume room to me. Even though there were hired workers to move supplies, he sent them to me, claiming there was a shortage of labor. He even asked me to come and remove mushrooms that had inexplicably grown in his backyard in the early hours of the morning.

What am I doing here right now? As I carried a large, nameless mushroom back home, I felt a deep sense of regret. If there were a contest to select the most pitiful human in the world, a 25-year-old woman who rushed out in a panic at the sound of a doorbell without even blinking would surely be the winner.

“Where are you going this time?”

“Charlotte Street, number 31.”

Despite delivery not being part of a seamstress’s duties, the audacity of repeatedly requesting deliveries annoyed me. However, after a week of doing strange odd jobs, this delivery felt relatively manageable. It was just a 15-minute walk, and the items were light enough to carry with two hands. It’s fine. What am I getting used to again? I must be crazy. I accepted the silk-wrapped box that Ben handed to me.

“What’s the exact address?”

“Um, Heather.”

As I was about to leave, Ben called me urgently with an anxious tone.