AB Chapter 18: My Full Marks of Gentleness, Only for You
Michel never thought of Simon as a dangerous person.
Even though he looked like a handsome King Kong.
Even though he liked pulling guns out of suitcases.
Even though his chest muscles were strong enough to burst a size-up shirt...
Whenever Michel thought of Simon, what always came to mind were those warm amber eyes, like sunlight and dew, looking at him with hunched shoulders and a pitiful little smile, softly calling him “Baby.”
That image of Mr. Bumblebee had been deeply ingrained in his mind.
So today, when he saw Simon gripping Eric’s head, issuing death threats and revealing his fierce, aggressive alpha side... that feeling, that sense of upheaval—
It was like—
Like your devoted little puppy suddenly turns into a terrifying three-headed dog guarding the gates of hell!
Everyone else sees a monster and screams that they’re about to be eaten, while the creature spits out the person it just devoured, trembling as it stares at the slipper raised in your hand.
“Master, please don’t hit me on the head?”
(Whimper~)
Michel: …
So... terrified, but also kind of turned on?
“Baby, baby?”
Michel snapped back to reality, his eyes finally focusing. Reflected in Simon’s black-and-white eyes was his own face. Simon immediately grinned and bent down, eyes sparkling as he stared at a little flower sticking straight up from Michel’s hair.
“Baby, your flower suddenly stood up straight and lifted your hat—haha, so cute.”
Michel: …And you still have the nerve to laugh? That’s because you scared me!
He rubbed the goosebumps on his arm, then carefully touched the little flower under his hat. Remembering his wild imagination from earlier, the fear in his eyes turned into amusement as he looked at Simon again.
What was there to be afraid of? He was so gentle. When he looked at Michel, it was like little stars twinkled in his eyes.
Even if others saw him as terrifying,
In Michel’s heart, he would always be Mr. Bumblebee.
“Let’s go in too.”
As if the clouds had parted, Michel exhaled and looked at the bright, welcoming entrance to the classroom, so different from usual. A smile tugged at his lips. “If we don’t hurry, we’ll be late.”
Without waiting for a reply, Michel grabbed Mr. Bumblebee’s hand again and took a deep breath of the crisp, refreshing air as he ran inside.
The wind lifted the soft black bangs on his forehead. It was cold—but his chest felt warm.
Maybe it was because he finally had someone to rely on. Maybe it was the confidence from having a strong protector? Michel didn’t understand yet. It would take him a while to realize: this feeling is called having a strong backing, free from worries.
All he knew now was—he had never walked into this dreaded school with such a light and carefree stride…
Simon followed him quickly, tilting his head as he watched Michel’s back. He didn’t understand why Michel’s flower was smiling, but when the black-haired young man smiled, Mr. Bumblebee’s heart became a slice of chiffon cake—
Soft, sweet.
Mmm.
Probably delicious, too.
On the way, they ran into Benny, who had parked the car and come running in out of worry. His freckled face was flushed, and he asked breathlessly, “What happened? Eric didn’t mess with you, right? A ton of students headed into the classroom just now—did they stop watching? Or did he hit you?!”
“I’m fine.” Michel smiled, suppressing a strange excitement in his heart. He punched Benny lightly in the chest. “Relax, Simon scared him off. Bro, you should’ve seen Eric’s terrified face.”
Just thinking about it made him laugh again.
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Whoa—cool!”
Benny’s eyes widened with delight. He laughed and gave Simon a thumbs-up. “Told you this plan would work. Your boyf—uh, friend is way bigger than Eric. I wouldn’t be surprised if he could beat up ten Erics!”
“Too bad I didn’t see it in person. Man, what a missed opportunity… I’d trade a whole football game to see that jerk Eric and his crew scared out of their minds. Ugh, I wish I’d been there!”
Benny scrunched his face dramatically, raising his brows and pouting. Michel stifled a laugh, and Simon gently brushed the snow off Benny’s shoulder, wiping away the melted droplets.
Even Benny, who was trying to lighten the mood, started laughing with them—until he saw that tender moment and was force-fed a mouthful of dog food.
Alright, alright.
Benny rubbed his nose. Looks like I need a girlfriend too. Even Michel’s got someone to dote on him now. Sigh, how is a handsome guy like me still single? Tsk, unbelievable~
But where am I gonna find a girlfriend who can scare off Eric? A female boxer?
He imagined himself being princess-carried by a muscle-bound girlfriend and shivered in horror.
The three chatted all the way to class. When they finally heard the faint sound of the school bell, they checked their watches—“Crap!”—Michel and Benny went pale, dragging Mr. Bumblebee along as they sprinted toward the classroom.
Luckily, the professor was late too, so they slipped in and got to their seats unnoticed, making it through morning class unscathed.
Michel and Benny were both studying “Literature,” specifically revisions of historical texts—a field practically useless in this age of heavy weaponry. The only reason it was still around was thanks to government subsidies.
Tuition was cheap, the program easy to enter, and it came with stipends.
So, the people in the major were usually either poor or academic underachievers. Michel was the former; Benny was the latter.
The large lecture hall was nearly empty in the front rows. The old professor, in a suit and glasses, calmly lectured using a microphone and computer. Meanwhile, the students below him were spinning pens or scrolling through Twitter. Only a couple of them were actually paying attention.
Occasionally, the sounds of explosions from the enclosed labs below—where wealthy students played with virtual mech suits—would pierce the soundproof walls and distract everyone.
Clearly, students all over the world had one thing in common: if they weren’t focused, they wanted some fun.
Now part alien plant, Michel sat diligently taking notes—while the tall man behind him, arms folded, stared down anyone who looked at his flower.
When someone whispered and turned to look at Michel, they’d see the looming Mr. Bumblebee glaring at them, lips curled downward, muscles bulging under tight fabric, radiating a murderous aura like a hound crouching behind a pile of bones.
“Did you just look at my flower?”
“You like my flower? You want to steal it?”
“No? I don’t believe you!”
“You did look at it!”
“You’re dead—!”
The fierce hornet’s villainous grin was terrifying (with bonus insanity).
Curious students: “…”
No ordinary girl could handle the stare of a combat-class hornet. They’d sheepishly turn back, sweating, until his gaze finally moved away.
Distracted students: I feel like there’s a gun to the back of my head—and it’s a freaking cannon!
One student dropped their pen and tried to turn around—only to be met with a death glare.
Mr. Bumblebee (smiling): Want to duel? I’m 182 caliber.
Student: …
Mr. Bumblebee (grinning): One shot and you're gone from the waist up.
Student: …
Cough.
Maybe I’ll just buy a new pen… Maybe this is God’s way of telling me that one’s done.
[Author's Note – Little Theater]
Little Flower: All the classmates are so nice today. They’re looking at me with such gentle eyes.
Classmates: …Yeah, maybe look at what’s sitting behind you.
Little Flower: It’s just a little chilly behind me.
Bumblebee: (quietly turns down his threat-level setting)
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