Sweet Devil [BL]

Chapter 26. Playground

Misha didn't dare to blink and stared at little Vanessa with wide-open eyes, almost as if she were a ghost—one hell of a frightful ghost, too.

Feeling his gaze on her, the girl turned around and tilted her head slightly. Then, she smiled sweetly at Misha. Two small dimples appeared in her cheeks as her eyes curved into two adorable crescent moons, giving her the air of a doll. But in Misha's eyes, this cute expression didn't make her appear lovely but devilish instead.

'Oh crap,' Misha thought, a feeling of dread spreading in his stomach. He had the "privilege" of seeing the adult version of this particular smile quite a few times. And if anything, that sweet smile of hers was always the beginning of a big headache.

If his memory served him well, Vanessa had once told him that she had always been mischievous. Even as a child, she had had a knack for pushing her friends around—she also didn't spare total strangers. Ah, man, the poor lambs thought they had stumbled upon an angel, unaware that they had fallen prey to the devil's trap instead.

And sure enough, little Vanessa wanted to drag him into her childish scheme. It became clear as day the moment she opened her mouth.

"Are you bored?" the girl asked in a soft voice. "How about going to the playground downstairs? We could play some games!"

Misha's mouth twitched a little. After all the time he spent with Vanessa, he had long learned what kind of pest she was, and the shy and soft expression on her face didn't blind him. Whether he was bored or not, that girl didn't care in the slightest! All she wanted was a reason to leave her great-grandmother's bedside and have some fun. To her, the old lady was akin to a stranger; she seldom saw her and thus didn't feel obliged to keep her company.

Luckily, a boy of the same age seemed quite interested in her—he kept staring at her with wide-open eyes, letting her know that he was curious about her. She didn't care that he was most likely sick and bedridden; all that mattered was that she could use him as a scapegoat. He was the perfect pawn to help her sneak away.

Misha was all too aware of her train of thought, but he still couldn't refuse her, not when she looked at him with such intense eyes. Anyhow, it'd do him good to move around a bit, and talking with an old friend couldn't hurt. Maybe it'd even lift his mood.

"Why not?" Misha shrugged, getting ready to get out of bed.

However, his father begged to differ. "Misha, you're sick. You should rest, or you won't get better any time soon."

"But—!" the child whispered, lowering his gaze.

"And you're still eating."

"I'm not very hungry. I'm actually feeling full, so, please?"

"You barely touched your plate."

Misha chewed on his lower lip, poking the food with his fork. This thing wasn't very appealing, looking like a mass of unidentified matter. How could his father tell him to eat such a weird-looking meal...? Did he want his death?!

Seeing his son's action, Alexey sighed lightly and decided to compromise, "Finish your plate, then you can go play. But if you don't feel well, say it."

At these words, a smile bloomed on Misha's face. His attention then fell back onto his meal, and he wolfed down the unappealing food within seconds, afraid his father would change his mind. It drew laughter from every corner of the room, but Misha didn't pay it any heed.

On Vanessa's side, her father also wasn't too keen on the idea. After all, they had driven for hours to visit Nathalie, not to play around. Leaving the old lady's side to watch his daughter play with some unknown boy wasn't what he came here for.