NOVGO.NET Chapter 1925: Shame Tastes Less Bitter When There’s Sugar
Chapter 1925: Shame Tastes Less Bitter When There’s Sugar
Villain Ch 1925. Shame Tastes Less Bitter When There’s Sugar
She didn’t say a word. Not at first. Just walked until she was beside him, then leaned next to the railing. Her presence was light, unbothered. But not fake.
Out of everyone, Jane didn’t tease when it mattered.
She looked up at the stars starting to peek through the indigo sky. Her voice was low. “You still think you were stupid?”
Allen didn’t respond right away.
“I was,” he said eventually. “I knew what she was doing. Part of me knew. I just didn’t want it to be true.”
Jane nodded slowly. “So you gambled.”
He glanced at her. “And lost.”
She tilted her head. “Maybe. But you learned.”
He laughed under his breath. “Learned what? That I’m pathetic when I fall?”
“No,” she said. “That you’re not invincible when it comes to love.”
He went silent again.
Jane reached into the pocket of her hoodie and pulled out a tiny piece of chocolate. Unwrapped it. Offered it without looking at him.
Allen raised a brow. “What’s this for?”
“Shame tastes less bitter when there’s sugar.”
He snorted and took it.
It was good. Creamy. Sweet.
They stood in silence again. The stars above them multiplied. Below, the light from the villa spilled out into the dark, warm and safe.
Then Jane said, “You know… it’s okay to have wanted love.”
He looked at her sharply, but she didn’t flinch.
“It’s not weak,” she added. “To want to be seen. To hope someone stays. That’s not shameful, Allen. That’s human.”
Allen looked away. Eyes narrowed.
“I just hate how easy it was,” he whispered. “One smile, one compliment… and I was hooked. Like a fool.”
“You weren’t a fool,” Jane said. “You were lonely.”
He stiffened.
“You wanted someone to pick you. Not for power. Not for potential. Just for being you.”
“…And she pretended.”
“Yeah,” Jane said quietly. “She did.”
Silence again. Except now it was heavier.
Jane turned toward him, her dark eyes catching the faint porch light. “But you’re not that same boy anymore, Allen.”
“I know.”
“You’ve changed.”
“I had to.”
“No.” She reached out, brushed a strand of hair from his forehead, soft and sure. “You chose to.”
That landed.
Right in the chest.
He blinked.
Jane smiled faintly. “You could’ve turned cold. Shut everyone out. Become a monster. But instead… you built this. Us.”
Allen swallowed. Looked down. “I didn’t mean to.”
“But you did.” She stepped closer, hand brushing his. “And we’re real, Allen. Not a trick. Not a trap. We’re here because we want to be.”
He exhaled shakily.
“…Even if I’m still kind of an asshole?”
“Especially because,” she smirked.
That finally pulled a laugh from him. A real one.
He bumped her shoulder lightly. “Thanks, Jane.”
“Anytime,” she said softly, eyes still on the night sky.
Allen leaned against the railing again, staring out at the horizon that was now soaked in starlight. The villa behind them hummed faintly with warmth and laughter—his people, his chaos, his strange, imperfect peace.
“Y’know,” he said after a while, voice lower, almost a whisper, “sometimes I feel like all of this is a dream.”
Jane glanced at him. “Yeah?”
He nodded, exhaling through his nose. “You… me… and all the girls. The relationship. The fights we survived. How the hell did I get here?”
He laughed under his breath, but there was something fragile in it. “I don’t get it. I love it. I cherish it. I’m happy for it. But still… how can I reach this point? I don’t understand it. I never thought I’d have it.”
Jane leaned her arms on the railing beside him, close enough that their shoulders brushed. The night breeze tangled her hair a little. “Me neither,” she admitted quietly. “But hey—” she turned her head, giving him a small, teasing smile “—I’m here. We’re here. And I guess life’s full of unexpected stuff, huh?”
He looked at her, smiling faintly.
She chuckled. “Like quests without notifications. You just stumble into one, and before you realize it, you’ve got a team, a base, and a dozen rewards you didn’t even know you were fighting for.”
Allen’s grin softened. “And punishments too.”
Jane tilted her head. “Depends on the route you pick.”
He smirked. “Guess I got lucky.”
She nudged him lightly with her elbow. “Guess you did.”
They stood there a little longer, just breathing—his laughter blending with the hum of the night.
Then she tilted her head toward the door.
“You ready to come back in?” she asked. “Bella said she’s gonna eat your steak if you don’t return in five.”
“Like hell she is.”
“There’s that fire.”
He turned, shoulders lighter now. Not fixed. But a little less heavy.
Allen muttered just loud enough, “…Still gonna punch my past self in the face, though.”
Jane grinned.
“No. Don’t punch him. He’s doing better than you think.”
Allen huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head, the last of that heavy air melting between them. The night breeze toyed with his hair, cool against his flushed face. Jane tilted her head slightly, eyes soft but sharp—the kind of look that saw straight through his walls.
“Without him,” she said quietly, “you aren’t the you now. You learned, Allen. That’s what matters.”
Her tone wasn’t pity. It was certainty. A simple truth spoken without judgment.
Allen stared at her for a moment, the porch light catching the edge of her smirk, the glint of something almost tender behind all her usual chaos. Yeah… Jane might’ve been the weirdest of them all—reading too many dark romance novels, joking about blood oaths and collar play—but when it came down to it, she understood him better than anyone.
“Thank you,” he murmured, voice low, steady.
She arched an eyebrow, like she was about to tease him, but before she could, Allen leaned in and kissed her. Just once. Soft. Warm. Real.
When they pulled apart, Jane’s grin had softened into something else. Something proud.
“C’mon,” he said, slipping his hand into hers. “Let’s go back before Bella really eats my steak.”
Jane laughed, squeezing his hand once before they stepped inside together, the noise and warmth of the villa pulling them back from the quiet edge of the night.