[BL] Transmigrated as the Villain CEO's Mermaid Secretary

The door clicked shut behind Grayson with a hiss. Neville stood frozen for exactly three seconds before his knees buckled. He slid down the wall like a marionette with cut strings, landing on the floor. His legs splayed out in front of him, still trembling from the adrenaline that had kept him going without suspicion.

He is done.

Done, done.

Really, done.

His hands rose to cover his face. It did nothing to erase the memory of Grayson’s silver eyes watching him with that unreadable expression. That seemed to see right through his act of innocence.

"Oh damn," he muttered into his palms. "Damn it, damn it, damn it!"

In fact, he wasn’t at all innocent.

He did all that knowingly.

Take it as his poor attempt at seduction.

His brain helpfully replayed the afternoon’s highlights; Neville’s face burned hot.

[Uwaah~ Host, reality hits differently than the books! ♡〜٩( ✧ ڡ ✧ )۶〜♡]

Shelly popped out with all sorts of fireworks displays. There were digital sparkles and animated flowers around her. There were even petals drifting down in a cheerful color of pink and red.

Neville’s hands dropped from his face. He stared at Shelly with a flat, dead-eyed expression of a man who had reached the absolute limit of his emotional capacity for the day.

"Are you for real?" The words came out strangled, somewhere between a laugh and a sob.

Shelly bounced in the air, completely oblivious or perhaps deliberately ignoring Neville. Her bright, animated eyes sparkled with manic enthusiasm. It seemed that she had been waiting this whole time to have this conversation. However, the digital flowers continued to assault his eyes, multiplying endlessly throughout the room like a virtual garden.

She was totally lost in her own world.

[Coz like—] Shelly paused mid-speech, floating closer.

She positioned herself directly in front of Neville’s face. Her googly eyes were way, way too close to his face. He could only describe it as her smothering him.

[Host! How come you don’t understand?!] Her voice pitched higher with each word. [You’re supposed to love these BL moments!]

"I do!" Neville protested, reaching up to physically push Shelly’s body away from his face. "But this is completely different."

His hand managed to squeeze her away, but she continued to resist, forcing him to try to squeeze her smaller with both hands. When he released Shelly, he also hauled himself up from the floor. His legs still felt like jelly, but at least he could stand properly again.

"Reality is often different from books," Neville said, explaining like a teacher.

Shelly’s googly eyes performed what could only be described as the most exaggerated eye roll in history. They rotated a complete 360 degrees, somehow managing to convey every ounce of teenage disdain.

[Reality is often different from books. Nyah nyah nyah~] She mimicked his serious tone with a mocking singsong that made Neville’s eye twitch. [Don’t even try to deny it, host. You already made it worse by acting like that earlier.]

Her body wobbled in the air like she was trying not to laugh. Or trying not to die from secondhand embarrassment as she remembered the scene.

Neville’s jaw clenched. His eyes narrowed dangerously as he stared down this traitorous shell. Finally, his lips pressed into a thin line as if to restrain himself from giving another squeeze.

"And you just watched it all happen," he said slowly, enunciating each word gravely, "and didn’t even try to come out and help?"

But even if Neville said it like that, Shelly still had her head floating above in the heavens. She was not in the mood to be reasonable at all.

Shelly heaved an exaggerated sigh, the kind that belonged in a period drama when the heroine learned her beloved had gone off to war. Digital wind somehow ruffled her non-existent hair, and so it did to its ’tentacles’.

[Host, you know the difference between reading and watching?] she began.

"What is?" Neville asked, his tone flat, barely humoring her.

[I see everything in visual form!] She exclaimed.

It was followed by more roses materializing around them, like the most enthusiastic floral wedding.

Shelly began to spin in circles, her body practically vibrating with glee. [The charm and love with pink bubbles are clearly reflected in the live format!]

"Damn it." Neville covered his face with one hand, peeking through his fingers like he was watching a horror movie. "You’re worse than I thought."

But Shelly was already moving, zooming toward the dining table with enthusiasm. Her eyes had transformed into giant digital hearts, pulsing in time with some invisible romantic soundtrack.

[That secret gaze you gave to each other while eating! (❤ ω ❤)]

She zipped past the table toward the sofa, leaving a trail of sparkles in her wake.

[That half of a hug that you shared! (/∇＼*)｡o○♡]

Neville felt his face heat up again. "That—It wasn’t—"

[That coat he gave you to keep you from being exposed in the cold, temperature-controlled room! (っ˘ڡ˘ς)♡]

Neville didn’t know if Shelly was hearing herself contradicting her words.

Shelly was obviously not aware and wrapped her invisible arms around herself. She began twirling in circles like a music box ballerina.

The digital roses multiplied.

The sparkles intensified.

If romance had a physical manifestation, it would probably look exactly like this nauseating display.

Neville realized something while watching this display. He glanced down at himself.

Oh. He had forgotten to return Grayson’s coat. Again.

The expensive fabric still draped over his shoulders, warm and smelling faintly of fresh water pheromones and something distinctly Grayson.

This was the third coat.

The third coat he had somehow acquired from his boss and completely forgotten to return.

What did that say about him as a person? As an employee? Together with that photo, didn’t that say everything about him? That he was a creepy stalker and a thief?

Neville felt a headache coming.

Nothing good could come from those facts.

[AH~!]

Shelly’s sudden exclamation made Neville jump. She had flopped onto the sofa with all the dramatic flair of a Victorian lady having vapors, draping herself across the small decorative pillow like she was posing for a painting.

[Youth~]