As the days go on, Guzma continues to recover. He starts to leave his room more since that morning, though he moves slower and more carefully than he normally would. He's impatient with the process of healing, and doesn't rest as much as he probably should, especially when, more often than not, his trips around the mansion are an excuse to find her.

Things had taken an unexpected (and for once, good) turn. When he had collapsed beyond the border, he thought for sure she would leave him there. He's not sure that he could have blamed her if she did. But, not only had she brought him back, she had, by some miracle, stayed. He's in disbelief that she's still here. What's more is that she actually seems interested in being around him. From what he can tell, she likes their conversations as much as he does. As he gets nearer to full recovery, he's pretty sure she's making up as many excuses to seek him out as he is to seek her out, even at night when he's transformed. It makes a world of difference to have someone else to talk to at night; to not feel so alone. For the first time in a very long time, things seem to be coming up Guzma.

He's still doing his best to suppress any hopes he has of her being the one to break the curse. It's a weight he doesn't want to put on her and a hope he doesn't want to elevate in case it comes crashing down. Besides, can someone fall in love with that kind of pressure? How genuine can it be when you know there's a specific reason that emotion is being cultivated? So he does his best to avoid thinking about it, though it's hard when he sees how weak Comfey gets each day.

It's easier to avoid thoughts of the curse when he's with her. When he's alone, there's no escaping the creeping reminders of the impending day Comfey will pass. Even when hanging around Plumeria, Liam, or any of the grunts, it's hard not to look at them and feel guilt for the situation his actions have put them in. And it's especially impossible to silence the doubts he feels in regards to her. Even without the curse, would she ever consider being with someone like him? He can't imagine she would.

But when they're together, they never seem to run out of things to chat about. He likes that she has a tendency to put him in his place with her gentle teasing that some part of him likes to believe is actually flirting. More than anything, he likes when she laughs, because every time she does, it sends some sort of tingling through his chest that always forces him to smile. When she's around, and when she seems to enjoy being around him, all those swirling thoughts and insecurities are silenced, at least for a little while. Even if this doesn't result in the curse being broken, he's happy that she happened upon Po Town.

He knows at least part of the reason why she's stayed. She'd told him a few times now of her love for novels. She's a bookworm, and this town and its curse are every bit as unbelievable and exciting as any of the stories she's read. Guzma's a bit surprised to hear that from her. After years and years of living with the curse, he'd forgotten how strange it must be to those outside.

He'd hesitated for a couple days, but he decides to take her to a room no one has used for a while. A room holding something that he knows she'll like. But it had also been a room he had avoided because of certain memories, but if it meant doing something nice for her, well, he'd take her there anyway.

He'd found her in the dining hall, quietly sipping on yet another cup of Tapu Cocoa - she liked the stuff possibly even more than he did. He sat down next to her, and she smirked at him, pushing her cup towards him and saying "Want some?" knowing he'd reject it due to the whipped cream.

He pushes it back. "Sorry, I only drink good things."

"Oh come on," she says, nudging it back towards him again. "How long has it been since you've had whipped cream? You never know! Your tastes might have changed."

He sighs. "If I do this, you gotta come with me. I wanna show you something."

"I'd go anyway, but sure," she laughs.

He takes a sip from her cup of cocoa, wrinkling his nose as a glob of whipped cream comes with it.

"It's not that bad," she says, bumping him with an elbow.

"It's alright, but you don't add to perfection." He gets to his feet and pulls her chair out, wincing a little bit at the pain it causes his still recovering ribs. "Now, come on, let's go!"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm going, Big Bad Wolf."

Guzma smiles at the nickname as they leave the dining hall. He leads her through the mansion, explaining what he can. "Shady House is pretty big, ya know? A lot of it Team Skull will use or occupy, but certain rooms have sorta been forgotten or avoided over the years. This is one of them. Grunts used to go in there a lot, but once you've been through whats in there... well, you'll see."

She looks at him quizzically.

"Just trust me. You'll like it." They're getting closer now. He stops and turns towards her. He wants this to be as much of a surprise as possible. "Close your eyes," he tells her.

She closes them, but then he realizes he'll have to lead her if she can't see where she's going. He hesitates there a moment, scratching at the back of his neck. Then he moves towards her and cautiously takes her hand. To his relief, she smiles at this. He leads her onwards until they're finally at the door.

He opens the door, switches on the light, and gently pulls her inside. "Ok, you can look now," he tells her, watching her face and anxiously awaiting her reaction. He continues to hold her hand, wanting to extend that moment for as long as he can and hoping that she doesn't mind.

Her eyes open and immediately light up in surprise and wonder. Her mouth falls slack a bit as she looks around, taking in the room. Then she looks at him and gives him the warmest smile he thinks he's ever seen. So warm it feels as if something has melted in his chest.

The room is full of shelves and shelves of books lining the walls. Scattered across the center of the room are various pieces of furniture to read on. "It's a reading room," he tells her. "My mom, she liked to read a lot. Especially when she..." he trails off a bit, not sure he's ready to bring up such a subject. "Just - she liked to read. Pretty awesome, right?"

"Are you kidding? It's amazing!" she says, moving further into the room. He finally drops her hand, allowing her to explore. He watches her move about, trying to commit to memory the excited way she's going along the shelves, reading the titles on the book spines, and telling him what she knows of what she finds there. She's so passionate about it, and he finds that seeing her happy is making him pretty happy himself.

He laughs and leans against the wall. "You like it, huh? Well, it's all yours. Everyone else kinda long lost interest in this room."

She stops her exploration and comes back over to him, beaming. She pauses for a moment, bouncing on her toes a bit and looking unsure. When she moves forward and embraces him, he's so shocked he doesn't react at first. Then he gingerly wraps his arms around her back, barely able to believe this current situation.

"Thank you for showing me this," she says.

"Yeah, of course!" they break apart, and his hand is instantly at the back of his head as he looks at her sheepishly. It'd been a long time since anything made him feel as awkward as trying to navigate what exactly it is he feels for her and how to react to it. Especially how to keep it at bay and avoid getting his hopes up about anything.

She goes back to searching through the books, settling on one, and plopping down on one of the couches to start reading. He prepares to walk away and leave her to it when she says, "When's the last time you read anything?"

"I haven't - haven't read much in here I suppose." This was one of the rooms he avoided for the memories it could spark. They weren't exactly bad ones, but they could be mournful.

"Why don't you give it a try? Get out of Po Town for a while? Sort of anyway."

He considers this a moment, then comes back in. Maybe it was time the room brought him happier memories. He glances around the shelves, unsure what to pick up. She joins him, gently setting her book open on the couch and browses with him. Then she pulls a book from the self and hands it to him. "For you, this one."

He looks at the cover. "Call of the Wild?"

"Yeah you should be able to relate," she laughs.

Guzma rolls his eyes.

"Just trust me. You'll like it," she says, repeating his words from earlier and bumping him with her shoulder.

She goes back to the couch, and he joins her. They sit, reading together for a while until he begins to become drowsy. Healing still required more sleep then he was currently allowing himself. He yawns, and she yawns too. He supposed being the only human in the mansion was rough as far as sleep was concerned. She seemed to enjoy talking to and being around Team Skull, and so her sleep schedule had surely become a bit disrupted. Between staying up to interact with them during the day, and keeping him company at night, she'd taken to napping at random times - not exactly the healthiest of sleep patterns. Guzma feels his eyes start to droop.

He's not sure when or how exactly it happens, but he wakes up hours later to find that they'd fallen asleep on each other. She's leaning with her head on his shoulder, body pressed into him, and her book slipping off of her lap. He's got an arm around her and his head is resting on hers, his book fallen to the ground. He doesn't move for a moment; confused, and also embarrassingly pleased with their closeness. Was this too much? Was he allowing himself to get too close to her in other ways? Was the feeling that grows with every passing day, every smile, every conversation genuine? Or is it just desperate hope? It feels real. It feels like whatever's been planted in his chest is starting to sprout from an honest place. But how could he be certain?

Guzma looks out the window at the fading light and knows he'll transform soon. He gently (and reluctantly) removes himself from her and lays her on the couch so she can sleep longer. He stops her book from falling, careful to make sure to save her place, and leaves it open on the arm of the couch for her. Her hair has fallen in her face, so he brushes it back behind her ear, wishing he could've stayed longer and just continued napping on the couch with her.

But, of course, there is this curse. Then there's also everything he'd done to earn it. Even if his feelings are genuine, she deserved better than what he could offer. Maybe he should quit while he's ahead? Maybe he should cut off this growing feeling before something inevitably happens to cause it to wilt and die? Questions to ask himself when he's alone in his room, transformed into a monster. He closes the door behind him, leaving her to rest.