102: Warming up to him

Warming up to him

3It was a horrifying experience.

Adela's surroundings had transformed into a nightmarish spectacle. Bright colors relentlessly assaulted her vision, their texture causing excruciating pain in her eyes. Each color seemed to scream inside her head.

She struggled to breathe, as each breath felt like inhaling shards of cactus into her lungs. Her arms felt alien, thrashing against the mattress beneath her until they were abruptly restrained behind her back.

"Don't hurt yourself," Egon's anguished voice pleaded.

"Burns... Burning!" She heard someone shrieking in the background, and she wondered who else in this unfamiliar place was suffering the same torment as her.

Her lower body had lost all sensation, rendering her unable to move it. But felt like an unending torrent of scorching wax pouring over her leg.

"I'll make it go away," Egon promised, his voice strained as if he, too, was engulfed in flames.

Was he experiencing the same burning agony?

"Don't... hurt..." she tried to utter the word 'yourself', but as the fire subsided, her entire body, including her face, grew numb.

"I'll never hurt you," he assured her, a note of relief in his voice.

Afterward, she slipped into a deep slumber.

***

Where was I again?

"Relax... It's still early... Or late..." Egon's warm voice rumbled next to her ear and just below her hand.

"Don't wake me up," she complained with a small voice.

This time, a playful rumble emanated from him. "Sleep," he urged, and she felt something soft graze her forehead twice.

"..."

Every muscle in Adela's body was taut, stretched to the limit, when a surge of pure fear shot through her.

"...The sleeping bag is made of buffalo hide. I covered you with the second one, but you kept shivering. I had to come inside to warm you, and I won't apologize for it," 

Her senses gradually returned, each one perceiving the situation in a unique way. Her ears caught the rapid pace of his racing heart. Her skin registered the intense heat and moisture of his body against hers. Her lungs filled with his potent masculine scent, both enticing and ominous. And when she opened her eyes and looked up, she found her head resting on his shoulder, his warm topaz eyes gazing at her as if she were something sacred.

As her hand brushed against the long scar on his chest, Egon shivered.

Adela struggled to find words, overwhelmed by shame that had begun to consume her.

"Don't do this," he warned. "We haven't done anything wrong."

Wrong? What was right about the situation she found herself in?

"...It's too warm in here for you," she mumbled the first thing on her mind.

"That's not why I haven't slept yet," he responded.

"Oh..." Adela's shame engulfed her, drowning her. "I... I will put on something then..."

"You'll feel colder if you do," 

"But... how can a man sleep in a situation like this...?" 

"Whether you're dressed or undressed, it makes no difference to me," he stated.

His words dealt a blow to her sense of womanhood, causing her to sit up straight, the sleeping bag tugging slightly at its stitched sides.

"The countless women your eyes have seen unclothed for this to hold no significance for you anymore... Must be truly fascinating..."

Egon chuckled again. 

"I've witnessed you in ragged attire, in ill-fitting armor... I've seen you adorned in finery too... and that one instance when only your eyes were visible," he said, his tone laced with anger. "Never have I not resisted you... and I continue to resist you."

It didn't make sense, yet her spine ignited with a fiery sensation, vertebra by vertebra, as his gaze trailed down to the small of her back, even without her seeing him.

"Lie down, will you?" He groaned.

She complied and obediently lay back down, being careful not to touch him, which was no easy task, especially with the stinging pain in the back of her knee. The only escape she felt she had left was to close her eyes. She made a decision not to open them again as long as Egon was next to her.

"Sleep," he urged.

"..."

"If you're not going to sleep, talk about anything," he complained.

"...Can I ask you anything?"

"What is it?"

With Egon's well-built physique, the word 'tensing' felt inadequate.

"That day in the forest... Did the mythical vampire... Was that what bit you?"

She both felt and heard the rumble in his chest as he chuckled lightly. She resisted the urge to place her ear against his chest to hear him more clearly.

"Using indirect questions doesn't suit you,"

She was puzzled.

"Ask me directly if I was a vampire," he clarified.

"You're not," she responded with unwavering conviction.

"Just because I managed not to drink from you?" 

"It's not that," she replied, "You said that you have been stuck between two things for a long time, and being a vampire is very... final."

He chuckled some more as if finding amusement in the dark conversation.

"You have a very good memory, My Lady,"

Her memory was average, but she couldn't admit that repeating their conversations kept her up at night.

He let out a sigh when she didn't comment. "My transformation was never complete, so you are right, I am not a vampire. But that doesn't mean I am human either."

She couldn't help but let out a laugh herself this time. "You can't convince me of your humanity anymore, even if you tried."

At least he didn't find this remark amusing.

"Why was it never complete?" she whispered.

"He wanted to give me a choice, one that he was never given," 

"And you chose not to complete it?"

"Yes... It came with a heavy price," he admitted.3

Reluctant to pry further into his personal affairs, she hesitated to ask about the price. It felt like crossing an invisible line between them. 

"...Your body seems to have finally warmed up. I will sleep outside,"

She opened her eyes again and watched him as he watched her, his entire face warm and tender, it was a late realization, but she truly did not want him to go. 

"...In this cold?" Was all she could say to try to persuade him to stay. 

"It doesn't bother me... Neither of us will sleep if I stay here,"

He moved stealthily, gracefully leaving the sleeping bag and standing up without a care for his lack of clothing. She blushed, keeping her eyes up, they lingered on the scars on his back as he bent down to wrap a piece of cloth around his waist. With a sinking heart, she watched him exit the tent, feeling a sense of emptiness in his absence.

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