The Strings Between Us

The Quiet Between Us

"You always pretend to be the villain," she said. "But you're not."

"Yes, I am," he stated, looking down at her.

"Then why do I feel safer with you than I ever did in the human world?"

He didn't have an answer.

And maybe he didn't need one.

"You're a strange girl.." He muttered under his breath.

"You're one to talk."

A smug crept on his face when she said that.

~~~

When the wound was clean and the salve applied, Belinda didn't stand.

She stayed beside him, resting on her knees, watching the fire dance in the hearth.

"I don't regret it," she said finally. "Closing the book."

Slappy was quiet for a moment.

"I wanted you to use it," he said. "I didn't want you to lose your chance."

"I didn't lose anything."

She looked at him again — this time fully. He looked tired. Not defeated. Not broken. Just... tired.

"You were willing to let me go," she said. "Even if it meant losing me forever."

"Because I thought that's what you wanted."

"What if it had been?" she asked. "Would you really have let me walk away?"

He didn't answer immediately.

Then, softly—

"I would've let you walk away. But I would've hated myself every second after."

Slappy suddenly stood up and walked over to the bed, and sat down.

He shifted slightly, resting one arm on the edge of the bed. The candlelight cast warm gold into his hair and lit his eyes like twin embers.

"You make me weak, Belinda," he said. "I haven't cared about anything — anyone— in longer than I can remember. And now I can't stop thinking about you."

She swallowed hard.

"I didn't mean to change anything."

"You didn't mean to," he said. "But you did. And the worst part is... I don't even hate it."

He looked away, jaw tense.

"I came to this world so I'd never need anyone. So no one could touch me again. And you just... walked in. Called me arrogant. Put me in my place. And now you've wormed your way under my skin and I don't know how to not care."

She rose slowly and sat beside him on the bed, facing him. Her fingers picked at a loose thread on her skirt.

"I used to think I had everything," she said quietly. "At school. Back home. I was calm, cool, collected. Untouchable. But I wasn't real. Not to anyone. Not even to myself."

She looked at him.

"But here... being in a strange world, being stuck like this, being stuck with you..."

He arched a brow at that.

She smiled, then sobered.

"It's the first time I've felt seen. Like really seen. And I know you're cruel. And sharp. And infuriating. But I also know you saved me. Over and over. And I don't think you know how to admit you're afraid."

He looked down.

"Maybe I am."

She reached for his hand.

"Then I'll admit it first. I'm scared. I'm not human. I don't know what I am right now. But I know what I'm feeling."

He looked up.

And for once — he didn't hide.

~~~

Later, after the fire dimmed and the magic wound quieted beneath her care, Slappy leaned back against the pillows. The heavy velvet drapes swayed with the wind from the open window, letting the scent of pine and smoke drift in.

Belinda sat beside him now, cross-legged, her nightgown pooling around her like spilled silver milk.

He was watching her in that quiet way again — the one that wasn't teasing or smirking or cruel. Just... watching. Seeing.

When the candles finally burned low and the storm beyond the windows had passed, they lay in the bed again — side by side, not touching.

At first.

But somewhere in the dark, his hand found hers again.

And this time, she didn't pull away.