THE REALM WITHOUT A NAME

Part 20: Without a Word

Time didn’t pause—it obeyed.
It waited.
And then—
     His lips met mine.
         Exact.

Like he’d memorized this moment before it ever happened.

And I melted.

In a warmth that didn’t belong to this cold, black realm.
A warmth only he could give me.

He pulled away only a breath’s length.
But it felt like falling.

“You didn’t ask,” he murmured.

“Did I need to?”

“No,” he said,
softly against my lips.
“You never will.”

And just like that, the sky outside deepened to its darkest red—as if it, too, had seen. What just passed between us.

What had changed?
What had finally begun.

---

I didn’t run.
Not really.
But I left.
Quietly, too quietly.
His gaze still lingered behind my back—
I could feel it, like a shadow brushing the nape of my neck.

I didn’t look back.
I closed the door to my room.

Soft.
Click.
Then— SILENT.
                     ABSOLUTE.
                               EXPLOSION.

My knees hit the bed. My face hit the pillow. And my lungs forgot how to function.

“MMMMMPHHHHHHH—!!”

I screamed into the sheets like a girl possessed.
Muffled, wild, feral and red-faced.

My legs kicked.
Fists slammed into the mattress.
Every part of me turned into one massive...what did I just do?

He kissed me.
HE KISSED ME.
I LET HIM.
I WANTED IT.
AND NOW WHAT???

I rolled.
I flipped.
I buried my face deeper.
I tried not to think about how warm his lips were.
How close he’d gotten.
How his forehead had rested on mine like we were made of the same thought.

“Stupid… stupid… stupid—”

My voice was still lost in the pillow, but my body wouldn’t calm down.
I felt like fire trapped inside skin.
And the worst part?

I liked it.
Too much.
So much it scared me.

---
A knock.
I jolted upright.

A little voice peeked in—one of the creatures.
Big eyes, twitching ears.

“He’s… still standing there,”
It said, blinking.
“Exactly where you left him.”

“Wh-what?!”

“He hasn’t moved. Not even an inch. Just… still.”

“Close the door—CLOSE THE DOOR!!”

The door slammed shut again.
I face-planted dramatically.

“I can’t breathe.
I can’t—Ughhhhhhh!”

I whispered into the silence:
“Why does he do this to me?”

But no one answered.
Not even me.
Because the truth was worse than silence.

I wanted it to happen again.
And again.
And again.
And that was the scariest part.

I cracked the door open just a little.
A little more.
Slipped through like a thief in my own story. The corridor was quiet.

Too quiet.