Word Count: 1843
~Vaela
"Do you have to leave?"
Clinging to Eyla, I rest my head against her shoulder. After a few days, Eyla and Will have to return home for their own commitments, and although they can come back soon, I'm devastated.
Alone again with Hale? The thought haunted me all last night, leaving me restless and without much sleep.
Eyla pats the side of my head. "Trust me, I don't want to."
"Neither."
Pulling myself from Eyla's grasp, I turn to Will. His arms are folded over his chest, and he regards us angrily. It took all of last night to convince him that he doesn't need to stay here, that his other commitments are more important while I'm here, safe.
Safe, he had spluttered, while glaring viciously at Hale.
"You'll be fine, Vae," Eyla says in my ear. "If you need me, get Hale to come and I'll be there."
I smile tightly. "Okay, I will."
Hale hold's my gaze as Eyla grabs his hand. Will still hesitates, until the Pureblood wraps his hand around his arm, and they vanish.
For a moment, I just stare coldly at where they once stood.
Eventually, I get to my feet. Hale hasn't made an immediate return, which I presume is due to Will's incessant need to have the last say.
The cave is deadly silent while empty.
My footsteps are muted by the plush rugs, as I stroll down the hallway, swinging my arms around gleefully. Full use of my limbs has been restored, and I'm tempted to jump about or dance around.
Curiously, I approach a few unopened doors. I find a room full of books, an empty room, and then what must be Hale's room.
There is no definitive evidence he sleeps here, it just seems obvious.
The room is relatively large, and most of the wall space is covered by various paintings, all of the same style.
My gaze drifts to the centre of the room, to Hale's bed.
"Like what you see?"
Flinching, I turn, stumbling away. Hale stands at the doorway, hands seated in his pockets as he looks at me curiously.
"You scared me," I whisper breathlessly, resting my hand over my chest, feeling my thundering heartbeat beneath.
Hale's gaze sweeps over me. "You must be feeling better, considering all the exploring."
Admittedly, I'm feeling far better. There is more strength in my limbs, and the cold has eased off a bit, although still looms, a constant reminder of my mortality. Hale must be right about his assumption with the mountain.
"I am, actually." I fidget with the edge of my sleeve, wondering if there is any merit to crawling under his bed and hoping he forgets about me. "I didn't mean to go into your room...the door was open and..."
He raises a brow. "And?"
"And I'm curious," I admit sheepishly. My cheeks heat, Hale's gaze dipping to make note of it.
"Other than a bed and a few furnishings, it's not all that interesting," he muses, motioning around. I turn to look again, and he's mostly right. It's eerily similar to the room I've taken up. There isn't much evidence of him anywhere in this place.
I laugh uncomfortably. "Do you even need to sleep?"
"No, but what else is there to do?" He shrugs. "Thankfully the bed serves other purposes."
My throat tightens, and I'm forced to look away before the amused glint in his eyes has my cheeks burning again. He says these things because he knows it makes me uncomfortable, my expression revealing all.
"Do you have many people around?" I force out.
In other words, I'm asking whether I can expect others to be dwelling in this cave in the duration of my mortality. And I'm also wondering whether he will be bringing beautiful women up here to amuse himself.
Instead, he shakes his head. "Never."
"But you converse so easily with me." He even taunts and teases with ease, and I have no doubt his ability to seduce would be otherworldly.
He shrugs. "I'm old."
My eyes trace over him. "You don't look old..."
He strides a little closer, gaze pinning me. "What do I look like?"
The ulterior meaning in his tone has my nerves fluttering. Were I to be honest, I have no doubt he would punish me with it for the rest of the time I'm stuck here. He's beautiful, and he's very aware of that.
I look down at his chest, and then his arms, too afraid to answer his question. "What do these tattoos mean?"
They are beautiful. I could stare at them all day, trying to decipher their meaning. Most are just patterns, some phrases in unknown languages, and others are images. Every single one has been done with silver ink, a few shades lighter than his eyes.
"They mean I have a past." He looks grim at just the mention of his past. It's lengthy and dark, which is what I garner just from his expression.
Curiosity bites at me. "Tell me about it?"
Something flashes in his eyes. I want to grab onto it, to physically draw it out and demand some answers from him. The enigmatic nature of him only has me wanting to know more, which I know he's reluctant to give to me.
"Not tonight," he murmurs.
I sigh. I'm not getting anything out of him, am I?
"I'm hungry."
He tilts his head toward the door. "Come. Let's eat."
Eagerly, I follow him from the room, casting one last glance at his personal space before heading toward the dining area. I'm still not used to feeling hungry at most points of my day, although I secretly enjoy Hale's presence while I eat.
Once seated, I immediately serve myself some hot soup and bread, eager to chase off this chill. Hale only eats little, preferring fresh fruits over anything else. And he always watches me, unbothered if I'm uncomfortable.
"Still cold?"
I shrug, stirring my soup around mindlessly. "Never not."
"You may be better for now, but you could get sick again," he reminds me. I hate hearing him mentioning my mortality, a darkness settling over me as a result. It hurts, knowing I can't escape this fate.
"Your concern is admirable, Hale," I drawl, my appetite officially lost. "Why do you even care, again?"
Hale settles back into his seat, the solemn look in his eyes ice cold. "Maybe I thought for so long that I didn't like being around anyone. Maybe you're changing that."
His honesty stuns me into silence.
Shifting uncomfortably, I look down at the table. "The food helps. The soup especially. For the cold, I mean."
Acknowledging how he feels about being around me right now is too much for my feeble state of mind. Mostly because I feel the same way.
The weight of his gaze hurts.
"Good," he murmurs.
"Do you have any hobbies?" I ask gently. Can a Pureblood even have a hobby? They have infinite time to kill, so they must have something to indulge in.
"Not really..."
"How do you entertain yourself?" If he has no hobbies, what am I expected to do while up here? Boredom and being locked up with Hale can only lead to terrible temptations.
Hale holds my gaze. "I touch myself."
I blink. "What?"
"I think about-"
I'm tempted to press my palms against my ears, cheeks staining a vivid red colour. "Woah...Stop, okay, I don't need to know that."
"I'm messing with you," he smirks, clearly amused by my reaction. "I can show you what I do."
I scowl. "I don't want to see that."
"Not that, Vaela," he corrects, the gleam in his eyes making my fingers roll up into fists. "Come with me."
His chair scrapes against the floor as he gets up, motioning at me to follow him. Leaving my food discarded on the table, I warily follow him, unsure of where he is going to lead me.
Fidgeting with the hem of my shirt, my mind conjures up thoughts of dark rooms and Hale discarding all his clothing...
Immediately I banish that to the furthest reaches of my mind.
We reach the entry to the cave, Hale reaching his arm out to me, a thick, puffy jacket appearing in his hand.
"Put this on," he instructs.
I oblige him, curiosity officially piqued. He leads me from the cave, glancing behind him as if concerned I'll topple down onto the rocks I pick over carefully.
We don't go far down the right fork in the cave's passage system before Hale guides me into a nook in the wall, which reveals the face of it covered in a large painting.
I gape at it, silently amazed.
It's like nothing I've ever seen before. It depicts a strange land, with rolling meadows and vivid blue pools. The place looks warm, painted in a euphoric light. And it's done so expertly.
It's like nothing I would expect from Hale.
"You did this?" I whisper, drinking in every detail.
"No, someone else lives up here." His flat sarcasm has my eyes rolling irritably. Still, I can hear the wary lilt to his tone, unnerved by exposing his hobby to me so early into us knowing each other.
He stands back, watching me as I stride back and forth, examine each inch of it, looking for any glimpses into Hale's past, or perhaps his current thoughts and emotions.
Instead, all I see is an idyllic, pretty place.
"It's beautiful," I murmur.
"Don't tell anyone else about this," he warns. I smother my smile. Why he decided to show this to me, I don't bother asking. I'm just glad he did.
"Your secret is safe with me."
We stand for a few moments longer, staring at the painting. I doubt it's just me that is mentally whisked away to another universe when looking at it, but there is no escaping our reality for too long.
Hale reaches forward, snagging the sleeve of my jacket. "You need to get back, even I'm cold."
I roll my eyes, although I can't help but grin. "Alright pureblood, no need to rub it in my face."
🧡••🧡
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• A DEMON'S KISS - OUT NOW - RADISH and LATER ON WATTPAD •
~ "I'm left handed."
I draw my hand out from behind my back, knowing the burn is covered in a pretty, lavender lace glove, turning it over for him to examine.
He reaches out, grabbing it tightly with a hand that is overwhelmingly larger than mine, squeezing tightly.
The pain that lances through me is not the kind of pain I can mask. Instead, I yelp helplessly, yanking it away from him.
Fuck. That hurt. Tears begin to form in my eyes as I fight to urge to peel the glove back and cradle my injured hand.
"It's fine, is it?" He sounds breathless, a darkness to his tone that is otherworldly. ~
~Midika 💜🐼