I carried Storm inside with the help of strength from Emerald and placed him carefully on my bed. When I was done, I went to my wardrobe, took a towel, and went outside my room to get a basin from the kitchen along with the medicine kit. Upon returning to my room, I immediately placed the medicine kit in my bedside table. Carrying the basin and towel, I walked towards the bathroom, filled the basin with water, and returned to Storm, who remained unconscious. I tended to his wounds, cleaning them with the towel and applying medicine and bandages.
While wiping his face, he unexpectedly grasped my hand, his eyes still closed. His action caught me off guard, and for a moment, my heart skipped a beat. Confusion overwhelmed me as I struggled to identify the unsettling emotions I was experiencing.
"St-Storm?" I attempted to ask, wanting to confirm whether he was awake or not. However, judging from his breathing, he was definitely still sleeping. I swallowed hard, carefully withdrawing my hand, and continued what I was doing, putting a band-aid on his wounded forehead.
Afterward, I stood up, tidied and closed the medicine kit, and carried the basin to the bathroom, placing it in the sink. Taking a moment to gaze at my own reflection, I noticed that my face was slightly flushed, and my breathing was heavy. I couldn't help but wonder what on earth was happening to me.
In an attempt to snap out of it, I splashed cold water on my face from the sink. The icy shock brought a temporary relief, but my mind remained clouded with confusion.
I took a deep, long, heavy breath before leaving the bathroom, settling back on the bed, and watching Storm sleep peacefully. Almost involuntarily, my hand moved on its own accord and brushed the hair away from Storm's eyes. Even I was shocked by my own actions. I bit my lower lip, slapping my own arm with the other to regain my composure. Just as I was about to move away, his hands reached out and held mine.
Frozen in my standing figure, I turned to face him. Slowly, he began to open his eyes, and as his gaze met mine, a jolt ran through me, causing my knees to weaken like a jelly unable to support my own weight. He took me by surprise by pulling me closer to him, making me sit again on the bed while he hugged me tightly. I was rendered speechless, stunned by the unexpected turn of events.
As he pressed his face against my bare neck, his warm breath sent electric shivers down my spine. I couldn't find the words to express myself; I was simply overwhelmed.
"I don't know what's going on with me these days," he spoke in a deep, low tone. My eyes widened in disbelief as I struggled to comprehend the scene unfolding before me.
"S-Storm...?" was the only word that escaped my mouth. In a gentle motion, he broke the hug, taking a moment to stare at my face, locking his gaze with mine. Slowly and tenderly, he brushed aside a strand of my hair off my left shoulder, his movements deliberate and unhurried. With a delicate lean towards my neck, he pressed his lips against my skin, and in a gentle bite, he drew a sip of my blood. It took mere seconds before he released his bite, his tongue lapping up the remaining traces of blood. The warmth of his tongue against my skin sent a tingling sensation through my entire being. Unlike the previous times when he needed my blood, there was no pain. Instead, it was something else, something indescribable with mere words.
As we faced each other once again, he took off the bandages and Band-Aids I had placed on his wounds, and I couldn't help but notice the changes in his appearance. His previously battered face, adorned with deep bruises and cuts, was now in the process of healing. The evidence of his past injuries was still visible, but there was a noticeable improvement. The swelling had subsided, and the wounds were slowly closing, leaving behind faint traces of the ordeal he had endured.
"Your wounds..." I muttered, my eyes fixed on his improving condition.
"I can no longer heal myself," he confessed with honesty.
"What do you mean?" I asked, my mind filled with confusion.
"I am now reliant on you. My entire well-being and life depend on your blood. I can no longer heal my own wounds; I have become your total servant," he explained.
"What does that mean?" I inquired, my confusion deepening.
"Do you still not understand?" He furrowed his brow, and I shook my head, realizing that his words had merely passed through my mind without sinking in.
"Never mind then," he said dismissively, lying back down.
"Hey, aren't you going to explain why you were in that state earlier?" I asked, frustration creeping into my voice.
He looked at me, taking a long moment before answering, as if contemplating whether to reveal the truth. "I had a fight with my father."
"Your father?" I exclaimed, surprised by the revelation. I had never known he had a father.
He nodded in response. "Yeah, you've probably met him already."
I furrowed my brow, struggling to process his words. "What? Who is your father?"
He took a deep breath. "The headmaster of this school. Shadow," he replied with a hint of boredom.
"Your father is that annoying invisible creature?!" I exclaimed, shocked by the sudden revelation.
He smirked. "Yeah."
"Oh, I never imagined that," I replied, my mind still reeling from the information.
His expression turned serious and determined, his gaze drifting somewhere far away. "I'm going to have to kill him, though," he stated with conviction.
I was taken aback and confused by his words. "Kill him? Why? I mean, that's your father, right?"
"Yeah," he replied, turning to face me and locking his eyes with mine. "He's a demon."
I stood frozen, unable to comprehend the weight of the revelation. Yes, I knew he was a half-demon, but I had never imagined, or perhaps I hadn't allowed myself to fully grasp, that he was the son of Shadow, a being of whom I had never seen the face.
"So, you're saying Shadow is your father, and he's a demon," I summarized the information, and he nodded without any visible emotion.
"But why do you want to kill him?" I asked, my confusion still lingering.
"Don't you understand? He's not cursed; he is essentially a demon himself. Maybe if I can kill him, we can all return to being normal people, or maybe not for me, but at least for some cursed individuals," he explained, his expression devoid of emotion.
My mouth hung open with the weight of the idea, and I nodded faintly in agreement. "But how? We can't even see him."
"But I can," he replied with a smirk. "I tried fighting him earlier, but he was far stronger than I was." He took a deep breath before continuing, "I want to become even stronger."
I furrowed my brow as I processed the information. "You knew your father, but what about your mother?"
His eyes shifted with an indiscernible emotion. "No, I never met her. Perhaps she died while giving birth to her half-demon child."
My jaw dropped, rendering me speechless. He looked at me, his expression lightening up, and a smirk formed on his face.
"Was the information that indigestible?" he teased, and I rolled my eyes in response.
"It's just... unbelievable. I never imagined any of this, especially the idea of returning to normal," I said, frustration evident in my tone. "But what makes you believe it?"
"It doesn't require deep thought or heavy reasoning. It's just a gut feeling," he simply replied. Growing irritated, I slapped his arm.
"Ouch! Why did you do that?!" he complained, and I rolled my eyes once again. "What's wrong with you this time?"
"You need to gather information first. Don't be reckless with your actions. Regret is haunting, and it's the scariest thing in the world," I told him, speaking from experience. He smiled, and I barely recognized him in that moment. It was a smile I had never seen before on his face. I stood frozen, trying to process the sudden change, and within seconds, he became serious again.
"Are you going to help me, then?" he offered.
"Help you with what?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Hmm..." he muttered softly. "Gaining information, as you suggested."
"Why would I help you?" I retorted, rolling my eyes, ready to walk away. But he grabbed my wrist, preventing me from leaving.
"I need you, though," he said, his words sending a chill down my spine and causing my hairs to stand on end. The weight of his plea hung heavy in the air, stirring a mix of emotions within me.
Confusion, uncertainty, and a flicker of vulnerability washed over me as his words sank in. Part of me wanted to resist, to push away the significance of his statement. But beneath the surface, a hint of longing and a tinge of hope began to emerge.
"Whatever," were the only words I managed to say, my voice laced with a mixture of defensiveness and hesitation. Withdrawing my arm from his grasp, I turned away and took hesitant steps, each one carrying a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions.
As I made my way to the kitchen, seeking solace in the familiarity of the bustling space, I couldn't shake the impact of his words. They lingered in my mind, echoing through the silent hallway. The absence of noise, the stillness enveloping the surroundings, seemed to mirror the turmoil within me.
The quietude of the hallway served as a stark reminder of my friends' deep slumber, their exhaustion evident from the day's events. It was a testament to the challenges we had faced together, the weariness that had settled upon us.
I prepared a simple meal and carried it back to my room. To my surprise, he wasn't in bed, causing me to furrow my brow in confusion. I placed the tray of food on the bedside table.
"Storm?" I called out, scanning the room. I walked towards the veranda and spotted his silhouette. Closing the distance, I could sense the heaviness emanating from him as he gazed gently at the star-filled sky and the half-moon. It had grown dark, and I hadn't even realized.
"Aren't you hungry?" I disrupted his thoughts, and he briefly turned to look at me before returning his gaze to the sky.
"Are you concerned?" His words held no discernible emotion.
"No way!" I replied defensively.
"I thought you brought food, though. I could smell it from a distance," he said, his voice now tinged with teasing.
"Well, if you knew that, then eat or leave. Tsk!" I retorted, turning to walk away. I sensed him following me, his warm chuckle trailing behind.
"Alright, I'll eat it. No need to get mad," he reasoned, causing me to mentally roll my eyes.
He walked towards the bedside table and began to eat the food I had prepared.
"What about you? Aren't you going to eat?" he asked between mouthfuls.
"I'm good," I simply replied, taking a seat at the end of the bed, putting a reasonable distance between us. I watched him intently, trying to understand why I was letting my guard down with him, unlike before.
"What?" he asked, noticing my unwavering gaze. I shook my head in response.
"Nothing," I replied, still analyzing his every move.
"Why are you looking at me like that, though?" he asked, growing uncomfortable under my scrutiny, yet continuing to eat.
"Don't mind me, just focus on your meal," I simply replied. But he set down his spoon and fork, his gaze fixed on me.
"What?" Now it was my turn to feel confused by his stare.
"How about it?" he asked, still looking at me with a blank expression. "Do you feel comfortable?" he added, his tone almost sarcastic.
I rolled my eyes and looked away. "Fine," I replied in a dismayed tone.
He continued eating, but I could sense his constant glances in my direction, even as I kept my gaze lowered, fiddling with my feet. I could hear him gulp water, and strangely, it stirred something inside me that I couldn't quite distinguish.
"Are you done?" I asked without looking at him, attempting to break the mounting tension within me.
"Now you're not looking," he commented, and I heard him place the tray back on the bedside table.
"Now you're complaining," I replied, exhaling audibly, still refusing to meet his gaze.
"Because earlier, while I was eating, it felt quite awkward," he told me. "Now look at me," he said, closing the distance between us. I shook my head in response, but he grabbed my arm with one hand and lifted my chin with the other, gently turning my head toward him. When our eyes met, I rolled my eyes in annoyance.
"Why? What now?" I said, removing his hand from my chin. He chuckled in response.
"Are you perhaps having mood swings?" he asked amidst his chuckle, observing my reaction.
I made a face and pushed him away slightly, trying to create some distance. "Now go back to your dorm!"
He held onto my hand, despite my attempts to push him. "I'm going to sleep here, though," he informed me, causing my eyes to widen.
"No way! You have your own room!" I exclaimed, but he simply laughed as if he were enjoying my reaction.
"You're affected by me, aren't you?" he asked, his gaze fixed on my eyes.
I shook my head vigorously. "I'm not."
"But you weren't like this before," he pointed out, staring directly into my eyes.
"Whatever, just go home already," I tried to shoo him away, but he only smiled. What on earth was wrong with him? He had been smiling at me, behaving very differently from his usual self, and most baffling of all, he had become more gentle. Why?
"What are your plans for tomorrow?" he abruptly changed the subject, getting up from the bed and picking up the tray.
"Where are you going?" I asked, perplexed by his actions.
"I'm taking this to the sink," he replied.
"No, give it to me." I hurriedly got up, snatched the tray from him, and rushed towards the kitchen. I quickly washed the dishes before making my way back. However, before I could enter my room, he opened the door.
"What the hell?" I muttered in shock, not wanting my friends to see him. But he covered my mouth with his hand, pulled me inside, and closed the door once more.
"I don't want to leave yet. Can I stay here for the night?" he asked, our proximity so close that his warm breath brushed gently against my skin. My heart fluttered loudly, yet calmly, as his eyes locked gently with mine.
I wanted to say no, but no words escaped my mouth as I found myself captivated by his face, slowly etching it into my memory.
"Silence means yes," he said once again before creating some distance between us and confidently lying down on my bed.
"Hey, I didn't agree. You should leave!" I attempted to shoo him away, but he seemed unbothered, placing his arms behind his head and fixing his gaze somewhere else, calmly whistling. Goodness, he was so unpredictable!
I sighed in frustration as he continued to ignore me, his gaze fixed in another direction. I struggled to control my rising anger, unsure of how to handle this unfamiliar behavior. I racked my brain for a way to make him leave, but nothing seemed to come to mind.
"You still haven't answered me," he broke the silence after a few minutes. "What are your plans for tomorrow?" he repeated his earlier question. Taking a deep breath, I diverted my attention to cleaning. I began arranging my books, wiping my tables, and sweeping the floors.
"I don't know," I replied, focusing on my chores. "I've never experienced festivals before," I admitted honestly, my eyes fixed on the task at hand. Eventually, he shifted his gaze and looked at me.
"Not even when you were the crowned princess of Yseria?" he asked, his voice laced with surprise. Without looking at him, I responded, still engrossed in my cleaning.
"No," I answered, my voice devoid of emotion. "I spent most of my time inside the palace. Going outside or to crowded places would only worry my mother. However, whenever I did go out, I tried to have a little fun," I explained, letting him know that I hadn't wasted all my time and had managed to enjoy myself on occasion.
"Why does your mom worry so much?" he inquired, genuine curiosity evident in his voice. I paused my chores, finally looking at him, and let out a sigh.
"I was born with a cursed demon," I replied, causing his eyebrows to furrow in concern.
"Are you serious?" he asked, his tone serious and attentive.
"Yes," I replied nonchalantly, resuming my cleaning tasks. "I was cursed from the moment I was born," I reiterated, emphasizing the significance it held in my life.
"How did that happen?" he questioned, shifting his position in the bed to get more comfortable, his emotions swirling within him. I paused my chores once again, meeting his gaze, before continuing my story.
"Well," I began, briefly halting my cleaning to finish the task before delving into the details. "My mother probably knows the reason, but she never shared the specifics with me."
"That's a rare case. I've never heard of anything like that," he commented, his demeanor reflecting genuine surprise.
"Why? How much do you know about curses, anyway?" I asked, genuinely curious about his knowledge on the subject. I observed him, noting his appearance and demeanor before he responded.
"I don't know everything, but I know something you probably don't," he replied, prompting an eye roll from me.
"Care to share your knowledge with me, then?" I retorted sarcastically, placing the cleaning materials back in their designated spots.
"Have you seen the full-blooded moon before?" he began, sitting up from the bed. I nodded, recalling the events of the first time I witnessed it.
"We call it the Red Hour, and during that time, everything comes to a halt. Shadow demons from other dimensions grow stronger and can transport themselves into our world. In order to survive in our world, they need vessels, preferably human bodies, sometimes babies, often adults. These cursed babies awaken with the spirits of the demons, and most of them die instantly due to the fragility of their human bodies. However, some demons might wait until the child becomes an adult or reaches a certain age before awakening. Do you somehow understand?" he explained, but I shook my head, unable to comprehend the intricacies of his words.
"Never mind then. I shouldn't have bothered, knowing how slow-headed you can be," he muttered to himself, his words reaching my ears.
"What the hell!" I exclaimed, grabbing a pillow from the nearby sofa and throwing it at his face. He managed to catch it, but my frustration was evident. "I'm not slow-headed; your explanation is just too complex!"
"To make it short," he said, getting up and closing the distance between us. He was now standing close to me, and he held my arms, one with his left hand and the other with his right, before continuing his words. "It was impossible for you to survive if you were cursed from the very beginning, like when you were still a baby."
"But I did," I told him, my face showing a mix of confusion and curiosity.
He took a deep breath, letting go of my arms and looking at me intently as if he was studying me entirely. "Hmm..." he muttered, his hand resting on his chin as if lost in thought.
"Maybe you just got lucky," he finally said, gently tapping my forehead before walking towards the veranda. I followed him with my eyes, still mesmerized by his gesture, before speaking up.
"Are you leaving?" I asked, unintentionally sounding disappointed.
"Why? Do you want me to stay?" he replied, smirking, which made me roll my eyes.
"Then leave! Go!" I said, walking towards him and playfully pushing his back towards the veranda as he chuckled, the sound filling the air.
As we reached the veranda, he stood on the railings, maintaining his balance while gazing intently at me. "I'll see you tomorrow," he said, his voice carrying a hint of playfulness. A mischievous smile danced on his lips as he added, "But don't miss me too much, okay?" He punctuated his words with a wink, exuding a sense of lightheartedness.
With a swift and confident motion, he propelled himself upward, effortlessly defying gravity for a fleeting moment. His agile form seemed to hang in the air, suspended in time, before gracefully descending out of sight.