Carina's POV
The night was suffocating. The air hung heavy and still, refusing to move even with my window cracked open. The old fan in the corner of my room barely made a dent in the heat, its steady whirring more irritating than soothing. Sweat clung to my skin, and the sheets felt sticky against my legs.
I groaned and flipped onto my back, staring up at the ceiling. My hair was plastered to my neck, and the room seemed to close in around me. Sleep was impossible, not in this sweltering heat.
“Ugh,” I muttered, shoving the sheets aside.
I tossed and turned, trying to find a cool spot, but it was no use. The stillness of the night pressed against me, amplifying the tiniest sounds: the distant chirp of crickets, the occasional rustle of leaves, and the faint hum that had become as familiar as my own heartbeat.
And then, I felt it.
A chill, faint at first, but unmistakable. It brushed against my skin like a breeze slipping through a crack in the wall, except there was no breeze tonight. The sensation spread, cooling the heat that had tormented me for hours.
I froze for a moment, my heart skipping a beat. But then I smiled.
“You,” I whispered, rolling onto my side.
Behind me, the shadows shifted. I could feel them, cool and alive, wrapping themselves around me like a whisper in the dark.
I giggled, the chill of them against my overheated skin sending shivers down my spine. “You’re cold.”
“And you’re warm,” came his reply, low and smooth, as though the darkness itself had spoken.
I turned, reaching out, my hands sinking into the darkness. It wasn’t empty or formless, not anymore. It had weight and substance, like liquid silk. My fingers traced along a shoulder, broad and firm, and then up to where I imagined his face would be.
“You’re freezing,” I said with a soft laugh, curling into the cold.
“And yet, you cling to me.” His tone was teasing, but there was a depth to it, something that made my stomach flutter.
“Maybe I like it,” I replied, burying my face in the shadows. He smelled of rain and earth, clean but wild, like the promise of a storm. His arms—or whatever they were—wrapped around me, pulling me closer. The chill seeped into me, soothing the heat, and I sighed in contentment.
For a while, we just lay there, the silence between us comfortable. His embrace was strong but gentle, his presence a grounding force in the restless night.
“I can’t sleep,” I admitted after a while.
“I noticed.”
“Why are you here?” I asked, my voice soft. “Not just here tonight, but… here. With me. Always.”
His hold tightened slightly, and the hum I always associated with him deepened, vibrating through my chest. “I’ve always been here, Carina. Long before you noticed me.”
I pulled back slightly, just enough to look into the shadows where I knew his face would be. His glowing eyes met mine, faint and smoldering, like embers in a dying fire.
“Why?”
He was silent for a moment, as though considering how to answer. “Because you called me.”
“Called you?” I frowned. “I don’t remember calling anyone.”
“Not with words,” he said, his voice a whisper now. “But with your heart. Your longing, your loneliness… it reached out, and I answered.”
I swallowed, his words stirring something deep inside me. “So, you came because I was lonely?”
“No.” He tilted his head, and the shadows around him shifted, almost like they were alive. “I came because I was drawn to you. Because you’re different.”
I tried to make sense of his words, but they only left me with more questions. “But… why the fields? Why there first?”
Again, he hesitated, as though the answer was too complex or too dangerous to put into words. “The fields are a place between worlds. A place where the veil is thin.”
“The veil?”
“Between what you know and what you don’t,” he said cryptically. “Between what you see and what you can’t.”
I frowned, frustrated by his vagueness. “That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the best one I can give you,” he said, his tone softer now. “Some things you’re not ready to understand.”
I sighed, resting my head against his chest—or what passed for his chest. The hum in his form resonated through me, calming and familiar. “You’re impossible, you know that?”
“And yet, here you are,” he replied, amusement coloring his words.
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “Fine. If you won’t tell me where you came from, tell me something else. Tell me why you stayed.”
He was quiet for so long that I thought he wouldn’t answer. But then he spoke, his voice low and almost reverent. “Because you’re mine, Carina.”
My breath caught, the words sending a shiver down my spine. There was a weight to them, an unspoken promise that I didn’t fully understand but couldn’t deny.
“And you’re… mine?” I asked hesitantly.
“If you want me to be.”
I closed my eyes, letting his words wash over me. There was no denying the bond between us, the connection that had grown stronger with each passing year. He was my shadow, my constant companion, my secret.
“I do,” I whispered finally.
His embrace tightened, and the hum deepened, surrounding me completely. The room seemed to dissolve, leaving only the two of us in a world of darkness and light.
“Then sleep, Carina,” he said, his voice like a lullaby. “I’ll keep you safe.”
And for the first time that night, the heat didn’t bother me. Wrapped in his arms, I drifted into a dreamless sleep, the hum of the shadow lulling me into the darkness.
The first thing I noticed when I woke up was the light. It poured in through my window in golden streams, dancing on the walls and floor like liquid warmth. The air carried the unmistakable scent of dew and the faint, earthy aroma of sun-kissed soil. Morning in the Philippines was always magical, like the world had been painted anew in the softest pastels.
I sat up slowly, the events of last night still vivid in my mind. My room was the same as always, but the shadow in the corner was gone. Or maybe not gone—just… quieter. I could still feel him, his presence lingering like the ghost of a song.
I stretched and slipped out of bed, the wooden floor cool against my bare feet. The fan had been turned off, and the heat from last night had vanished, replaced by the refreshing crispness of morning. Somewhere outside, a rooster crowed, and I could hear the faint chatter of neighbors going about their day.
Downstairs, the aroma of garlic and frying eggs wafted up, mingling with the scent of rice cooking in the kitchen. I padded down the narrow stairs, the wooden banister smooth beneath my hand.
“Good morning, bunso!” Mom greeted me as I entered the dining area, using the nickname she always had for me as the youngest child. She was setting the table, her smile warm and bright as the sunlight streaming through the window.
“Morning, Ma,” I said, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.
Dad was already seated, flipping through an old newspaper. He glanced up as I sat down and grinned. “Finally awake, huh? I thought you were going to sleep the day away.”
I rolled my eyes, reaching for a plate. “It’s not even late, Dad.”
He chuckled and folded the newspaper. “What time did you go to bed last night? You were up late again, weren’t you?”
I paused, my thoughts flickering back to the shadow. “Just couldn’t sleep,” I mumbled, scooping a generous portion of garlic rice onto my plate.
Mom raised an eyebrow, setting a bowl of sinangag down in the center of the table. “You need to sleep earlier, Carina. You’ll turn into a zombie if you keep that up.”
“I’m fine,” I said, trying to sound casual as I reached for the eggs.
Dad smirked and leaned back in his chair. “Maybe she’s staying up thinking about boys.”
My fork froze midway to my mouth, and I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks. “Dad!”
Mom laughed, sitting down across from me. “Oh, I don’t know. Carina doesn’t talk about boys much, does she? Maybe there’s a secret crush she’s not telling us about.”
“There’s no one,” I said quickly, shaking my head.
Dad leaned forward, his grin widening. “No one? Really? Not even that guy who always carries your books after school?”
I groaned, hiding my face in my hands. “That was one time, and it doesn’t mean anything.”
Mom and Dad exchanged knowing looks, their teasing relentless. “Oh, come on,” Mom said, her tone playful. “You’re seventeen, Carina. It’s natural to have a crush or two.”
“I don’t!” I protested, but my voice wavered slightly. Not because of a crush, though—because of the secret I was hiding.
I couldn’t tell them. How could I explain the shadow in my room, the one who knew me better than anyone else? How could I describe the way he made me feel, like I was never truly alone?
“It’s not a boy,” I muttered, focusing on my food.
Dad arched an eyebrow. “Not a boy, huh? Interesting.”
I glared at him, but he just laughed, reaching for his coffee. “Okay, okay. We’ll leave it alone. For now.”
Mom smiled and patted my hand. “Just don’t keep too many secrets, anak. We’re here if you need us.”
I nodded, managing a small smile in return. “I know, Ma. Thanks.”
The rest of breakfast passed in relative peace, the usual rhythm of clinking plates and lighthearted banter filling the space. But even as I laughed along with their jokes and finished my food, my thoughts kept drifting back to the shadow.
He was still there, waiting for me. And though I didn’t understand why, I felt a strange sense of comfort in knowing he always would be.
*****