THE FORGOTTEN FIELDS (NOVEL) - Chapter 119
—"Are you truly sure you won't regret it?"
Varkas said in a tense voice, as if something heavy were pressing down on his chest.
As soon as I glimpsed the slightest hesitation on my face, I feared he would suddenly back out, so I shook my head quickly.
He stared into my eyes for a long moment, with a fixed gaze, as if trying to decipher what I was hiding. Then, after a silence that stretched like a taut thread, he placed his hand around my waist and helped me stand up.
I clung to the edge of his clothes without thinking.
Two buttons from his garments rolled across the floor with a click, and I followed them with my eyes before feeling the texture of the bed behind my back.
I looked up at him, anxious.
Varkas sat in front of me and began to adjust the collar of his shirt, which had come undone a bit. He seemed tense, as if every single one of his movements was coldly calculated.
Tongues of fire glowed in the fireplace, reflecting warm shadows onto his imposing face and making him look more human than usual. My heart began to beat wildly, little by little.
I lowered my gaze, but he approached and gently caressed my cheeks with his hands, lifting my face toward him as if he wanted me to face my decision with clarity.
—"You still have time. If you want me to leave now, I will."
His voice hid something akin to fear... or perhaps nervousness.
I tightened my fist further on his clothes and said in a low voice:
—"I'm not going to back out."
I begged him in my heart not to ask anything else... but the words remained trapped in my throat.
He placed his hand on the nape of my neck and I shuddered despite myself due to the intense tension. He looked at me expectantly, trying to make sure I was still firm in my stance.
Then, he extended his hand toward the top button of my dress, barely brushing it without unbuttoning it, as if granting me a second chance to refuse.
I held my breath.
Noticing my agitation, he withdrew his hand extremely slowly, and I heard him whisper:
—"It's alright. I won't do anything that makes you uncomfortable."
I raised my head a little.
There was a reflection of fire and worry in his eyes, as if he feared taking a single step in the wrong direction.
I said with hesitation:
—"Could you... could you turn off the lights?"
He remained motionless for an instant, then stood up obediently and blew out the candles scattered around the room.
Darkness flooded the place.
However, I still did not feel comfortable. I pointed toward the fireplace.
—"And that one too..."
He approached the fireplace and closed its damper, extinguishing the last glow.
A deathly silence settled in, and suddenly, the darkness became extremely dense.
I inhaled deeply, trying to calm my nerves.
—"Now... come closer."
But no sound reached me to indicate that he was moving.
I hesitated for a few moments and then called out nervously:
—"Varkas? Are you there?"
The darkness grew heavier, as if swallowing my voice.
And just when I was beginning to feel real anguish, one side of the bed suddenly sank.
I extended my hand in alarm toward the silhouette that finally materialized.
I no longer had the luxury of maintaining my serene appearance. I wrapped my arms around his neck, just to make sure he wasn't far.
—"Please... stay here," I whispered in an exhausted voice once my trembling subsided.
Varkas laid me down gently on the bed and remained in absolute silence, as if the gloom suppressed every word he could utter.
I looked up at him, but I could only make out his shadow.
His warm hand brushed my cold forehead, and I shivered from the sheer difference in temperature.
When he gripped the edge of my dress, I flinched quickly for fear that he would pull it.
I said in a trembling voice:
—"No... don't touch my clothes. Leave them just as they are."
He stopped immediately, without objecting, as if my word alone were enough.
—"... Do you want me to be close, just like this?"
His tone was low, devoid of any misunderstanding; it was a frank question.
I whispered:
—"Yes. That's all."
He withdrew his hand and then I extended my arms toward him.
He approached slowly, listening to my breathing and exerting himself not to disturb me.
When his forehead touched mine, I felt a peaceful warmth seep into my chest.
I clung to his shoulders:
—"Hold me like this... nothing more."
His arms wrapped around me with a tenderness I never would have expected from him. I felt his heart beating near my ear, steady and comforting.
It was neither painful nor disturbing; it was more like a safe space in the middle of a storm.
I closed my eyes, ran my hands over his shoulders, and perceived the tension in his muscles, as if he were fighting against the desire to pull back for fear of hurting me.
I clung even tighter to him, and he gradually relaxed his tension, until I began to feel his slow breaths synchronize with mine.
He remained that way for a long time, cradling me in silence.
With the passing of the hours, his closeness dissipated all the fear that had consumed me at first.
His presence was constant, he asked for nothing and pressured me into nothing; he simply protected me with his arms.
Nothing could be heard in the room but broken whispers and warm breaths, followed by a peaceful and light silence... the kind of silence that only happens after a night in which many things change without the need to say anything explicit.
