At the edge of the clouds, there was a brilliant aquamarine patch, like a turning page catching the moon. The rest was dove grey with a subtle hint of marmalade, just enough to announce the coming sunset.
I woke up on Marvel's bed, with no recollection of when he brought me here. A pink apron was hanging messily on my body, already crumpled and there were some dried, white stains.
The stinging sensations on my limbs were bruises, coming bold and bright in several parts. I was tempted to put armor on, suppressing the soreness under those red and purple hues of Marvel's handgrip.
Slowly, I tried to get up, but quickly realized how futile it was when I had to bite my lip to keep myself from groaning. The pain took over my waist below and it felt like my body had been crushed that every movement caused some muscles and bones to ache. Regardless, my leaping figure got down the bed.
My clothes... Where are my clothes...
I looked around, my head becoming dizzier. I took the apron off and wrapped my body with the blanket, walking hurriedly to the bathroom to wash before going out of Marvel's bedroom.
Wincing in pain, I limped heavily while reaching out to everything I could find nearby to hold onto, but failed miserably when I couldn't prevent my legs from stumbling upon the blanket.
"Ugh..." I groaned in a jaded mess as I slumped down the floor after being unable to prop my body against the bookshelf, causing several books to fall with me.
My situation couldn't be worse. I wanted to seek help, but not wanting to be seen like this at the same time.
Taking in a deep breath and out, I immediately tried to get up again and then put the books back to their places.
CLICK!!
I was startled and confused even more when I heard the last book I put back created a clicking sound. In curiosity, I took the book and put it back again. The same clicking sound appeared once more, but, still, nothing happened.
It was a faint, tiny sound in which only my sensitive hearings could catch, and if by any chance I wasn't focused, I believed I must have missed it.
Getting enough wondering for a while, in the end, I shrugged and left the oddity behind. Just after two steps ahead leaving my position, I halted, turning my head and watching the bookshelf carefully.
What if... Just, what if...
By the grime and the creases, there an old book, just like the others. I scanned the entire shelf. Whether the book's height, thickness, color, all was unsorted, blending naturally by each shape, nothing specific to distinguish them. The brown and the black dominated the tone, giving out the vibe of a vintage mood, and I realized all the bookshelves in Marvel's mansion looked identical.
This time, with determination I once again pulled the book out of the line and put it back to where it was. Just as I expected, it created a clucking sound which was of a different type than the two before. It was louder and firmer, as if a lock had been undone. I tried to push it slowly and a creaking sound welcomed me.
The pungent smell of paint and lacquer teased my nose before my eyes could catch what was dwelling in the dark space behind the folding shelf. I blinked in disbelief by what was called a secret chamber, so bereft of any source of lights. The particle of dust floated in the air, spreading its typical stench. Before I could identify the rest of it, the amazement got the best of me. I was stunned, speechless, and feeling triumphant at the same time.
Finally... I found it!
No wonder I couldn't find anything valuable in Marvel's bedroom and office even though I had always been there. They were right in front of me. It was just me who couldn't see them. If only I could spend more time in his private spaces alone, I would perhaps have realized it sooner.
There are so many rooms in Marvel's mansion, but most of them are unused, and I think it's weird for a house as splendor as this not to have a safe box, because where else all the valuable things could be stored?
I used to assume the files were in Marvel's computer, so I did my best to hack into his system, yet still found no valuable documents I could investigate.
Now, everything makes sense.
I gulped hard, clenching my hands to suppress the joy and trying to compose myself. I stepped back and closed the folding door that connected Marvel's bedroom and the secret chamber, putting the book back in a haste.
First things first, I should get out of here and put on my clothes if I wish to prepare for the real inspection-
CLACK!!
I was about to pull the doorknobs when I flinched backward in surprise. Suddenly, someone was pulling the doorknobs first and appearing by Marvel's bedroom door, probably going to get in.
For a second, my brain stuttered and I thought it fooled my eyes when I saw the person standing in front of me was Marvel in the flesh. At the realization that each second was the truth, my heartbeat escalated way quicker than I expected, and before long every part of me went on pause.
Not expecting me as well, bewilderment seared through Marvel's face and I captured it evidently before slumping down to the floor, sitting deep-knee after the unexpected event.
"Asta?" Marvel called in confusion, crouching to check on my condition. "You're sweating cold," he swept the messy bangs that covered my forehead to look into my eyes.
I could feel my hazel marbles wavering to meet Marvel's steel-blue ones, firmly locking within a close distance.
Did he hear me? Did he notice? Is there some kind of device that notified him if someone opened that door?
I watched Marvel. He didn't create a certain expression regarding the change in my state of mind; full of anxiety only me knowing. The sweat dripped through my temples even though it wasn't hot, and immediately I tried to right my mien before deciding to face him.
"You look like you're in pain," he worried, though, I wasn't sure whether he sincerely did or not. At least, he looked like he cared about me.
To tell you the truth, I am in pain, Sir. Can't you see what you have done to my body? These spreading purples with red blotches...
Now that I've found Yerevan's secret chamber, I need to get there real quick. But, if I said I felt sick again, Marvel would probably not leave me alone, so it might be best to keep him as busy as possible to distract his attention from me for the time being.
But, how? Marvel isn't that easy...
"I carried you here because I invited some guests to my office," Marvel shortly explained after seeing my blank face, having no idea about that change in his schedule.
"T-the stain?!" I immediately reacted, frantic, knowing what we did on the sofa in his office this morning.
"It's been cleared up," he relaxedly told.
It might be the servants, the cleaning men; whoever they are, I don't know them, but after almost two years, why am I nervous now?
"Let's not do it in your office again, Sir," I asked, my voice small yet serious.
"Is this you saying you'll have sex with me again in the future?" Marvel responded as seriously as I was and I blinked in confusion.
"T-that's not the point-"
"Oh, then you must mean you're okay to have sex with me as long as it's not in my office?"
Before I could defend myself, Marvel snickered as he came closer to my face again. It required only his fingers to hold my chin and I couldn't ignore his gaze, his smile, his whole being.
This man... He didn't take me seriously!
I pulled back to let go of him. When I pulled the blanket up to cover my shoulders, I knew he was studying my features even though I was looking away. Surely he noticed the remaining of his deeds had created some new shades on my skin, and the pain beneath them, I didn't demand anything from him to relieve it.
"I need to get dressed," I shifted to a different topic, trying to get up from the floor or else I wouldn't be able to free from his cunning.
"I think," he caught me when I wobbled, holding my body on his chest before continuing, "you need to clean up as well."
The warm, thin lips were pressed on my ear and I heard a low whisper slashing than floating through the air. So sudden, so violent, as if that sound was trying to invade my hearings.
Reacting honestly, I squirmed away in jitters, covering my flushed ear with my hand, and frowned at the man in front of me who caused that creating a deep chuckle.
"Still having enough power to glare at your owner, huh," Marvel stated, his eyes never getting off of me.
Come to think of it, Marvel always says he owns me.
I don't know where his belief came from, but I wonder if that's also the reason why he always did everything he wanted with me, whether I agreed or not, whether I liked it or not. My permission doesn't matter, anyway. He doesn't need that, and so he doesn't acknowledge that.
It's only my role that just couldn't do much against his character.
When Marvel and I were together, I always held it in, endured, and never complained. After all, I was the one who needed him.
At first, he gave out the vibe that he had the kind of personality which was so hard to approach. I got the feeling he strongly restricted others from coming into his circle and by that he wouldn't appreciate it when someone crossed a certain line.
But, as long as you follow his heart's wish, it's actually quite easy to get close to Marvel.
All this time, I've been doing whatever he said, whenever and wherever he wanted it. He always got what he desired, while I was losing my face in front of others and even throwing my dignity away from the very beginning.
That's why this is the worst, because it's the first time for me to do something to that extent.
But, once I decided to go forward, there would be no time to stop, or even step back. Fear? Anger? I'll deal with them later. Now that I finally found the path to my destination, I could start to picture the final of this notorious journey.
Hopefully, soon.