Traces of vitality left his body yet the pallid complexion couldn't have suited him better. As if he has returned to a time when life has yet breathed into his body. As if he is a man of clay instead one of blood and bones. A beautiful corpse waiting for people to mourn him for the person he never was.
I am quite unsure if leaving him to die was the better option then. But, my conscience causes me to intervene with the destruction creeping on him. Several times have I shaken him only to be greeted by a slow hum. Even at the brink of death. it felt like he couldn't be bothered to live.
Confused on what to do, I break the etiquette between man and woman and tries to drag him away despite the close contact, nevertheless, his stature was too tall and well-built in comparison for me to carry. I could only sigh in dismay, with the slightly gelid state of his skin as a constant reminder of time ticking.
During my attempt to pull him out of the waters, I slip inwards, feet on top of his and hands on his chest, slow heartbeats resounding in my ears as I accidentally leaned on him. In the processing of the current position, I quickly try to crawl out, however, was held in place by the man I thought to have lost consciousness.
"Maister door blocker, I command you this instance, wake up!"
Not knowing what else to do, I slap him harshly on his face, an act that finally brought a reaction from him. Awakening eyes like the emergence of death. I shiver, the coldness of the water feeling more secure than the stare. But it changed in an instant, and the domineering air was changed with a more lenient one.
The grip around me loosened, and I quickly shift to the side. The man merely watch in amusement, gaze locked on my body as though it is more important than his current state. After several minutes, he follows my movements, though a bit lethargic and still standing in the water.
"You are surprisingly daring. Don't you fear the consequences of your actions?" I watch him stand in the freezing air and promptly stood up, and discard my fear to drape the cloak he lent to me on top of his bare body. The consequences and implications all but nonexistent in my mind. All I knew was the coldness forced upon him and how I could take it away.
Good intention executed poorly as I was too short to properly adorn it on him with the cloak covering only his chest from the front. The man stands still in the silence, unbreathing as if the density of the air was too thick, I couldn't let go of the cloak until he holds it in place and wears it over his body.
"For what exactly? The slapping? The commands?" I question, once I am freed from the ambiguousness of the situation. There seemed to be no need to hide my deeds. If saving a life could be condemned, this society would've collapsed ages ago. I want to believe in the power of virtue. In the compelling of grace.
The man in front of me walks to the side of the water fountain, and into the ground in front of me, causing me to be slightly above him. For the first time, I manage to see his eyes in close proximity, but there was not enough light to observe the emotions fiercely waging within.
"All of them, but above all, hauling a dead person back to life. I thought I stated my proclamation of want quite clearly. Don't you know to kill danger by its roots? Your desire to keep a person like me alive is so amusing I might very well drag you to my coffin."
In spite of proclaiming to be amused, there is this sense of melancholic despise in his words. A self-loathing so embedded, removing it would undo him quite literally. I come to peek into the layers constructing this domineering man. One I am not sure I wish to know.
As if yearning to intrude, a group of leaves flew in between us. A reminder fall has yet to end. In spite of the emotional turmoil, I pick up the humongous leaf stuck in his hair which fortunately came off without much resistance. Silky strands of dark brown copper obediently succumbing to my touch much more docilely than the unrelenting owner.
"Mock me all you want, my decision to intervene in your foolish pursuit will not change. If you desire to die, do it outside my sight." The closing of a life is never a solution. There is enough blood on my conscience, so much I fear I may drown in it. I try to not think of my devious past. Fragments of a woman so serpentine, integrity thought of itself as a lie.
Out of nowhere, my hand was grabbed and pulled so I hung inches away from the ground, before being imperturbably lowered until my feet lands on the smooth stone path. I shrink feeling the wetness of his body stain my exorbitant dress. 'How would I explain today to baroness Bernice?' A voice whispered but was swallowed by the magnitude of his gentleness.
"Then I should keep you with me forever."
Ripples spread across my heart. There is this allure in knowing I am needed. That he may forfeit his life without me. Like a glass of nectar waiting to be drunk from. Temptingly bewitching me. But I turn the other way, this is a burden too heavy. One I do not want to hold.
Once you throw yourself into the roots of a storm there is no going back. Whether it will expand calamitously or die at your feet, the guilt of knowing everything is caused by the flap of your wings dries out the spirit in uncountable ways. I do not long for such a thing. To be the factor that breaks or makes a person.
It is so much easy to be detached. To be yearned for the same way you view them. A safe love.
"And torture me with a responsibility I never asked for? I assure you there are better people for that. Many who I am sure you could seduce." I spin out of his embrace and walk away from the water fountain before looking back, "As foul as you are, you possess deceptive looks. And if they are unwilling, you already know best how to make them stop, don't you, maister door blocker?"
The man merely chuckles, though it cease when he stumbles several times in his attempts to walk forwards, the lowered temperature of his body messing up his limb coordination. I watch him long enough until he reaches where I was standing.
At that point, I was preoccupied with thinking of what to do with him. Do I leave him to his own devices and risk the possibility of him being assaulted in his vulnerability? Do I take him back to his room to reheat? The path to the guest room from this place is so far away, taking him to my room seems like a much more palatable option.
Unaware of the plan to literally take him to my bed, the man in front of me jests, atypical of the image I come to form from our interactions. I could only fault it on the mild hypothermia messing with his rationality. "And block everyone's path? I am not that eager to be stabbed by people I desire to be my lifelong partner."
In a way I could not expect prior to this conversation, my lips gave away to laughter. How did the idea not cross my mind? How did he even come to that possibility? Half the people would probably thank the heavens for being noticed by such a handsome man. The other half, bound by the need to be needed.
Then again, I am here resisting, aren't I?
Quite confused with my own attitude, I lead him by hand, not letting him lean on me as he is currently naked underneath. I figure the numerous amount of waiting as he stumbles is better than being in skin contact. "Then, there is a lot of self-reflecting to do. Follow me, o' desperate maister. We wouldn't want you to bring home a flu instead of a lover, now would we?"