Jennifer accepted Luther's proposal, and Luther planned to return to Paris to inform his family. Mike could no longer refuse Susan's request; as a member of the bride's family, it was indeed necessary for him to accompany Luther on this visit.
That night, Mike retired to his room early. He dismissed his servant for the night, then poured himself a glass of red wine. The room was dimly lit by a few flickering candles, casting a hazy glow. Mike stared silently at the candlelight reflected in the mirror, feeling a headache at the thought of returning to Paris. He drank his wine in one gulp and poured himself another.
The door was tightly closed, offering him a brief respite from the outside world. This door provided Mike with a momentary peace. He slowly walked to the mirror, seeing a pale man with only his lips adding a touch of color.
He wanted to take a bath, but his servants were asleep, and he didn't want to wake them for such a trivial matter. There was a small pool in the woods behind the estate, and Mike decided to wash there.
Had he known what was to come, he would have preferred to sleep dirty rather than venture alone into the woods at night.
But the allure of a story lies in the fact that its characters never know their fate in advance. They constantly try to escape it, yet inevitably walk the paths destined for them.
Mike donned a deep red robe, took a lamp, and walked into the woods. Familiar with every tree and shrub in Hild Estate, he soon reached the small pool. A thin stream flowed into the pool, likely originating from a distant mountain. Deeper in the woods, the stream widened, but by the time it reached this spot, it was weary from its long journey, barely able to continue.
The night was quiet. The water reflected the moonlight, reminding Mike of the mirror in his room and causing his cheeks to flush. He placed the candle on the ground, laid his robe at the bottom, and placed his clean clothes on top. He then removed his sticky nightshirt and tossed it carelessly by the pool.
It was summer, the days growing hot, with only the nights bringing a hint of coolness. Mike dipped a toe into the water, finding it cold. He shivered as he stepped in fully.
"...Whew..."
He winced slightly, inhaling sharply. Once he adjusted to the temperature, he began to scoop water to wash himself.
The night was deep; even the sounds of insects and birds were sporadic. The splashing water echoed loudly in the woods, making Mike an easy target in the silver moonlight.
"Who's there?" The sound of rustling leaves startled Mike. He spun around in the water, searching the surroundings.
A figure emerged from the shadows into the moonlight.
Tall, dressed in nightclothes and incongruous boots, as if hastily roused from bed. His golden hair shimmered under the moonlight.
"Luther?" Mike called hesitantly.
The figure stepped into the water, causing Mike to instinctively step back. His face, fully exposed to the moonlight, was partially covered by a cloth, hiding his nose and mouth, revealing only a pair of deep blue eyes fixed intently on Mike.
He said nothing.
Mike was still immersed in shock and confusion, the ripples on the water mirroring his inner turmoil. The figure approached step by step, the waves in the water drawing closer with each stride. Mike's heart raced; he could feel the other's gaze burning like fire.
"Who are you?" Mike's voice sounded especially weak in the night air.
The figure did not respond, continuing to move toward Mike. He extended his hand, his warm fingertips gently touching Mike's cheek. Mike shivered but did not pull back.
"You shouldn't be here alone," the man's voice was low and magnetic.
Mike felt the man's fingers slowly glide across his cheek, finally resting on his chin, lifting it gently. His gaze was steady and intense, as if trying to absorb Mike entirely. Mike's breathing quickened; he had never felt another man's presence so closely before.
"This is wrong..." Mike struggled to regain his composure, trying to break free from the nearly suffocating feeling.
"What is right, what is wrong?" the man's voice held a hint of provocation, "Aren't we all just following our hearts?"
Before the words had fully settled, the man leaned in and kissed Mike. In that moment, time seemed to stop. The man's lips were warm and soft, carrying an irresistible force. Mike stiffened at first, then gradually relaxed, allowing himself to sink into the sweetness of the forbidden kiss.
The water rippled, moonlight draped over them, as if cloaking them in a silvery glow. The man's kiss transitioned from gentle to fervent, his hands starting to explore Mike's body with growing impatience. Mike's heartbeat quickened, his breathing growing erratic.
"Who are you..." Mike whispered, barely audible, as if making a final struggle.
The man did not halt; his hand slid down Mike's back, finally resting on his waist, pulling them even closer. Mike felt the man's body, strong and firm, radiating a reassuring warmth.
"Don't resist," the man murmured in Mike's ear, his voice deep and alluring, "This is what we both desire, isn't it?"
Mike closed his eyes, finally abandoning his resistance, letting himself drown in the night. His hands began to respond, gently caressing the man's back, feeling the heat of his touch.
Their bodies intertwined in the water, as if they wanted to merge into one. In the forest at night, only the sound of water and their restrained breaths intertwined, forming a melody of ambiguity and taboo.
In this moment, they were no longer two people bound by societal constraints but the embodiment of their deepest desires. Regardless of what tomorrow might bring, at this moment, they were truly free.
The scene unfolded in silence, the drama giving way to quiet.