She was standing there, at the far end of the corridor. The night stretched out before us, the stars scattered across the sky like fragments of a broken promise. I realized then, with a crushing clarity, that there was no way to run, no place to hide.
Beneath the long, looming portrait frame that hung against the corridor's exterior, bathed in the soft, unforgiving light of the night, she turned. Her gaze met mine, steady and piercing.
Just as a smile was about to form on her lips, her expression faltered, her gaze locking onto the wound on my face. Panic surged through her as she rushed toward me.
"What happened?" she asked, her voice tight with worry, her concern shifting from herself to me entirely. She lifted her trembling hand to touch the bandage on my forehead, her touch gentle, as though afraid of causing more harm.
"I'm sorry, Solin, I'm so sorry!" I whispered as my eyes filled with regret.
"Sorry?" she frowned, the question hanging between us. "What are you sorry for? What really happened?"
"I... I told you," I stammered with voice breaking,
"I'm a troublemaker. You remember?"
She shook her head, barely processing her words.
"Is that important right now?"
Her gaze drifted to my lips, swollen and bruised, and she seemed to take in the weight of the moment. Without a word, she moved closer, her hands gently resting on my arm.
"Stop talking. Come inside," she murmured, her voice a blend of urgency and concern.
She took my hand, her grip firm yet comforting, and guided me toward her home. Her touch didn't waver as she led me through the door, her eyes never leaving my face.
***
"Excuse me?"
Her voice trembled with shock when I told her what had happened. We both sank onto the sofa, the silence stretching between us. With trembling hands, she reached for the first aid kit, her movements swift and careful as she tended to the wounds on my face, her own pain reflected in the tenderness of her touch.
"I'm sorry," I said, the weight of regret pressing on my chest.
She stared at me, her brow furrowed.
"What happened? What led to the two of you fighting like this?"
I hesitated, the words caught in my throat.
"Because I don't like him," I muttered, but even I could hear how unconvincing it sounded.
She shook her head, her gaze unwavering.
"That doesn't make sense, RED. Tell me the truth."
The name Solin slipped from my lips before I could stop it.
She looked at me with a mixture of disbelief and frustration.
"Don't lie to me."
I sighed, feeling the weight of the situation crushing me.
"He's angry with you... because of that email you sent."
The moment the words left my mouth, I saw the frustration flicker across her face, but it didn't quite land. She was still too far from understanding.
"Why? Why did you put yourself in the middle of this? I was going to handle it on my own. Why did you do that?"
The words stung, sharp and full of accusation. I knew I was wrong, but I couldn't shake the anger I felt at what he had said to her.
"I was wrong," I said quietly, almost pleading.
"But I couldn't stand what he said to you."
She took a deep breath, her voice calmer but no less firm.
"Whatever he said about me, it's not important, okay?"
For a moment, I was paralyzed, caught in a haze of disbelief. Was she really saying that? Was it even possible that she didn't care about the hurtful things he'd thrown her way? The thought hit me like a wave, knocking the breath from my chest. I was caught between shock and something darker—an unsettling emotion I couldn't quite name.
I blinked, unable to process what I was hearing.
"You meant...?"
Her gaze met mine, steady yet distant, as she spoke with a calm that made my heart race.
"I don't care about what he said, or what he's going to spread. Let him be. I just don't want you to get dragged into it."
She paused, a flicker of tension crossing her face, her words hanging in the air like a fragile thread. I didn't know where this courage came from, but I knew I had to say it to her.
"It's fine if you want to face this on your own," I said, as my voice was soft but firm. "But I can't just stand by and watch you meet him again."
She was taken aback, caught off guard by the intensity in my words. For a moment, she didn't know how to respond. I felt a rush of nerves tighten in my chest as I waited for her to speak. After what seemed like an eternity, she gave a small nod.
"I won't. You don't have to worry," she replied, her voice tentative but reassuring.
"Really?" My brow furrowed with doubt.
"Err..." She hesitated, then seemed to gather herself. I couldn't help but smile at the quiet strength in her.
"Did you go to the hospital? Get an X-ray?"
"I did," I confirmed, her eyes flickering away for a moment.
"Is the wound deep?" she asked, his concern laced with a hint of relief.
"Not that much," I answered, offering a small smile.
"Great!" she exclaimed, her face lighting up.
She rose from her seat, heading toward the kitchen, and I followed her, instinctively.
"Where have you been?" I asked, my voice unusually sweet, unable to mask the curiosity in my tone.
She answered without looking up, her fingers rummaging through the contents of the box I suspected was the one she'd brought back from her travels.
"To the beach," she said, her voice light, but her eyes never leaving the box.
"Alone?" I asked, my curiosity piqued.
"Um… with some friends," she murmured, distracted.
I moved closer, standing beside her. She was aware of my proximity, and for a brief moment, her movements slowed, almost as if she were considering something.
"Next time, can I come with you?" I whispered in her ear, feeling her freeze under the soft brush of my words.
For a long moment, she didn't respond, her stillness hanging between us like a secret.
"Just the two of us," I teased, my hand finding its way around her waist. She tensed at the touch, but didn't pull away.
"Can we?" I asked, my voice lower now, coaxing.
Still no answer.
"Huh?" I pressed, waiting for the words that would break the silence.
"Let's see!" Her voice faltered, yet there was a softness to it. I smiled, and she turned to meet my gaze.
"You should rest, you don't look well," she insisted, her concern palpable.
"I'm fine," I replied, though the words felt hollow.
"Did the doctor give you medicine?" she pressed further.
"Yes," I said, my voice barely a whisper.
I couldn't tear my eyes away from her, watching her pink lips move with every word. It was a struggle not to reach out, though I dared not. My heart raced faster than I could control, the breath in my chest hitching.
"Go rest, I'll make dinner," she offered, her voice gentle.
"...Here? At your place?" I asked, my voice betraying a flicker of uncertainty.
"Or if you prefer, you can rest at your own home," she suggested casually, though I could sense the slight hesitation in her tone.
"No, no, I didn't mean..." I faltered, the words tangling in my mind. She laughed softly, the sound light and comforting, and turned her back to me, focusing on the kitchen.
A smile tugged at my lips, unable to hide the warmth flooding my chest.
Continued...