IN A WEEK
WANESSA'S POINT OF VIEW:
A week passes, and the days seem to blend together in a quiet rhythm. The villagers are still kind, though I sense the growing tension surrounding the rumors of the White Knight. I try not to think about it too much, focusing instead on my work in the village, helping wherever I can. But now and then, my mind drifts to the stories I've heard, to the dangerous man searching for his Luna.
Today, I'm out in the forest again, gathering herbs. The quiet hum of nature surrounds me the rustling of leaves, the distant calls of birds, the soft crunch of twigs beneath my boots. It's a familiar, comforting sound, one I've come to rely on during my time here. The forest is a place of peace for me, a place where I can lose myself in the simple act of gathering, away from the weight of my past and the whispers of the villagers. Funny enough I Death Forest has become my favorite spot to gather herbs, it's one place I know my way around and I glad about it. The rustling of leaves behind me is subtle, almost too quiet to notice. But then, the sound of a sharp intake of breath catches my attention. I turn quickly, my heart leaping into my throat. There, standing before me, is a man. Tall, broad shouldered, with silver, tangled hair and eyes that burn like a storm, blue, fierce, and filled with pain. He's bleeding, a deep gash running across his side, staining his clothes with blood. He stumbles forward, his breath ragged, his body swaying as if it might collapse at any moment.
The man's eyes lock onto mine, and for a heartbeat, time seems to stop. His gaze is intense, as if he's searching for something in me, something I don't understand.
I don't know why I do it. Maybe it's instinct, maybe it's the years of survival in the forest that have taught me to help when I can. But I don't hesitate. I rush forward, my heart pounding, and kneel beside him.
"You're hurt." I say, my voice trembling. I can't afford to panic not now. "Let me help you."
He doesn't speak, but his eyes are fixed on me, watching my every move as I tear off a strip of cloth from my sleeve and press it to the wound. The blood is still flowing, but not as quickly now. His gaze flickers to my hands, his lips parting as if to say something, but the words never come. Instead, he lets out a low groan, his body sagging as if the effort to stay standing is too much. I'm not sure what's happening, why I'm helping him. I've never been one to care for strangers, especially not those who could be dangerous. But there's something about him, something in his eyes that makes me want to do everything I can to keep him alive. I apply pressure to the wound, using the herbs I've gathered to help stop the bleeding. My hands are steady, despite the strange tension in the air. The man watches me closely, his breathing slowing as the pain begins to dull.
"You're strong." He mutters, his voice low, almost amused. His lips curl slightly, a faint smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. "Most women would've run away from me by now."
I look up at him, startled by the flirtation in his voice.
"I'm not most women" I reply, trying to focus on the task at hand, but the strange pull between us is undeniable.
He chuckles softly, a sound that sends a shiver through me.
"I can see that." He says, his voice deepening, the words laced with something dangerous. "You're not afraid of me, are you?"
I don't answer right away, my hands still working to stop the bleeding. I'm not afraid of him in the way he thinks. I'm more afraid of what I don't understand. The way he looks at me like he knows something I don't. Like he's seen something in me that I can't see myself.
"I'm just trying to help." I say, my voice a little shaky. "You're injured. That's all."
He tilts his head slightly, his piercing blue eyes never leaving mine.
"You're very good at helping." He says, his gaze flicking down to my hands as I work. "You've got the hands of someone who's seen a lot of pain. Been through a lot yourself, haven't you?"
I freeze for a moment, my heart skipping a beat. His words cut too close to the truth, and I don't want him to see that. I don't want him to know my past. I can't let anyone see that part of me. I push the thought aside and continue working, trying to ignore the weight of his gaze.
"I've learned how to survive." I say, my voice tight.
"Survival is a skill." He says, his voice soft, almost like a compliment. "But it's not enough, is it? You're strong, but you don't have to be alone anymore."
The words hang in the air between us, heavy with meaning. I feel a strange tug in my chest, something that pulls me toward him. He's dangerous. I don't know who he is, but I can feel the danger radiating off him. I can't let myself get caught up in his world. I finish tending to his wound, the bleeding stopped for now. I stand up slowly, taking a step back, trying to distance myself from the intensity of the moment.
"You should rest." I mutter, my fingers brushing against his skin as I adjust the cloth. "You'll be okay."
His eyes follow my every movement, his lips curving into a slow, knowing smile.
"I'm already feeling better." He says, his voice low and smooth."And it's not just the wound. There's something about you… something I can't quite place."
My heart skips a beat, and I take another step back.
"I'm not who you think I am." I say, my voice shaking slightly. "I'm not your Luna."
His expression falters for a brief moment, but then his eyes harden, and he steps closer.
"I've been searching for you." He says, his voice low. "I've found you. And now that I have, I'm not letting you go."
I feel a rush of panic flood through me. The words hit me like a punch to the gut. The White Knight. Without most of his costume. He's here. He's standing in front of me, and he's looking at me like I'm the answer to something. I take a step back, my body tensing. I turn and run. My feet fly over the forest floor, my breath coming in ragged gasps as I push myself harder, faster. I can hear him behind me, his footsteps heavy and purposeful, but I don't dare look back. I can't. I don't know what he wants, but I know it's not something I can give him. The forest blurs around me, the trees a haze as I run, my heart pounding in my chest. I don't stop, not until the sounds of pursuit fade into the distance. I can't believe that I saved a White Knight! And why he thinks I am his Luna?!