136

[ARTEMY]
In front of the nightstand, Rebecca was huddled on the floor. Resting against the wall, she curled herself protectively, her quiet sobs reverberating. It was as though she sought refuge from the world, hidden within herself.
My heart constricted at the sight; she appeared so fractured, so delicate.
Turning my gaze to Brayden, I detected his anguish. Shaking his head, he retreated from the room, leaving me to confront the aftermath.
Once again, my attention was drawn to Rebecca. She cowered, her face obscured by her arms. Drawing nearer, I knelt before her. “Angel,” I breathed, my voice a mere whisper.
Startled, her head snapped up, and she struggled to contain her sobs. Her eyes were swollen and brimming with tears, her cheeks damp and flushed. The emotions within her gaze were overwhelming, an intense cascade of pain, sorrow, anger, betrayal, and hurt.
In that poignant instant, I grasped the enormity of her feelings, rushing like a torrent.
Rebecca’s cry broke through the silence, and in an instant, she was in my arms. We sank to the floor, her form melding into my embrace. Nestling against my chest, she sought solace within my being, as if yearning to merge into my very core.
I enfolded her in my arms, swaying gently. “Hush, my dear Angel. I am here, and I will not depart,” I reassured, peppering her head and face with tender kisses. “You’re safe with me, Angel.”
Her arms tightened around me, her fingers gripping me as she continued to weep against my chest. Not a single word was spoken, nor did I prompt her to speak.
I held her, knowing that the comfort of my presence was all she required. As long as she rested in my embrace, it sufficed for both of us.
As the door closed behind the departing figures, we remained grounded, the echo of her cries lingering. I kept up a gentle murmur, a continuity of my earlier words.
Later, I carried her to bed, and beneath the covers, we clung to each other.
Gradually, her tears subsided, and as a silence enveloped us, I too ceased my solace-laden utterances. Drawing back slightly, I observed her closed eyes. Gently wiping away lingering tears, I caressed her cheeks with a feather-light touch.
We remained intertwined for a span of time, until Rebecca’s eyes fluttered open at last. Attempting a smile proved strenuous; my heart throbbed with anguish, a pain that felt suffocatingly real.
As Rebecca met my gaze, I inhaled sharply. The emotions that once roiled within her eyes had receded, leaving behind a void.
“Angel,” I murmured, my voice a gentle whisper that hung heavy in the air. “Allow me to witness your emotions unfiltered – your tears, your anger, your blows upon me, even your screams. But I can no longer bear to confront the hollowness residing in those vacant eyes.”
In response, she maintained her silence, an unbroken gaze that eventually gave way to the closing of her eyelids.
With a resigned sigh, I braced myself and awaited the tranquil rhythm of her breathing, an auditory assurance that all remained intact within her.
Easing myself away, I carefully disentangled from the bed, my leg protesting every movement with a persistent ache that reminded me of its fragility. Each step was a battle, muscles contracting and contorting in painful harmony, as I navigated my limping journey.
Post the removal of my coat and trousers, I subjected the wound to scrutiny. While no fresh blood tainted the surface, the sensation mirrored stitches rebelling against my flesh, pulling away with each throb of pain.
Just as I was in the midst of removing my shirt, the world seemed to suspend in time.
“You… are… hurt,” the words floated in the air, a symphony of vulnerability woven into a voice that was both dulcet and weathered.
My eyes widened, my lips parting in astonishment. That voice – a voice I’d thought forever stilled. It reached me, delicately woven, like the whisper of a breeze through leaves.
My throat constricted, a desert’s worth of dryness suddenly claiming it, while my heart pounded a tumultuous rhythm, reverberating like drums in the cavern of my ears. My chest constricted, the emotional crescendo of the moment overpowering.
Swiveling around, I met the gaze of my Angel. Her lifeless green eyes were focused on my wounded leg. Yet, inconceivably, she had spoken. To me.
My fingers balled into a fist, pressed against my mouth as I battled the swell of emotions, eventually punctuated by a purposeful clearing of my throat.
“I’m… alright,” I managed, the words a careful affirmation as I took an uncertain step closer.
Her gaze lingered on my wound for another fleeting moment, then ascended to meet my eyes, the connection a bridge between azure and emerald.
Her lips remained sealed, a profound silence enveloping us, as if she had entrusted her message to the universe to deliver through the art of unspoken connection.
In due course, she relinquished the visual exchange, closing her eyes and drawing herself further into the warmth of the covers.
And at that instant, a smile tugged at my lips, a promise etched within its curve.
I had vowed to restore Rebecca’s wings.
And so, I pledged to persevere until my Angel could soar once more.
[REBECCA]
‘I hold a profound disdain for him.’
The man, possessing those entrancing sapphire eyes, stirred a tempest of loathing within me.
The very act of feeling, heinous as it was, stemmed from him. The sensations his touch conjured, I despised them.
I yearned to regress into the realm of insensibility, yet his persistence proved unrelenting, an eternal shadow haunting me.
‘Artemy.’
Such was his name, once my deliverer, now transformed into something unwelcome. I willed him to vanish from my presence, to relinquish his claim on me.
The return to emotional numbness was my fervent desire. The battle to repress surged for an eternity, an ardent struggle against him. His mellifluous voice, his tactile caresses, his gentle kisses, and those eyes-those gentle azure orbs-I fought to remain impervious.
However, each passing day exacerbated the endeavor.
Nonetheless, a lingering query remained: ‘Is it all but a reverie?’
Clarity remained elusive.
Everything stood in a haze. Everything inflicted torment.
The malevolent force no longer lingered. The Devil’s maleficence had waned.
Only he persisted. Artemy.
Eyes opened or shut, he pervaded. Relentless in his presence.
Occasionally, emotions swirled into an enigmatic maelstrom.
Once, I held aspirations of a savior’s advent. But did he truly exist? Or was this a ruse by the Devil?
Artemy’s touch bore none of the Devil’s afflictions. Not a fraction of the agony.
Rather, his touch became an elixir. Amidst the sea of anguish, solace emerged from his embrace.
He would clasp me with unwavering strength, whispering tenderly. As he did now.
I sealed my eyes, shutting out his entreaties. His voice was an abyss of memories I yearned to avoid.
Sometimes sweet. Sometimes a serrated blade. All was torment.
Even the blissful memories carried a taint of agony. Yet they were incongruous. Eternal joy marked those memories, with Artemy a constant.
How profound my abhorrence. A sentiment of immense weight.
I recoiled from his touch, from his murmurings.
A scream, I craved release.
But my voice had been shackled by the Devil’s edict. Silence was my only defense.
Even when Artemy rambled in ceaseless discourse, entreating me to vocalize, I remained mute. My hushed protest an invocation for his departure.
“Angel, speak to me.”
His voice bore both balm and affliction.
‘You populated my dreams ere you graced my reality. In youth, you appeared-ebony hair, emerald gaze, and that resplendent smile. My Angel.’
My chest constricted, assaulted by memories. His every utterance triggered recollections.
Real or ethereal, I could not discern. The piano, the blossoms, that tranquil river.
‘Angel,’ his endearment echoed my dreams.
My throat constricted, eyes reopening to meet his azure gaze. Those eyes of his ensnared me.
Mirroring the ones from my dreams. He was my savior, unequivocally.
“Will you play for me, please?” His plea echoed.
‘Do you wish to play?’
Could I have indulged in this pursuit before?
“I long to sway with you, Angel. To witness your smile reborn. That bygone day remains etched-a mirthful version of you, laughter ringing as I twirl you.”
‘May I have this dance, Angel?’ His words echoed through my mind, a present echo of a distant past.
And there it was. Another memory, a heavy breath caught mid-chest, stealing the air from my lungs.
His lips brushed against my forehead, leaving a lingering touch. “I long to witness that version of you once more,” he confessed.
I shut my eyes in response to his words, his arms coiling more securely around my waist, creating a comforting enclosure.
“Look into my eyes, my Angel. Please, grace me with those captivating green eyes of yours,” he urged.
‘Rebecca, meet my gaze.’
‘You know I won’t release you until you grant my desire.’
‘Promise me you’ll never divert your gaze again.’
Abruptly, my eyes snapped open, meeting Artemy’s enigmatic smile.
His voice resonated in my thoughts once again.
“Ah, there you are.” He leaned in until our noses touched. “Promise me you won’t look away from me ever again.”
My heart stumbled, stirred by those words-a recollection of another time. He disliked it when I averted my eyes from him.
A whirlwind of emotions churned within me, the cacophony of sensations driving me to the brink of madness. Nothing seemed coherent. I felt adrift, utterly bewildered.
Yet, in the midst of the chaos, I yearned to find my bearings once more.
Artemy’s fingers grazed my cheek, a tender touch contrasting with the malevolence I had encountered before. His gentleness stood in stark contrast to the Devil’s cruelty.
“I’ll change and then we can rest, alright?”
He rose from his seat, prompting me to close my eyes again.
‘Your beauty is amplified when your hair is free.’
I reopened my eyes at Artemy’s words, locking gazes with him. He had called me beautiful.
My skin warmed, an unfamiliar sensation unfurling in my chest. My stomach tightened with a strange anticipation.
As he shed his shirt, revealing only gray pants, I couldn’t help but watch his movements.
‘Usually, I sleep without clothes, but I surmised you might prefer otherwise. I’ve compromised with these sweatpants. However, I detest sleeping in shirts.’
His voice reverberated, accompanying his strides towards me. Despite a subtle limp, his steps carried him closer, his legs seemingly burdened.
An overwhelming emotion surged within me-a parallel to the previous instance when I had witnessed him wounded.
When I had spoken up.
‘You’re injured.’
His pain stirred a peculiar ache within me, reminiscent of a time when ‘I’ had suffered.
When I had yearned for solace. For someone to speak soothing words.
So I voiced my concern.
Only then did I comprehend my misstep.
I had unwittingly allowed him entry into my emotions.
After vehemently resisting the allure of feelings, I had permitted myself to experience them.
Emotions, it seemed, amplified the pain. An excruciating ache gripped my being.
I wished to return to that place. To the Devil’s realm.
For there, I had been numb. A state far more preferable. Nothing hurt. The memories didn’t sting because they simply didn’t exist.
I yearned for that sanctuary.
I craved release from the agony.
I averted my gaze from Artemy, though he held me in his embrace, his arm enveloping my waist, his hand resting on my belly.
He tenderly caressed my abdomen. “Calm down, my little fighter.”
‘Protect my baby. Regardless of the cost. I must safeguard my child.’ The words resounded within my mind. I shut my eyes, inhaling deeply.
The voice belonged to me. The meaning eluded me, yet one truth held firm: a compulsion to shield someone.
Even when entwined with the Devil, my instinct had been to safeguard the unborn life. My actions had been driven by an unconscious directive, etched deep within my psyche.
“Rest now, Angel. I’ll keep watch over you.”
‘Rest, Angel. You’re under my vigil.’
Resentment swelled within me. His voice-how I loathed it. How I despised the memories he resurrected.
Simultaneously, I craved those very memories.
Despite the turmoil, a longing for those glimpses of my past endured.