The room reeked of Crimson and Roses and vanilla. Sylus sat in the dim light, swirling the amber in his glass, his gaze locked on the Pictures framed on the wall that stared back at him with those dark chocolate-brown eyes. Her smile hadn't changed. Not in his memory, not in those pictures of the canvases that rested beside him. He leaned forward, brushing his thumb over the dried roses beneath the frame, the roses that were his excuse every weekend to see her again. The scent was nearly gone, but He remembered.
"I still remember the night someone didn't look at me like I was a monster," he murmured, voice low.
"Who knew that night was the start of a never-ending Obsession of mine." His lips curled up into a smile, but something darker Hungrier. He took a sip, his eye never leaving the screen of the computer where she was silently cooking with slow dance moves that made him smile.
"Eres Mia"
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~Where did it all begin? Maybe the night his blood stained her hands, or maybe the moment she looked at him like he wasn't a monster. Either way, let's take you back to the beginning.~
-------Past (1 year ago)-------
Ella pov~
Snow was falling softly, dusting the sidewalks like powdered sugar. I walked back exhausted, my fingers numb from wrapping bouquets all day, the cold slipping through the coat as I tugged it tighter around me, the floral scent from the flower shop still clinging to my skin. Christmas night felt unusually busy, like the city itself was holding a hustle and bustle around. Couples chatting and wlaking close by, Damn life is making me feel more than single than ever ~
That's when I saw him. A figure slumped near the alleyway next to my apartment building. At first, I thought it was just a drunk passed out in the cold. But something in the way his body was tilted, Motionless, sent a chill down my spine. I stepped closer.
Blood....
Thick dark, Spilling onto snow, beneath him like a crimson crushed rose
"Oh my god. " I whispered, breath catching in my throat. His head was bowed forward, A black mask covering half of his face. He was still, breathing faintly. Instinct Kicked in before fear could, I dropped to my knees beside him, my hands already pressing against the cut near his ribs. Warm blood soaked through my sleeves, but I didn't stop.
"Stay with me," I begged, my voice trembling."Please... don't you dare die here."
He let out a low sound, something between a groan and a sigh, as if my voice reached through the fog of his pain. My breath brushed his neck. He flinched. He was still conscious. I tried to pull him upright, my arms straining against his weight.
"Ugh- god, you are heavy. Fuck," I muttered dragging him inch by inch towards my aparmnets back entrance. He reeked of blood and something like a wine?
There was no time to question time to think. I didn't know who he was. I didn't care who he was. I don't wanna know what happened to him, but something in me refused to leave him behind. How could I abandon him there when I hated the idea of abandoning someone?
I somehow managed to settle him down on my bed, my breath shallow from the weight of his body and the chaos of it all. He was still bleeding, still unconscious, or so I thought.
"I don't have the money to treat him in the hospital." I rushed into the bathroom, my heart pounding as I tore open the cabinet beneath the sink. My first aid kit was stuffed in a cracked plastic box, basic, but efficient. Being an orphan teaches you things. Like how to patch wounds. How to survive without calling for help.
As I stepped back into the room, clutching the kit to my chest, I barely had time to blink.
Suddenly, I was slammed against the wall. "Why are you helping me?" His voice was low, rough, and exhausted. His blood-matted, messy hair falling on his forehead, hooded gaze, dark orbs piercing my soul.
"You're bleeding," I managed to whisper, heart racing in my throat.
His head dipped forward, suddenly crashing into the curve of my shoulder.The weight him. The heat of him.
"Oh god," I breathed, stunned by the contact.
I pulled him back onto the bed carefully, trying to steady my shaking hands. His shirt was soaked through, crimson bleeding like a curse across the fabric.
I hesitated only a second before unfastening the buttons, exposing a toned body and a mess beneath. A deep slice across his side.Nasty, but not fatal.
I've done this before, I reminded myself. Emergencies, accidents… pain was just a part of growing up alone.
I pressed cotton to his wound, wincing as blood soaked through. My fingers trembled slightly, but I kept going, disinfecting, wiping, and bandaging tightly.
His pov~
Pain throbbed like a second heartbeat, butt her hands.. made me forget I was bleeding. His gaze was unwavering and soft. She didn't ask who I was. Didn't scream at blood. Didn't ask who I was?
Just moved, calm, shaking slightly, but focused. I felt the press of her fingers on my ribs as she wrapped the bandage tightly. Cotton soaked red. Her scent roses crushed under winter, and vanilla lingered in my nose.
"Who even was she?" inner thought
Her lips were parted as she leaned in to check the wound, her breath brushing my bare chest inches apart. She reached for my forehead and then the mask. I can't catch my wrist.
"Don't touch my mask," my voice low, deep. She froze. Looked at me with wide, startled eyes, her breath faint, the smell of her essence making my mind haze.
"Okay," she whispered. Just that NO fear. No question, hesitation.
Why?
"Why would a girl like her save a monster like me?"
Her hands were loose. To close. The scent of the rose petals and warmth of vanilla clung to her as she leaned in, my breath brushing my cheek. A few strands slipped from her bun, framing her face like a painting, those chocolate brown eyes locked into mine unblinking. Unafraid
"You saved a monster," I rasped. The weight of reality carried onto my shoulders.
She stilled for half a second, tipped the cloth again, gently pressing it to my bloodied forehead, "No one is a monster..." She murmured, her Voice soft, it soothed my soul. Her gaze never wavered.
"It's the world that twists us. But you-," She leaned a little closer. Her gaze unraveled my thoughts.
"You are someone who learned to survive by becoming one, maybe someone who had been hurt for far too long, maybe someone who deserved to be loved and cherished. You are just tired... maybe tired of being alone and abandoned."
I didn't speak. Couldn't. I just stared. At her. The girl who didn't run. The girl who saw me.The real me. And didn't flinch.
As she gently wiped the blood from the side of my head, I swore…
It felt like she was reading every part of me I'd tried to bury. still… it soothed something I thought long dead.
What the hell did she just do to me?