Chapter 282
She emphasized it not as a cold warning, but as a thoughtful reminder, an effort to carve that commitment deeper into both of their minds before they stepped into the true arena.
"Thank you for the trust you've given me. For the chance to prove myself. And for your decision… not to leave me alone."
Fuuuh!
Aldraya's sharp, attentive gaze lingered on Theo for a long time, as if scanning every line of relief and every shadow of sincerity on the young man's face.
The world seemed to narrow to the space between their two faces, measured by each heartbeat echoing in Theo's chest.
Then, without warning or any dramatic shift in expression, Aldraya moved.
The head that had been resting against Theo's chest slowly lifted, and with pure spontaneity, she pushed her body slightly upward.
The soft, slightly cool edge of her lips found its destination.
Theo's right cheek.
The touch was neither a passionate kiss nor a casual gesture.
It was a calm placement, a deliberate and sustained contact.
Aldraya's lips remained pressed against Theo's skin for more than thirty seconds, a duration long enough for time itself to feel as though it had slowed.
In that silence, there was no movement, only an intimate presence and a warmth that slowly spread from the point of contact throughout Theo's body.
It was the quietest, most physical, and deepest expression of gratitude imaginable, a transfer of thankfulness unformed by words.
Then, just as gently as she had pressed in, Aldraya drew her head back.
Her face remained only a handspan away from Theo's, and there, in a voice softer and more sincere than her usual flat tone, she spoke her thanks.
Not a simple thank-you, but the deepest gratitude for being granted permission, for being given a chance, for being deemed worthy of trust despite all her complexity.
The words were light, yet they carried an immense emotional weight, a release of the tension and disappointment that had piled up since midday.
After saying it, as if all her energy had been drained by the surge of emotion and relief, Aldraya allowed her head to fall back down, resting submissively against Theo's warm chest.
The arm that held him tightened slightly, not in a demanding grip, but in a hold that sought safety.
Slowly, her weary eyelids began to close, her pale lashes trembling faintly before finally shutting completely.
Her breathing, once steady, began to slow and deepen, turning into the calm, regular rhythm of someone drifting into sleep.
'Quil-Hasa… this is a subtle cruelty.'
Fiiiiih!
'You make her pure, then release her into misguidance without any support.'
Feeling Aldraya's body grow heavier and her breathing become deep and even, a thin smile filled with tenderness and deep admiration bloomed on Theo's lips.
He gazed at the sleeping girl's face, her perfect features now looking so peaceful, far removed from the cold or flat impression she often projected.
In his heart, a thought arose, a judgment directed at a distant and unreachable entity.
He believed that Quil-Hasa, the indifferent creator of the universe, had committed a great sin.
A sin of creating a being as delicate and complex as Aldraya, only to let her wander without guidance on how life should be lived, on how one is supposed to "walk" through this world that is so often cruel and confusing.
Aldraya, with all her abilities, was essentially a child who had just begun to learn, then was cast into the labyrinth of existence without a map.
As those thoughts circled his mind, Theo's hand moved with an almost maternal instinct.
His slender, practiced fingers began to comb through Aldraya's long, silver-white hair, an expanse of unblemished silk resting in his lap.
Each stroke was done carefully, attentively, and with the utmost gentleness, as if afraid of disturbing this rare peace.
He combed through strand after strand that might be tangled, tidying them with patient touches.
The texture of her hair was astonishingly smooth and cool against his fingertips, as if moonlight itself were being woven there.
The rhythm of his strokes aligned with Aldraya's calm breathing, creating a silent melody heard only by the two of them within the now-darkened room.
'It's nine in the morning and the sun is already this brutal. Why haven't they arrived yet?'
Haaaah!
'I know what patience means. But waiting under heat like this isn't a test of patience—it's torture.'
The nine o'clock sun hung high, pouring down harsh, merciless golden light onto the pavement that had begun to radiate heat.
Theo stood rigid behind a decorative pillar in the meeting plaza, his fingers tapping his thigh in an irregular, nervous rhythm.
His feet, as if with minds of their own, kept stomping against the concrete floor over and over, creating the dull thud of shoes that was swallowed by the bustle of a city beginning to wake.
Each stomp was a punctuation mark of the anxiety gnawing at his inner self, a secret Morse code voicing his growing impatience.
Inside his head, a grumbling monologue rolled on without pause.
He knew the meaning of patience.
He understood the theory well, that waiting was part of discipline, that everything required time.
That knowledge was even embedded in every cell of his body as someone who lived amid intricate scenarios.
Yet it did nothing to ease the heat creeping up from the soles of his feet under the morning sun, or the itch at the nape of his neck from sweat beginning to soak his shirt collar.
That theoretical patience was fragile, easily evaporating under the sun's sting and the pressure of time relentlessly ticking away.
It wasn't only the elements of nature that opposed him.
From time to time, amid the flow of passersby, a pair of eyes would settle on him.
A mother pushing a stroller with a fleeting, curious glance, an office worker in a hurry who still spared him a look, or a group of teenagers laughing as they eyed his restless figure behind the pillar.
Each gaze felt like a fine needle pricking his skin, amplifying his discomfort and the absurdity of his position.
He felt like an odd specimen on display in the middle of the plaza, a young man too neat to be merely loitering, yet too agitated to look like someone waiting for a sweet date.
His unease grew, transforming into an intense, silent prayer.
He pleaded with whatever force might be listening for Erietta and Ilux to finish their preparations quickly, to hasten the meeting, and to appear at the designated location.
'It doesn't make sense that Aldraya hasn't shown up yet. Did she take a wrong turn? Or worse—did she run into one of them along the way?'
Sssshh!
'Anything but that. Aldraya must not meet Erietta, let alone Ilux. Chaos would be born far too soon.'
Thorough preparations had been made, every possibility planned for, and the long-awaited day had finally arrived.
This was a day drawn from the pages of Flo Viva mythology, a pivotal moment when the lines of fate for Erietta and Ilux were scheduled to intersect in a private date.
Theo, bearing all the weight of knowledge and responsibility on his shoulders, arrived at the amusement park designated as the meeting point far earlier than necessary.
To be continued…