“Belle…,” he whispered.
His voice was begging for help. This made Belle confused, because his blue eyes looked just as cold and sunken as they had before, reflecting a beaten-down, defeated heart like a stomped flower.
And with those same eyes, Adonis pleaded like a lost child.
“Save me, Belle… I need you to tell me…”
“Save you? What do you mean…?”
Adonis suddenly moved toward her. His large, dark shadow hung over her for a second, then before Belle even had time to register her surprise, Adonis embraced her, and she was enveloped by the young man’s warmth and scent. Surrounded by his body heat, she could swear she heard his heart racing madly in his chest.
“Adonis…?!”
It was so sudden Belle didn’t know how to process any of it. Save him from what? What did he want her to tell him? Was it about him failing the Key’s trial? His brother’s death? He said nothing specific, just clung to her for dear life, and all she felt from the trembling of his arms, the rising and falling of his shoulders, was raw emotion.
Adonis was shaking. At first it was weak, but gradually it grew stronger, eventually turning to outright tremors of fear as he clung to Belle.
“You…”
She suddenly realized that Adonis’s hands were clenched into fists as they held her back. He didn’t have his gloves on, it seemed, but even now, Adonis refused to open his hands as he touched her. No—he’d covered her with his entire body because he couldn’t touch her.
Belle suddenly felt annoyed for some reason.
Her hands, halfway around his back, fell at her sides. All the fear and pity she’d felt toward Adonis earlier dissipated, leaving only anger at this man trying to one-sidedly cling to her.
“Tell me, why… Why am I the only thing these hands won’t wilt?” Adonis said, trembling. “Why do my hands always reject the living, yet spare me, a half-dead man?”
As he spoke those words in a low moan, Adonis seemed to regain his cool—or maybe he was just frozen solid. Like a man freezing to death being unable to get any colder once their blood froze.
“When I was born, my mother died. These hands killed her from the inside. I knew it, and so did my father and siblings. But they never said anything. They just silently drove me out.”
There was no resentment in his voice because the people he could have resented were already dead.
“I was born…by rejecting my mother’s life. So I never knew…a mother’s warmth. I don’t know how to even describe warmth… It’s all so cold.”
Belle vaguely noticed her breath catching in her throat. The fear and irritation she’d felt earlier had melded together into some other emotion, and blood rushed to her cheeks, making her woozy. But even that soon faded.
All that remained was the strange heat swirling inside her, having her body covered by his, and an odd numbness in her limbs.
“I am…a half-dead man. Never fully alive, only living out the long seasons so I can die one day. And today…I saw what becomes of those who die. Being taken in by those for whom even death has died…accepting me into the place I most belong. And that…is the one place I never want to be dragged into, no matter what. But I can’t resist it anymore… This world always shows me the things…the places I deserve the most swallowing up all the doubts and questions within me…”
The shoulders in front of Belle’s eyes that had been rising and falling were calm at this point. Belle felt like all his words passed right through her, vanishing into some unknowable void. For the first time, her anger toward Adonis won over any pity she felt for him.
“And there’s nothing I can do for you—is that what you’re saying?” Belle said into his chest. Contrary to her words, her tone seemed to push him away. “I—”
“Belle.” Adonis suddenly tightened his hold on her. “Can you cut me down?”
Belle’s eyes widened. Sorrow ran through her. It felt like he was betraying her. Adonis continued to make her feel betrayed right up until the very end.
Still struggling to clearly figure out why she felt that way, Belle said, “You know I can’t.”
She had wanted to say it angrily, but the words came out with much more pity than she’d intended.
“Belle… Duel me.”
She squeezed her eyes shut. The back of her nose prickled, and tears threatened to spill down her cheeks.
“Why?”
There was a short pause.
“The Door of Journey isn’t wide enough for both of us…,” Adonis said, his answer sounding like an excuse.
It was a different sort of why. What Belle had wanted to ask was why Adonis had said that. She’d wanted to know his feelings. Was he really that desperate, saying something that showed how little he cared for his own life? She wanted to hear the reason.
His answer implied that he’d realized he wouldn’t be able to open the Door of Journey, and since he couldn’t, he at least wanted to get in the way of someone who had that potential. He was seeking death in doing so.
Belle gritted her teeth. She couldn’t take it anymore. Her breath burst out of her in a scream.
“I don’t want this, Adonis! Don’t force me into your stupid charade!”
The way you are now…, she almost started to say, but stopped herself. The words flew from her lips like daggers, purposely chosen to cut at his heart and hurt his pride.
Why was he doing this? Why now, when they were so close to each other? Anger and grief washed over her. Adonis was drifting away from her, and Belle was also starting to turn her back on him. She suddenly got a sense of déjà vu. This wasn’t the first time she’d felt this way. In her mind she saw a shadow of a man, his features indiscernible to her. Even when he walked away, that man was forever a silhouette…
Why…?
But then Belle felt Adonis’s arms on her tighten in a different way. She should have been able to shake him off had she resisted, and yet for some reason, she couldn’t do that now. Maybe it was out of hope they could still reach an understanding.