It’s already been almost a month with nothing happening. Kalaman thought that the Farlan military must’ve been really lousy at their job if they had no pursuers. That, or Nahar was just that good at evading them. Either way, it didn’t matter. Kalaman was just there as a safety precaution just in case things got sour.

“Heya, Kal!” Remina called out to him from behind. “You patrollin’?”

“...”

Kalaman thought what he was doing was obvious, so he felt no need to answer and just kept walking.

“Man, I’ve never liked escort missions,” she continued. “Nothin’ to do all the time. And we’re surrounded by water on all sides, so nothin’ to see either. You ever get bored of all this?”

“No.”

Remina laughed. “Man, wish I had your mental toughness! Anywho, I heard Nen’s been avoidin’ you as of late.”

Kalaman stopped and glared at her. However, she was right. Before, Nentonia would constantly annoy him, following him around whenever she was bored. However, lately, she hasn’t been doing that as much. Usually, Kalaman should’ve be thankful that her annoyances stopped, and yet even in the few moments of quiet he had, her face would show up in his thoughts; unwanted intrusions in his otherwise dull mind. Eventually, he found himself trying to make conversation with her every now and then. However, she’d often cut the conversation short with excuses and leave. She even stopped with all the teasing. It was all strange to him.

“Where’d you hear that?”

“From the lady herself, of course. Also heard you wanted to talk to her more. Didn’t expect that from ya at all!”

“Your point?”

“Aw, no need to be so defensive, Kal. I’m just teasin’! So, what happened between the two of ya?”

“...Beats me.”

Kalaman continued his patrol. Remina tried to grill him for more information, but since he really didn’t know, she ended up letting him off the hook.

The days continued to pass like that. He’d either go on patrol, or sit in his room doing nothing. Remina, Armei, and Jarvarax would occasionally chat him up, but as usual, he wouldn’t say much. It was a monotonous and hollow way to live.

It was strange how much of an influence a single person can exert. He never had to think about the monotony of his own life before, but all it took was one person to come in and shuffle things around a bit, and suddenly, it felt all the more real. She made him taste the sweetness of nectar, and took it away.

Was this yet another of her playful teases?

Kalaman sat on his bed thinking about it all. He was alone. Jarvarax and Remina were oddly active as of late, and Armei’s mood had been getting worse and worse, so they were rarely in the room nowadays. It was all fine to Kalaman, though. This wasn’t even their room, yet they insisted on hanging out here anyways. Some peace and quiet was nice, he thought.

Then, the door opened. Even from the footsteps, Kalaman knew who it was.

“...Ah, Kalaman.” Nentonia’s eyes widened in surprise upon seeing him. “I thought you’d still be patrolling.”

“The stench of blood is getting annoying to deal with,” he replied. “I stopped early.”

“So you noticed it too, huh? You must have good eyes. Or a good nose.”

“Could say the same to you,” he said, genuinely surprised that she already knew as well.

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Nentonia laughed for a bit. “I’m ... a bit sensitive to the smell. So, you’re busy right?”

“No, I’m not.”

“I see. Um, so anyways, I’m actually quite busy, so I’m just going to—”

“Leave?” Kalaman cut her off. “You just got here. Just take a seat.”

“Ah, but—”

“You’re not busy,” he said forcefully. “And I’m not stupid. Sit.”

Nentonia scratched her cheek and waved her hands as if she was going to offer a retort, but in the end, she was unable to say anything. “...Mm, right. I’ll do that,” she said as she walked to one of the beds and sat down.

There was silence between them for around half a minute. The two of them said nothing. Nentonia must’ve noticed him staring at her, as she was doing her damn hardest not to make eye contact.

“You’re pretty quiet now,” he said.

“Ah, well, I get quiet every now and then,” she replied unconvincingly.

“You on your period?”

“...Should you really be saying that to a lady?”

“Then what the fuck is going on with you?”

Nentonia took a while to respond. Her eyes locked onto the floor as melancholy spread across her face. Then, she finally looked at him and smiled. “It’s nothing. I’m just feeling down a bit, but you don’t need to worry.”

It wasn’t a smile that she ever shown him before, but it was a smile he already saw her wear. It was the same smile she had when talking to the other members of the party.

“What, you not rotten anymore?”

Nentonia looked at him with a confused expression. “Pardon?”

Kalaman stood up and started walking towards her. “You said before that you could only be yourself around me because we were both ‘rotten and incomplete’, whatever that drivel means. But now, you’re wearing that damn mask in front of me. What, don’t like playing friends anymore?”

“...That’s not...”

Kalaman stood in front of Nentonia, looking down at her. In turn, she looked up at him, those yellow eyes of hers almost glowing with how vivid they were. He felt something boiling inside him.

“Do you hate me?” he asked.

“No, of course not.”

“Are you afraid of me?”

“I am,” she said while locking eyes with him, her expression unshifting. “You’re quite intimidating right now, in fact.”

“...And why were you avoiding me?”

He glared at her as he got to the heart of the matter. In response, Nentonia only sighed and lowered her head.

“I just don’t want to be around you right now.”

She wasn’t looking at him. He couldn’t see her face, her expression, her eyes. He wanted to see her. All he thought about in the past few days was her face, and now that she was right in front of him, he couldn’t even see it.

Spurned by impulse, he grabbed her neck and pushed her down onto the bed. She let out a small gasp, but was powerless to stop him. The bed creaked under the force.

He was on top of her, mere inches away from her face. She gave off a faint scent of cinnamon, just like the day they met. The sound of her breathing was sharp, and he could feel it on his face as it escaped from her glossy narrow lips. With a flushed face, she locked eyes with him once more.

He held her by the neck, but didn’t apply too much force as to keep her from breathing, but just enough to keep her down. Despite that, she didn’t struggle, even a bit. She just laid there, staring at him.

Kalaman’s body felt hot. Something was burning inside him. He couldn’t help but wonder what she was: the fuel or the match.

This moment—a dialogue of breaths instead of words—carried on for what felt like minutes. He felt his senses heightening to absurd degrees. He could hear every quiver in her breath, he could see every minute movement her eyes made. He stretched one of his fingers on her neck up towards her face, feeling how soft the skin of her cheek was.

“Do you want to devour me?” she whispered, her voice tickling his ears.

“...And if I say I do?” he responded in a low voice.

“Then I’ll devour you in return.” She reached out and rested her hands on his shoulders. “Well keep taking from each other, bit by bit. Then, we’ll both disappear.”

“Do you get off on saying cryptic shit all the time?”

Ignoring him, she continued. “I don’t want to devour you, Kalaman.”

“And why is that?”

“If I told you to jump into the ocean and drown, would you? If I asked you to stand in a burning pyre, would you?”

“What are you talking about—?”

“Would you?”

She stared at him with a serious expression, calmly waiting for his answer. She was being cryptic, as always, but he felt like he needed to answer her.

“...I don’t know,” he answered honestly.

Her eyes softened with a hint of disappointment. Then, she sighed, and gently pushed him away. She was physically weaker than him, to the point where her force couldn’t register to him. But still, he backed away. His heart was still exhilarated, but he managed to calm himself down.

Nentonia stood up and brushed her clothes. “We’re not a good match for each other, Kalaman,” she said.

“Thought you said the two of us had a lot in common?”

“It’s because of that. We’re both rotten, but we’re incomplete. As long as we’re not whole, we will be incapable of loving.”

“...What will make us whole, then?”

She began walking towards the door. “Different strokes for different folks. But only pain will complete us, Kalaman.” She stopped by the doorway and caressed her neck as she turned back to look at him.

Then, she smiled, and left.

Kalaman grimaced.

“She really does get off on saying cryptic shit.”