CHAPTER LXXI
Caelum's Point Of View
I gently wrapped my jacket around the girl's trembling body. Her skin was cold, and though her breath still faintly moved her chest, her eyes remained closed—probably from the shock or the chilling water. I couldn't leave her there. So I lifted her into my arms, feeling her wet hair brush against my neck, and carried her home through the quiet night.
The air outside was heavy with the scent of damp grass and moonlight, and for some reason, each step I took with her in my arms made my heart beat a little faster—nervous, unsure, but strangely… full. I didn't know who she was, but there was something about her that made it impossible for me to just walk away.
Once inside, I laid her carefully on my bed. Her soaked dress clung to her like a second skin, and the moonlight that spilled through the window painted her in silver. I tucked the covers around her and adjusted the jacket, trying to warm her with what little I could. She didn't stir.
Just then, Flash flew into my room, spinning mid-air as he always did when he wanted to make a dramatic entrance.
"Cael, who is this girl?" he asked, landing on my bookshelf and eyeing the stranger with suspicion.
I sighed and rubbed my forehead. "I don't know," I replied. "She jumped into the pond. I think she was trying to… end things. I couldn't let her drown. So I brought her back."
Flash tilted his head, looking amused. "Oh? I thought maybe you found yourself a new crush and decided to bring her home. Again."
I shot him a glare. "I don't just go around falling for every girl I meet. And for your information, I actually save lives, not seduce them."
He fluttered his wings, clearly teasing. "Fine, fine. But if she wakes up and thinks you're her knight in shining armor, don't come crying to me."
"Flash," I growled, picking up a pillow and hurling it at him. "Go fly somewhere else before I actually find you a cage to live in."
Laughing, he dodged it effortlessly. "Alright, alright, I'm going. But don't blame me if this turns into a romance novel while I'm gone."
With a final wink, Flash zipped out of the room, leaving me alone with the girl. I sat down beside the bed, watching her chest rise and fall gently. I couldn't explain the connection I felt. I didn't even know her name… but there was something hauntingly familiar about her face. Something warm and heartbreaking at once.
And as I looked at her, peaceful in sleep, I whispered softly, "Who are you… and why do I feel like you were always meant to find me?"
After Flash fluttered away with his usual teasing laughter echoing faintly behind him, I exhaled deeply and turned to face the sleeping girl again. I stood in the middle of my room, staring at her soaked body curled slightly beneath the covers. The silence now felt heavier—as if the air itself was waiting, listening.
I walked over and turned on the heater, ensuring the room grew warm enough to chase away the lingering chill. Then I went to each window and carefully sealed them shut. I didn't want any of the cold night air—or Flash's curiosity—sneaking back in.
Now it was just her and me.
I stood at the edge of the bed, unsure… debating. Her clothes were drenched, clinging to her like ice, and I could feel the cold radiating from her fragile form even through the blanket. She would catch a fever if I didn't do something soon.
But… how was I supposed to undress a girl I didn't even know?
Still, something deep in me urged me to act—not out of impulse or desire—but out of care. She needed warmth. Safety. Help.
I knelt beside the bed and gently touched her arm. Her skin was ice-cold, and she shivered slightly, though her eyes stayed shut. I whispered softly, almost to myself, "I'm sorry… but I have to do this to keep you safe."
Carefully, I slipped my arm beneath her shoulders and lifted her upright, cradling her against me. Her head naturally rested against my shoulder, her damp hair leaving wet traces on my skin. Her breath ghosted against my neck—light, steady, and oddly calming.
I held her like that for a moment longer than I meant to.
Then, with trembling fingers, I reached for the zipper of her dress. It was delicate and slow, every sound loud in the silence. I felt her body press lightly against mine as I worked—her warmth slowly returning as the heater did its job, but her clothes still heavy and wet against her skin.
As the dress loosened, I gently guided it down her arms, taking care not to disturb her too much. Her skin underneath was smooth, soft, glowing faintly in the golden light of the room. I paused, swallowing thickly, trying not to focus on the beauty she carried even in unconsciousness.
This wasn't supposed to feel like this.
I grabbed a soft towel from the shelf and wrapped it around her to dry her gently, whispering reassurances though I wasn't sure if she could hear them. My hands moved with care, brushing her arms, her back, her shoulders—each movement tender and slow. I wasn't touching a stranger. It felt… deeper than that.
Once she was dry, I dressed her in one of my loose cotton shirts—oversized enough to fall to her thighs, warm enough to protect her. I eased her back down into the bed, pulling the blanket up around her, brushing a few strands of hair away from her face.
She looked like she belonged here.
Beautiful, even in sleep. Fragile, yet strong. A mystery that had fallen into my arms like fate had decided we were never meant to be strangers.
I sat beside her, watching her chest rise and fall, her lips slightly parted, the light reflecting gently off her cheekbones. My fingers hovered in the air, wanting to touch her cheek again, just once… but I held back.
Instead, I whispered, almost like a vow, "Whoever you are… I'll protect you. I promise."
And then I turned off the bedside lamp, letting the warm shadows cradle us both.
The golden light of morning spilled softly through the curtains, casting a warm glow across my room. I blinked slowly, the remnants of sleep still clinging to me. My body felt oddly heavy… but warm, comfortable — not because of the blanket over me, but because of the quiet presence lying beside me.
And then I realized — her head was resting gently on my hand.
She had shifted sometime during the night, curling up close, her cheek pressed against my palm as if it were the safest place in the world.
My breath caught.
She looked peaceful… utterly serene. As if the chaos of yesterday never happened. Her lips were slightly parted, and every time she exhaled, I could feel the softness of her breath across my skin.
It was an image I never wanted to forget.
And in that tender silence, something stirred in me. Something fragile, yet intense. I didn't want to wake her. I didn't want to move. But my heart — full of an ache I couldn't quite name — whispered a desire louder than reason.
"Just one kiss," I thought. "Just one soft kiss… on her forehead. She may never know. But I'll remember forever."
So, I leaned in slowly, brushing a few loose strands of hair away from her face, my heart thudding against my ribs like a drum. And with trembling lips, I placed the gentlest kiss on her forehead — warm, lingering, reverent.
But the moment my lips touched her skin… she stirred.
Her eyes fluttered open.
I froze.
Those eyes — confused, wide, beautiful — locked onto mine. And before I could explain, before I could speak, she bolted upright, alarm flashing across her face.
"Wait," I whispered, panic rising in my throat.
But she didn't wait.
She scrambled off the bed in a frenzy, her breath coming in quick, shaky bursts. And then, without a word — without even glancing back — she shoved me aside, stumbled toward the door, and ran.
I sat there in stunned silence, my heart pounding in my ears.
Then instinct kicked in.
I jumped up and ran after her, calling out, "Please, wait! Don't go like this!"
But she didn't stop.
She flew through the hallway, past the door I never thought she'd walk out of. And just like that — she was gone. Into the streets. Into the morning mist. Like a dream slipping away with the sunrise.
I didn't even know her name.
Not her story. Not where she came from. Not even why she had fallen into my life like a comet.
And now… I didn't know if I'd ever see her again.
All I could do was stand at the doorway, heart in shambles, breath shallow, eyes on the road she had disappeared down.
That space beside me suddenly felt too cold. Too empty. Too quiet.
And the worst part was — she didn't even know what she'd taken with her when she left.
My peace. My warmth.
A part of me that I had only just started to understand.
To be continue....