Chapter 97 – Battlefield (2)
A harsh, piercing pain on Amelia’s forehead snapped her attention. She let out a hiss and before she could touch her forehead, a black figure landing straight to the lava distracted her, and her mouth parted at the sight.
His honey-toned feet stepped into the fiery reds of lava, and the gleam it radiated emphasized the golden knife patterns on his face. His forehead was drenched in his own sweat and pasted a few of his hair strands onto his temples. Amelia could see his blood-red eyes looking straight at her even though she was still encased inside the tentacles’ grasp. Like he knew Amelia was watching, and he watched her in return.
A pang of fear bloomed within Amelia that she closed her eyes in panic. She hastily folded her hands on top of her stomach, and the position made it seem like she was lying inside a sealed coffin for quite a long time. Her breath hitched at the sound of approaching footsteps and she found herself holding her breath as the steps grew nearer and nearer.
A faint sigh of relief echoed in her ears. It seemed like destroying Light took a lot of his energy, and he sounded like he was out of breath.
The footsteps stopped short and as if on cue, the tentacles slowly pulled themselves away from Amelia. Her ears pricked at the squeaky sound as the tentacles left her bare and unprotected.
Amelia pressed her lips tightly. She was right beneath the shadow Alfonso’s figure provided, lying still as if she was dead to the world. She could feel him intently gazing at her and he wasn’t moving in the slightest.
What was he doing?
She was so tempted to make a run for it but she knew it would only be a futile attempt. She wouldn’t be able to outrun him anyway. At this point all of her limbs were quivering in anxiety and she screwed her eyes shut even more.
She was pondering whether she would open her eyes and scream, to make it appear like she had just woken up from a nightmare. She really was considering it when the shadow swooped down near her face, the gust of wind breezing her cheeks.
At this point her heart was thrashing violently against her ribcage. Cold fingertips grazed the side of her face and she shivered at the contact. Like brushing the dew off the grass, fingers gently wiped the tears off the girl’s face in a soft caress.
The fingers were cold as ice against her skin, and she was about to open her eyes when a strong grip gripped her from the waist and picked her up in one swift motion, finding herself wrapped securely in the arms that held her.
It felt like she was hugging a chunk of dark jade, the temperature stingingly cold that her eyes flew open. “What are you doing?” Her eyes widened as Alfonso dipped his head against her chest, and she was so startled she could only pat his head weakly in response.
He was rubbing his face affectionately like a child craving for his mother’s love, the blood on his cheeks staining her white garments and it felt like he was using her as ragged cloth.
Despite the innate fear she had for the gods, she couldn’t bring herself to be frightened when he was being like this. What she felt was anger instead. Her hand made a grab onto Alfonso’s hair and she pried his head off her chest.
“You’re awake?” Alfonso’s words came out more like a statement than a question, his voice still as terrifying as ever. He was waiting for her response and the way he was looking at her earnestly appeared like he was questioning a prisoner before his death.
The anger Amelia felt disappeared as soon as it had come. Getting angry at him was out of the question. “I’m up. I’m awake and I don’t remember anything. I didn’t even see anything.” Her words tumbled over the other.
Alfonso scoffed at Amelia’s apparent uneasiness. She had no idea whether he believed her or not. He adjusted his hold on her and buried his face into the crook of her neck. Their bodies were firmly pressed into one another, and Amelia felt him relax against her.
He’s heavy. Amelia wasn’t able to hold him up and stumbled backwards with Alfonso on top of her. He didn’t even stop themselves from falling as they hit the ground with a soft thump.
His body was draped over hers, and Amelia took a quivering breath at the biting cold his body emanated.
Two gods: one was hot as the sun, and one was cold to the touch. The temperature their bodies possessed was impossible for mortals like her to touch and have contact with. She could feel herself trembling when a slight movement distracted her from her thoughts.
She looked down and saw Alfonso’s nose scrunch as he sniffed her.
“What are you doing?” Amelia asked. She felt like she was a can of catnip a feline had found after a long hour search.
“You smell.” He scrunched his nose once again.
“Okay? Let me go then.”
Alfonso shook his head. “No.” She could hear the smile in his voice, but it was a smile tainted with mocking, one that makes you clench your teeth in annoyance.
Maybe even the gods themselves had faults, and the God of Darkness had the knack of driving one into frustration!
Amelia’s forehead creased in irritation. Her anger soared tenfold at what Alfonso had said and she was about to reprimand him when a hint of red caught her attention. She glanced down and saw Alfonso’s wounded arm, blood dripping steadily.
“How come it is still not healed?” She weakly reached for his hand and placed it on her palm, noting how flawless his skin was like a smooth black jade.
It looked so beautiful, like an art that was to be left untouched.
Alfonso tilted his head as he inspected his wound. Not a minute after, the blood ceased from flowing and the wound gradually turned back to its original shape.
Is this the power of healing?
Amelia was startled at the swiftness of it all. She took a closer look and saw the once wounded arm was now healed, no longer bruised and his arm was good as new.
Amelia took a deep breath and she felt the heaviness of her body. She let go the grasp she had on Alfonso and continued to lay on the ground with eyes facing the sky. She let out a deep sigh and wondered if Alfonso had recovered his memories.
He probably didn’t, Amelia thought. Otherwise, he would have immediately taken action against her for insulting him quite a few times.
He may not have recovered his memories now, but he will one of these days.
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