His Green Eyes

Episode 5

AIDEN's POV

I was a collector. A collector of my dirty deeds. I couldn’t pretend that the person who had just raided a place, watched as the owners were beaten until they revealed the location of the safe—all while sipping my coffee—wasn't me. I was Marco through and through, incapable of pretending to be anyone else.

These were the facts, and I knew them well. But there was one thing I couldn’t understand: why was I standing outside Rosalie’s house in the dead of night?

"Just here to enjoy the view," I muttered to myself, almost trying to convince my own thoughts. The view from their house did bring me an inexplicable sense of peace. The city lights twinkling in the distance, the silhouettes of the trees, and the ocean stretching far into the horizon—it filled me with a calm that no other sight ever had. But why? I had no idea.

I dragged my feet down the street, my eyes occasionally flicking at the car parked nearby. It wasn’t mine, of course. I had taken one of the nondescript, mid-range cars we used for work. It was clear, even subconsciously, that I had planned to end up here tonight. I had swapped cars because mine drew too much attention, made too much noise in a quiet place like this. The fact that even my unconscious mind had pulled me here… it unnerved me.

I had become Marco by running from reality, step by step. Facing the truth? I wasn’t good at that.

I turned around. I wouldn’t go into that house. I wouldn’t come here again.

For the first time, I realized what fear felt like. But the worst part? I didn’t even know what I was afraid of. There was nothing to fear. Suddenly, a noise behind me made me freeze in my tracks. The old iron gate, rusted and crumbling, screeched as it opened, then slammed shut.

And then, I heard a voice.

“Aiden, help us…” The sound made my feet itch to flee because I wasn’t Aiden anymore. Yet, doubt seeped into my mind, a creeping poison. Was I still Aiden? Was he worming his way back into my veins, poisoning me from the inside?

“Aiden…” the voice called again.

I hated when she said my name. It felt as though she was speaking directly to my soul, summoning a part of me that I had long buried. There was something about it, something that made me feel trapped—like a soul in chains, one that would never be free.

I spun around, my gaze falling on Rosalie’s frail, slender frame as she struggled to carry her unconscious younger brother. The moment I took Leo into my arms, I could feel the heat radiating off his small body—he had a fever, and it was bad.

Rosalie’s face was ghostly pale, panic written in her wide eyes. I didn’t need her to explain; I could see she was barely holding it together. If we waited any longer, I’d have to carry both of them to the hospital.

“What’s wrong with him?” I asked as we hurried toward the car.

“I… I don’t know… He’s burning up,” she stammered, her voice trembling.

“Alright, calm down. He’s going to be okay,” I said, trying to sound reassuring as I laid Leo down in the backseat. Rosalie slipped in beside him, her eyes never leaving his small body. As I started the engine and pulled onto the road, she took out her phone, calling her grandmother to tell her everything was under control. Even her voice changed—it became steadier, more serious, as if she were forcing herself into adulthood, trying so hard to be the responsible one. I could only imagine how quickly she’d had to grow up, just watching this scene unfold.

When she hung up, she cracked the window open, taking a deep breath. It was then that I realized I had been watching her in the rearview mirror, unable to look away. I quickly shifted my focus back to the road. Fortunately, the hospital wasn’t far, and within minutes, we arrived.

I parked near the emergency entrance and hurried to carry Leo inside.

Rosalie was practically running to keep up with me as I hurried inside. The moment we entered, I laid Leo onto the stretcher they brought out. I could see the fear etched into every line of her face. The harsh white light of the hospital didn’t allow her to hide any of it.

While she spoke with the doctors, I waited outside, giving her space. It wasn’t long before she came out, collapsing onto the seat next to me as though every ounce of strength had been drained from her body.

“Is everything okay?” I asked.

She nodded silently, her expression distant, almost lost.

“They put him on an IV. The doctor said it’s nothing serious, probably just a cold. I’ve told him a hundred times not to play outside and get all sweaty…”

“If he’s fine, why do you still look like this?” I asked, noticing the weight of guilt that hadn’t left her face.

“Because it’s my fault. I’m not taking good enough care of him.”

“I’m sure you’re doing everything you can. He’s a kid, Rosalie. Kids get sick. It’s normal.”

She dropped her head into her hands, her voice barely a whisper. “I don’t know…” The vulnerability in her tone was so far from the fierce, strong-willed girl I had come to know.

After a few moments, she straightened up, leaning back in her chair and finally looking at me. She pulled her legs up against her chest, making her already small frame seem even smaller.

“Why were you near our house? Were you coming to sit in the yard?”

I gave her a half-smirk, trying to keep things light. “Yeah. You know my job—collecting debts. I figured I’d stop by and enjoy the view in that rented yard of mine.”

“I’m sorry for dragging you here,” she said, her voice softer now, guilt lingering in her words.

“No problem,” I said with a casual shrug. Of course, it was a problem—I didn’t do things like this, but I wasn’t about to let her see that.

“You stopped when I called you Aiden. Does that mean I guessed it right?”

“Did you call me Aiden just to test if you were right?”

“No, of course not,” she said, shaking her head. “For some reason, at that moment, it just felt like your name wasn’t Marco… but Aiden. Do you really think I’d be in such a stressful situation and still have the mental energy to test you?” She laughed, a sound that caught me off guard. Her eyes, usually empty and distant, lit up for a brief moment. She rarely smiled, and seeing her like this felt strange.

It was genuine. And I hated anything genuine. I was comfortable with the artificial, the fake. The plastic layers of my life suited me just fine.

“What’s wrong? Is your name not Aiden?” she teased, sensing the shift in my mood. “You look annoyed, but I wasn’t trying to upset you. There are so many reasons I’m grateful to you. The last thing I want is to make you angry, believe me.”

“Don’t be… Don’t be grateful,” I said, my voice flat. “I won’t be coming to your yard. Your debt is settled, Rosalie.”

She blinked in confusion, her brow furrowing as if trying to piece together why I was suddenly pulling away. “But what did I say? I don’t understand why you’re mad…”

Thankfully, at that moment, a nurse interrupted us.

“Leo’s awake. The doctor will check him, and then you’ll be free to go.”

When Rosalie stood up and went into the room, I felt a wave of relief wash over me. Being near her made me uneasy. After staring blankly at the ceiling for what felt like an eternity, I grew restless and followed her into the room. Leo was sitting up, looking much better, and Rosalie was helping him put on his shoes.

It was the first time I really noticed how much he resembled her.

“Who’s this, Rosie?” Leo asked, his voice curious.

“Oh… um, he’s my… he’s my friend. His name’s Aiden,” she said, stumbling over her words.

“Are you ready? Should we go handle the discharge papers?” I asked, eager to get out.

“Yes,” Rosalie replied quickly, clearly wanting to leave the room as much as I did. I stepped outside and handled the paperwork and hospital fees while she stayed with Leo.

When I returned, Rosalie was about to lift Leo into her arms, but I stepped forward, gently pushing her back and crouching down in front of him.

“Come on, big guy. Hop on. You’re about to experience a first-class flight.”

“Go on, Leo,” Rosalie encouraged, smiling as Leo wrapped his arms around my neck. I hoisted him onto my back and carried him all the way to the car.

“I don’t even know how to thank you…” Rosalie said, her voice trailing off as we reached the parking lot.

“There’s no need,” I cut her off, not wanting any thanks.

By the time we drove back to their house, Leo had fallen asleep in the backseat. I carried him inside and laid him on his bed. Finally, it was time for me to leave.

“I’m leaving. Leo’s fine now,” I said, turning my back and heading toward the garden gate. Suddenly, I felt her hand grab mine, squeezing it with surprising strength, as if she were trying to hold me in place.

“Don’t go. Please, at least sit in the garden for a while. I’ll bring you some coffee, just like we agreed.”

“There’s no need,” I replied, my voice sharper than I intended.

“Please… let me thank you,” she pleaded, her voice soft yet persistent.

I hated the look on her face—that innocent expression, the way her full lips curved into a smile that made her seem so vulnerable, so genuine. It made me feel things I didn’t want to feel. I hated anything that tried to make me weak.