Eternal Beloved

Chapter 4

There’s nothing but darkness wrapping around her, stuffing her into a bottomless pit. The fire spread through her bone, instead of burning, it’s knitting her abused body, healing her. Ignoring the muted pain, she forces herself to open her eyes. Pale colour satin canopy greeted her, inky strip of deep burgundy, veils the huge bed she sleeping in. Fluffy pillows were strewn across the bed, more than she could ever use but she likes it this way, providing her with the welcoming warmth but these pillows are not the only thing that kept her warm.

A toned, leanly muscular arm thrown carelessly across her stomach. His shallow breaths indicate he is fast asleep. Contrary to the calm, charming demeanour he keeps in his wake, sleeping Deming looks downright innocent like a child. Guess today is one of the rare occasion when she’s granted of sweet dream contrary to the horror version of Suicide Squad that she often got whenever she closed her eyes.

His long lashes fanned his pale cheeks, shadowing his upturned nose. Out of the man-bun, his chin-length dark hair is a stark contrast against the white pillow. His rosy thin lips are slightly apart as he mumbled something she can’t catch. In response, he pulled her closer, crushing her against him in a bear hug. Now she’s sure this is not a dream.

Hastily, she disengaged herself from him, putting a distance between them as far as the bed allows without tumbling to the floor. Her movement jostled him, who eyed her lazily before stretching his long limbs. His movement reminds her of a jungle cat, fluid but lethal.

“It’s not even dawn yet. Go back to sleep.” he said sleepily as he burrow into the comforter. She stared at him open-mouthed with disbelieve. A spirit or not, she still a woman regardless of her current state of liveliness and he is no one but a stranger who is also a man that often become the topic of gossip among spirits for his skills and familial background,

“Not going to unless you tell me what happens before.” she hisses, remembering the binding ritual that they did last night before unconsciousness took over her.

“Nothing much, you fainted last night, not that I’m aware a spirit can faint before.”

“No they don’t, but things never work normally for me remember? You were yapping last night about knowing it,” she replied bitterly, annoyed by Deming indifferent reply.

“Do you have the habit of sleeping in the same bed with your shadow spirit?”

He shook his head once, eyes remain closed.

She rolled her eyes with disbelieved. He looks far too comfortable to be someone who is not used to this arrangement.

“Never had a shadow before,” he muttered drowsily before those sculpture lips fall slack and his breath becomes even again. She sits awkwardly on the bed for a few moments before decided she might as well roam around, familiarizing herself of the surrounding now that her master is sleeping anyway. Reflectively she pushed the cover away as she swung her legs off the bed. She gasped when she can hold the blanket solidly in her hand. She can’t remember the last time she able to hold anything unless it’s a sacred item like her hairpin.

Only then it’s occurred to her it’s a result of her pact with Deming has changed her significantly. Randomly she reached for the small switch hanging from the sleeping lamp and carefully push the off button. She can’t help but feeling giddy when the light switches off. She repeats her action, turning on the light this time as she stares at the dimly lit light like a blind seeing light for the first time. To said she is thrilled is rather underrated, she just feels alive for once.

She rolled her shoulder, testing her limb that works well contrary to last night. She was so sure that she is vanishing but things seem to change overnight. Guess this Deming guy is as powerful as rumoured. Spirit shadow lives off the qi of their spiritual master and seeing how her condition improved significantly say something about that fact.  

She starts off inspecting the room that easily the size of one small flat house if taking the bathroom and built-in dresser into consideration. The huge bed is placed somewhat in the middle of the room, conveniently facing the balcony. Huge bookshelves cover the better half of the eastern wall with a small reading patio placed next to it. The opposite side of the room was turned into a lounging area complete with a television set and traditional looking fireplace.

Soft cream and gold colours with deep burgundy somehow harmonized the room.

Regardless of how she sees it, there’s a feminine touch to the room but upon inspection, in his dresser to be particular, there’s no other woman residing in this room. She quickly banishes those thoughts, no woman will appreciate having another woman in their bedroom though the other woman is just a stranded spirit like her.

“Happy with your little tour?” a velvety voice asked from the direction of the bed. Deming is half awake and absent-mindedly untangling himself from the comforter, revealing his bare upper body. Acres of silky skin covered his toned body, almost blending in with the sheets covering the bed.

“I’m bored.” she stammered, realizing she was ogling him rather indiscreetly. She grabbed a dark satin robe off the coat hook and throw it to his smug face. “You should cover up a bit. I’m might be a spirit but I’m still a woman okay, not a wall,” she muttered as she flopped onto the armchair at the end of the bed.

“I know but I don’t think it’s a problem. There’s nothing I should hide from my shadow is there?” he said teasingly, springing off the bed with the robe in his hand instead of wearing them.

“You should get used to it anyway. I sleep like this every night,” he said, pointing to his half-naked body, covered only by the dark satin pants. He sure has a thing with satin material. He sauntered toward her, placing his hands on the armrest, trapping her against the chair.   

“Besides it’s only fair for you…” his leave his word hanging as he grins devilishly. She followed his eyes trailing down her when she first realizes she’s no longer dressed in her worn-out black jeans and dark pullover. Instead, she is wearing someone’s nightgown that surprisingly fit her well though that’s not exactly what she dwells in her mind. The pressing matter is who changed her out of her clothes though she has a rough idea of the culprit.

“Yeah, fair,” she said as she slammed the small cushion on her lap to his grinning face.