Changes
699 Words
Victoria's P.O.V.
Everything was enveloped in darkness. I could sense a faint sting on my neck, a residual reminder of what had transpired. I struggled to open my eyes, feeling immobilized, frustrated.
"Damn that woman," I muttered inwardly.
A spark ignited on my right hand, a connection with Eria, my wolf. What was Alexander doing here? Before I could piece together my thoughts, I heard him, his voice thick with sorrow, pleading for forgiveness. Now he was sorry? I couldn't even recall how many times he had hurt me since I arrived—no more than two days ago.
My attempts to move were futile; my body was clearly still recovering. I couldn't even communicate with Eria properly. After what felt like hours of struggling in this state, I tried again. Finally, I managed to c***k my eyelids open, but the effort made the stinging sensation in my neck flare up again. I suppressed a groan, though it escaped audibly.
I attempted to sit up, only to find Alexander rushing to my side, offering support. I was taken aback. I felt a warmth spreading from within me, a sign of healing, perhaps. I looked at Alexander; his eyes held guilt, and strangely, love. For me?
A series of events unfolded—sharp exchanges, apologies, the doctor's visit, and then, he hugged me. I never thought I'd crave his embrace so desperately. I've always prided myself on my resilience, my strength, my inability to forgive easily. Yet, here I was, conflicted. How could I accept him after what he'd done? How could I reject him, knowing the bond between us was undeniable, almost intoxicating?
He was a drug, addictive. Leaving him would mean losing a part of myself. Staying meant risking my pride, my autonomy. It was a tumultuous internal battle. Did I punish him, or forgive him? Was it up to me, or the Moon Goddess herself? Thoughts swirled within me, consuming my focus.
My reverie was abruptly interrupted as I found myself in his arms again, being led to his room. My mind raced, emotions in chaos, unsure if my raw, carnal feelings were reaching him. There was an unfamiliar tingling sensation in my toes—a testament to the depth of my turmoil.
He gently settled me on the bed and disappeared into the bathroom. I sighed in confusion. Nothing was clear. Doubts clouded my mind. I wanted to kiss him and push him away simultaneously.
He returned with a tub, towels, and vials of oil. I sat upright, unsure of what was to come. He knelt before me, his presence commanding attention.
"May I?"
His voice broke through my reverie.
Absentmindedly, I nodded.
He rolled up my pajamas to my thighs, a gesture devoid of any hint of impropriety. Then, he immersed my legs in warm water infused with salt—a soothing sensation washed over me.
His fingers worked magic on my feet, the tension melting away. The fatigue from the massage soon made me drowsy. He lifted my legs from the tub, drying them gently. Pouring oil into his palms, he massaged my legs with skill and tenderness. His touch was therapeutic, comforting, and strangely familiar.
"What are you doing?" I asked, voice soft with curiosity.
He met my gaze, sincerity shining in his eyes. "I don't know. It just feels right."
His eyes, usually so intense, now reflected a vulnerability I hadn't seen before. He stood, applying a bit more oil, and asked me to turn around.
I complied, feeling strangely vulnerable in his presence. "Do you mind if I...uh, remove your top?" His request caught me off guard. I realized I was still in a sports bra, not exactly the attire for such intimacy.
I nodded, allowing him to decide. He unfastened it, revealing my back to him as I faced the window. His hands gently traced the contours of my sore muscles, easing away tension with each touch. It was a moment of pure relaxation, devoid of any s****l undertones. The normalcy of the situation made me sigh with unexpected relief.
But amidst this serene moment, doubts lingered.
.
Could this be real, or was it too good to be true?
- Writer
