Chapter 3: Touch

[Roux]

As if he does not hear me, he drops his machete right outside the door, kicking his boots and places it right on the makeshift rack.

Following him inside, without caring about the mud on my feet, the room suddenly felt too cramped now that he takes most of the space with his gigantic frame. The entire cabin seemed to have suddenly shrunk in size, and I couldn’t help but suck the air he’s in.

Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if he would admit that he has killed the beast.

The man headed directly to the adjoined kitchen and on the handcrafter cabinets and countertops, he pulled out a tin pitcher, bringing it around to the dining table, pouring the water into the glass. Then he looks at me in wonderment, pulling the chair as an invitation for me to sit in.

Is he serving me?

Why is he not speaking?

“Thank you for your hospitality, but you still haven’t told me your name.” I say, gingerly taking the chair he had offered me.

The man looks at me for a brief moment as he takes at the wooden bowl in front of me and turns to the fireplace where the simmering pot is still hanging.

I watched him carefully, moving so graciously. His size perfectly fit in this cabin despite the limited space.

He then turns to me holding the bowl with its steaming contents, sliding it right into me. My brows pulled up, eyeing the array of vibrant vegetables, obviously freshly harvested from the garden, united in a fragrant broth.

As if in queue, my stomach growls loudly, and the heat from the stew immediately transfers into my face.

Rings of hell! That was embarrassing! I lowered my head, not wanting this man to see my face matching the color of my hair.

His demeanor relaxed a little with an amused expression, then in one single sweep, he grabbed the sofa that was previously facing the fireplace, leaving my mouth ajar from the exceptional strength he demonstrated in just a second.

Damn! He might have lifted the entire cabin if he wanted to.

Shutting my jaw, I ignore the strange sensation riling up deep in my core and divert my attention to the stew. Though, my eyes secretly follow him, take his own bowl and serve himself.

We both eat in silence.

Though he hasn’t spoken a word since, I wonder if he could speak at all.

Is he mute?

He doesn’t seem deaf either as it shows that he could perfectly hear me well. Does he not understand what I say?

Well, there’s only one way to test that theory.

I take the last bite of potato on my stew, I put down my spoon and turn to him. Noticing that I am done with my food, he stops immediately, spoon levitating halfway to meet his mouth.

Oh, that mouth. My eyes linger a bit on his lips, some images flashing at the back of my head wondering how it would feel like to kiss him and other things he could do with his mouth.

Adite’s mercy! Roux what are you thinking?

Ridding myself from those filthy thoughts, I cleared my throat and smiled at him.

“Thank you for accommodating me in your humble abode,” I started, grappling at the next words I am going to say.

“I have no idea how you got me from that beast, nonetheless I am eternally grateful.”

The moment I mentioned the beast, wary evidently sparked on his emerald gaze. Though, it only lasted a second, and if I wasn’t staring at him intently, I would have missed it.

Ignoring the strange feeling that is starting to grow, I scooted my chair closer to him.

“I am Roux,” I pointed to myself, “Roo,” my voice slow, enunciating the sound of my name as though I was speaking to a child. The thought of it brings me to the time that I was teaching Lotte how to speak.

Needle pricks my chest, thinking how devastated she would be and I am sure she would be blaming herself for what happened to me. Tears stung my eyes, but I held back the sob clawing at my throat, not wanting to think so grimly of my situation.

I am alive. That is what matters the most. Maybe, if I can convince this man to take me back to my town to see my sister again and tell her one more time that none of this was her fault. If given a chance, I would jump into the river just to save her over and again, I would.

But first, we needed to know each other. Shaking off the growing ache inside my chest, I pointed at him, telling that it was his turn.

His brows furrowed, head tilted looking at my finger pointing at him.

I sigh. Well, he certainly does not understand me, and I am hoping that he’s not mute.

Adite’s mercy! I do not know how to do sign language.

Without giving it a thought, I took his massive hand. Tingles skittering over my body as soon as our skin touches. Then, I spread his palm, sucking up a deep breath as his rough palm abraded with mine.

I certainly do not know what I am doing, but I place his hand over my chest, his fingers sprawled easily covering almost the entirety in front of me. His bodily warmth seeping through the fabric of my dress, spreading down to my core that I have to clench my thighs. My heart immediately clamored, like a wild bird trapped in a cage and wanting to get out.

His eyes widened, not expecting what I just did, but within those emerald orbs, there is something else smoldering in them. Something that I can’t explain that is swallowing me inside.

Does he feel my heart wildly beating?

Of course, Roux! What kind of question is that?

Though, he might think I’m nervous. Which, I am.

Swallowing the overwhelming sensation thrumming all over my body, I repeated myself.

“Roux.” I leaned down, reached to him and placed my palm to his chest. His body immediately tensed underneath my touch, my hand looked so small above his sculpted pecs.

His heart. It mirrors the drumbeat of mine.

I forced a soft smile on my face and stared at him expectantly, hoping he would get what I was trying to convey.

“Aenon.”

Rings of hell, he speaks! Much to my excitement that one theory of him being mute eliminated. I couldn’t help but grin widely and bask at the sound of his voice. It resonates through the entire cabin, rich and deep, like velvet caressing through my skin, eliciting the tiny hairs on my body to stand from the roots.

Aenon. What a beautiful name, fitting to him.

I cleared my throat, recoiling away from him, immediately missing the heat from his palm on my chest, yet the ghost of it still lingers and burns on my skin.

“Nice to meet you Aenon,” I say, grabbing the tin glass of water and chugging down the rest of it. Suddenly feeling so thirty.

Unfortunately, no amount of water can quench it.

Damn.