The Boars Aftermath

The Boars Aftermath
Adolphus sat beside Seraphina on the edge of the bed, his hands moving with surprising tenderness as he carefully cleaned the wounds on her arms.

The cuts from the boar were shallow but still stung as he applied a soothing balm, his touch featherlight despite the intensity in his eyes.

Seraphina couldn’t help but frown, her brows furrowing as she watched him. How could he be so gentle now, after everything?

She had just tried to escape him, yet here he was, tending to her injuries with more care than she had ever seen from him.

It was confusing, maddening even. What was the point of this tenderness? She’d never want to stay.
He shouldn’t bother, she thought bitterly.

She turned her head away, trying to ignore the warmth of his hands against her skin, the way his fingers lingered a little too long over each bandage.

Adolphus said nothing, his focus entirely on treating her wounds.
He could feel her eyes on him, feel the tension radiating from her, but he didn’t look up.
He knew she didn’t understand his actions—how could she, after what he had done?
But still, he couldn’t bear the thought of her suffering, not like this. Not from wounds he could so easily tend to.

He finished dressing the last of her cuts and rose to leave the room, his expression unreadable. Seraphina watched him go, a strange mix of emotions churning in her chest.

Part of her wanted to scream at him, to tell him to stop pretending he cared. But another part—a part she hated—felt something else.

Something warmer. She shoved that feeling down, locking it away where it couldn’t betray her.

Minutes later, Adolphus returned, carrying a tray of dinner.

He placed it on the bedside table, then sat down again, this time with a more stoic demeanor. “Eat,” he said, his tone firm but not unkind.

Seraphina hesitated, but the look in his eyes left little room for argument. She slowly sat up, her body aching with each movement, and reached for the plate.

She picked up the fork and began to eat, each bite slow and measured, as if testing him. Adolphus remained silent, watching her with an intensity that made her heart race.

She tried to focus on the food, but his gaze was impossible to ignore.

The room was filled with a tense silence, broken only by the sound of her fork clinking against the plate.

As she took another bite, a small speck of sauce clung to the corner of her lips.

Without thinking, Adolphus reached out, his thumb brushing softly against her mouth to wipe it away.

Seraphina froze, her breath catching in her throat as his touch sent a shiver down her spine.

The simple, intimate gesture felt electric, her skin tingling where his thumb had grazed it. Her cheeks flushed a deep red, and she looked up at him, wide-eyed, her pulse quickening.

Adolphus’s eyes darkened as he withdrew his hand, his gaze lingering on her lips for a fraction of a second too long.

His jaw tightened, and he clenched his fists, fighting the urge to lean in closer, to close the distance between them.

But he held back, forcing himself to maintain control. He had already crossed too many lines; he couldn’t cross this one too.

“Finish your dinner,” he said, his voice low and slightly strained.

Seraphina swallowed hard, her heart still racing as she nodded. She couldn’t find the words to respond, her mind a blur of conflicting thoughts and emotions.

She resumed eating, but the food now tasted different—richer, more intense, as if his touch had awakened something in her she wasn’t ready to face.
As she finished the meal, Adolphus stood and took the tray from her, his movements slow and deliberate.

He met her eyes one last time before turning to leave the room, his expression unreadable once more.

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving Seraphina alone with her thoughts, her cheeks still burning from his touch.

She sat in the silence, her fingers brushing against her lips where his thumb had been.

She hated herself for the way her body had responded to him, for the way she had momentarily forgotten the pain he had caused her.

But most of all, she hated that despite everything, a small part of her still longed for his touch.