“I don’t see what’s wrong with calling a piece of sh*t ‘a piece of sh*t’.” I remark coldly.
“Killian, unmask him.” I order. Killian nods, taking off his mask using his sword, and throwing it away.
‘Oh, he is…’
Count Gall Lorence, one of Aiden’s judgemental supporters. But his family isn’t that influential nor wealthy to execute such a crime. Somebody must be behind him.
“Hey, pale one. What did this ‘responsible’ count offer?” I ask, turning to the other man.
“He… fainted, my lady.” Killian informs indifferently.
“Such a coward for someone who tried to earn money the dirty way.” I roll my eyes.
“So, Count. Wanna confess?”
“You ain’t getting anything out of me, b*tch!”
“Hah, is that so?” I scoff, slowly pushing the heel of my high heel into his head.
“Ahhh-!” He screams in excessive pain.
“I’m sure you know that I’ve slain over 10 magical beasts at once and destroyed a man’s entire bloodline durin
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“Originally, I wanted to reject you cause I’m afraid of hurting you since I’ll return to my world. But now, I’m going to think only about the present.” I continue, without pulling my head out from his shirt. I’m afraid to meet his mesmerizing gaze. I don’t dare to look up with these heated up cheeks and ears. Though a satisfying and proud feeling flutters inside me. I succeed. I succeed in saying the heaviest and most embarrassing words I’ve ever said in both my current and previous life. “Ah!” I gasp as the arms around me embrace tighter. He rests his head on my shoulder which is covered with my hair. “…I’m happy. I’m happy you feel the same.” He confesses in a loving emotional tone, too near to my right ear that it tickles from the blowing strands of my baby hairs around it caused by his breathing. Remaining in that position for some time, we let go, freeing each other and keeping our arms to ourselves. The warmth of his embrace and hands brushing m
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Vision Of Ardiane MEMORY 24: Our Picnic (Pt.2)
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Vision Of Ardiane CHAPTER 26: The Enemy Under My Nose (Pt.1)
My eye muscles open my heavy eyelids. I blink a few times for my sight is blackish. When I’m about to rub my eyes, I can’t move my hands. They’re tied behind me – to a pole perhaps. The smell of straws-like strikes my sense of smell. By then, I realize I’m in a barn, sitting on the ground with my hands tied. Why am I in this condition? What happened? Am I kidnapped? Forcing my brain to search the library of memories despite feeling pain from doing so, the memory of what happened at the wine cellar flashes. “Phantom!” I scream as my brain is still playing the memory. D*mn it! How can I be so reckless to be kidnapped by that despicable b*stard? “You call?” A voice speaks from above. As my head looks up, something falls to the ground, flying bags of dust from straws and hays to me. I don’t cough, not bothered by the dust one bit. They don’t deserve my awareness and attention right now, the good-for-nothing animal in front of me does. “…Phantom.”
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