Chapter103 :In the Flickering Light of Confession
✧༚ Chapter 𝟏𝟎𝟑:In the Flickering Light of Confession ༄
My eyes widened at the warm, soft touch.
As I stepped back in embarrassment, my gaze collided with Johannes’ bright blue eyes. Emotions, unfamiliar and fleeting, danced across his face—appearing, vanishing, then returning again like waves upon a restless sea.
Before I could say a single word, he kissed me again. It was deeper this time. Urgent. As if he were drowning, and my lips were his last breath.
A tremor of bewilderment passed through me. His anxiety, so rarely visible, was now etched in every hurried motion. I let myself be taken by the moment, lost in the whirlwind of it—until reason returned.
‘Didn’t you say you regretted getting involved with me?’
Suddenly lucid, I pushed him back. Perhaps he had not been exerting much force, for his body fell onto the sofa with ease—and I, to my dismay, landed atop him. Startled, I tried to rise again, but his arms locked gently around my back.
“What is this now…?”
I tried to resist.
He held firm.
“It stays like this.”
“No, what are you doing?”
“…I’m holding you.”
His voice was deep. Certain.
With a featherlight touch, he wiped away the tears on my cheeks. The tenderness undid me. I didn’t understand. Why would he do this, after saying he regretted me?
I frowned, heavy with emotion.
“…I heard you regret getting involved with me.”
“I do.”
His answer came quickly—too quickly. He sighed and closed his eyes, as if wearied by the truth of it.
I laughed bitterly.
Perhaps it was nothing more than desire. Perhaps my confession had stirred something base in him, and he mistook it for affection. I blinked, trying to stand again. But he pressed me down with a firm yet gentle hand.
“I told you to stay like this.”
“…You said you regret it, but what are you doing now?”
He looked down at me, his blue eyes unreadable.
“I never said I regretted meeting you.”
The world stilled.
That sentence fell like a stone in my chest, sending ripples across the fragile surface of my heart.
I burst into tears again.
“Are you turning it around and rejecting me like this?”
“Do you see this as rejection?”
His brows furrowed in disbelief.
“Then what is it? Why are you confusing me like this? You’re making me feel like I mean nothing—like I’m easy to toss aside.”
“Easy?”
His tone changed. Dismayed. Offended.
“You’ve never had it easy. If it were, I wouldn’t have stopped like this.”
He let his hand fall into his hair, drawing it back with a long breath.
“Not me.”
“…I don’t understand anything at all what you’re saying.”
He looked so tired.
“Why are you doing this when you say you regret it? I thought—maybe you just did it because I said I liked you… maybe you thought you had the right to—”
“No matter how mad I am, I wouldn’t kiss a woman I don’t have feelings for.”
I fell silent.
The heat that surged to my cheeks was unbearable.
“I, too, am confused,” he said, his voice low. “I’ve never felt this way before. But at least… I want you to know that I feel the same as you.”
He kissed the crown of my head, and I could feel the tremble in his breath, the pounding of his heart.
“If you still doubt me… I understand. But I am telling you the truth. I had no part in Sergeant Prim’s death. Not a single one.”
At that, I looked up at him.
“…Can I trust you?”
“At the very least, I will never lie to you. That’s all I ask you believe.”
He might have been hiding something—some other pain or secret. But who doesn’t have things they cannot speak aloud?
I let go of the doubt.
The guilt I had placed upon his shoulders dissolved, replaced by something gentler, something true.
Edward Windsor.
The thought of him crept in—like a shadow lurking behind candlelight. Could he be the one? The serial killer? Was I his next chosen victim?
If so… I would do all I could to help Johannes stop him.
I thought to tell Johannes, but I held my tongue. There was no evidence. Nothing but suspicion. For now, I would remain silent.
Johannes lifted me effortlessly. Then, with mischief in his eyes, he said something absurd.
“I thought you hated me.”
“…Why on earth did you think that?”
Instead of answering, he pressed his lips to mine.
“There is no reason to dislike you,” he whispered. “Whatever the method, you saved our house from ruin. You fulfilled every part of our agreement, and asked nothing unreasonable in return.”
Still, I didn’t understand why he kept believing I resented him.
He wore arrogance like a cloak, yet now he seemed so achingly unsure.
“If I had known it would be like this,” I murmured, “I would have said it aloud.”
I kissed him again.
This time, he smiled—soft and rare.
“Does it make sense to kiss me now?”
“…What do you mean by that? Of course—”
“I’m glad.”
He kissed me once more.
This kiss, born not of duty or desperation, but of truth—was different.
And I let myself drown in it.
The world outside faded, swallowed by firelight and warmth.
We were tangled now—in breath, in silence, in something wordless.
The couch creaked beneath us.
“…The sofa is narrow,” I whispered, blushing. “I’m going to fall.”
“It won’t let you fall.”
“That’s not what I meant….”
But I let the words die.
Trying to stay composed, I asked:
“So now we… are we truly a couple? Because we love each other?”
He paused. Sadness touched his gaze.
Silence stretched, like a thread pulled taut.
And then he said, softly:
“I guess….”
A kiss brushed my lips.
“It would be better to get a divorce.”
