No anger flared as he’d expected. No vengeful assault came. The woman’s embrace was unexpectedly warm, her supple body pressing against every inch of him, radiating youth and vitality. Beneath that intoxicating softness that could shatter any rational mind, Yihan’s tightly wound tension finally began to ease.
He let Lia hold him. Though her arms clutched him fiercely, he felt her pure joy and deep concern. The umbrella lay forgotten on the ground. Rain poured over them—soaking their clothes, their hair, their skin. Listening to the hushed rustle of the downpour, the woman in his arms seemed gentle, enchanting.
Perhaps he’d been wrong from the start. He’d imagined countless brutal endings, steeling himself for cruelty. But Lia’s choice struck him like a hammer stuffed with cotton—landing heavily on his head yet weightless, leaving only profound relief and unimaginable surprise.
He realized he’d never truly known this girl. He didn’t know how she’d survived those five years. Could he be certain she truly wanted only to see him, with no hidden agenda? Yihan couldn’t be sure. But he hoped it was true. Whether it was Carola or the Papal State hunting her relentlessly, they claimed she’d caused too much chaos on the continent. If possible, Yihan wished they’d spare this tragic girl. She’d been sealed away for five long years, alone in the darkness. Wasn’t it time she had freedom? Happiness?
Once, he’d ached over sighing that this was only a dream—that Lia was just an illusion. Now she stood before him, flesh and soul made real. Yet joy refused to rise in his heart.
Perhaps reality born from dreams wasn’t as uplifting as one might hope.
The rain intensified. Finally, Lia released him. Her cheeks glowed with lingering excitement, emerald eyes fixed on him, bright with an otherworldly light—as if fearing he’d vanish if she blinked.
She picked up the umbrella, a playful smirk curling her lips. "Aren’t you heading home?"
"You’re coming with me?"
"Where else?" Her smile turned mischievous. "Didn’t we promise to find a warm place someday? A little house where we’d live quietly together? Or did you forget?"
Yihan shook his head.
Lia’s laughter deepened. *How could you forget?* In those five sunless, silent years, I clung to that promise like a lifeline. Even when you never visited, never looked back—I never forgot.
That vow was worth my life. How could it be so easily erased?
With no other choice, Yihan led her home. He hoped Carola would be there. Seeing Lia so calm, he doubted she’d attack. Maybe this was a chance to talk, to secure safety and freedom for her.
Since he’d broken his promise for five years, he owed her that much.
But could he ever return to the past within his dreams? What awaited him there now?
Heavy-hearted, he brought Lia to the villa. Darkness filled the rooms—no lights on. Clearly, Carola wasn’t home.
*Where could she have gone?* Had she left in anger? Though Yihan often found her loud antics tiresome, the thought of her vanishing without a word tugged at his chest.
It was like the orange cat that used to sunbathe on his balcony every noon. You could stroke its fur, play with its paws—it never bit or fled. Though you shared no bond, one day you’d glance up and find the spot empty. The absence would still unsettle you.
Yihan lit a lamp. Warm light flooded the room. Lia scanned the space, nose wrinkling slightly. "I smell a woman’s scent."
*How can you even tell?* Yihan bit back the retort. Their relationship was too fragile now for jokes. "A lodger stayed here recently," he deflected. "She’s probably gone."
"Oh? A woman?" Lia’s expression turned knowing. She nodded slowly. "Well... you are a man. You have needs."
Ignoring the sour tone, Yihan prepared the spare room. "You’ll stay here. I’ll be next door. Call if you need anything."
Seeing her rain-dampened face, his heart softened. He gently pressed a dry towel to her cheeks. "I’ll get you proper clothes tomorrow. Make do with these tonight."
Lia lowered her eyes. Her lashes cast delicate shadows. She didn’t pull away. A flicker of tenderness flashed deep in her gaze.
Late at night, Yihan lay awake staring at the ceiling. Raindrops traced winding paths down the windowpane.
Too much sleep the night before left him restless now. He tossed, mind heavy with worry.
Everything had spiraled beyond his expectations. He’d thought the Crimson Flame Witch would take longer to find him—yet she appeared after just one evening at a tavern. Worse, Lia’s calm demeanor was unreadable. Like a still lake hiding treacherous currents beneath its surface. He couldn’t tell if bringing her home was a blessing or a curse.
The past in his dreams moved too slowly. Reality raced too fast. Carola had forgotten their history. Lia guarded her secrets close. Yihan felt trapped. Only returning to that dream—five years ago—could reveal the truth. But could he afford to sleep now? Would it be too late to change anything?
He rolled over, trying to count sheep into slumber.
The door creaked open. The sound cut sharply through the quiet rain.
Yihan’s heart lurched. He turned—and froze.
A woman stood silhouetted in the doorway, hair wild, nearly bare. Her eyes burned with barely contained longing.
Dim streetlight spilled through the window, illuminating Lia’s tall, curvaceous figure. She wore only a thin pink robe, barefoot, posture unashamedly open.
She’d changed so much from the girl he remembered. The unripe fruit had ripened—plump, juicy beneath flushed skin.
Catching his gaze, she pressed her long legs together, her hips and chest forming a mesmerizing curve.
Yihan knew exactly what she wanted. He wasn’t opposed—just unsettled. He sat up.
Lia tiptoed closer, a slow smile curving her red lips. The fire in her eyes deepened. Up close, Yihan noticed faint, dull golden patterns tracing her skin from neck to ankle—barely visible unless you looked closely.
The mark of a Witch. Once a curse that tormented her, now mastered. The price? Five years sealed in darkness. A blessing and a curse, intertwined.
She settled lightly on the edge of his bed, back turned. Her legs folded gracefully. Smooth skin glowed inches from him. Dark gold hair spilled over rounded shoulders, veiling her chest—almost inviting his hand to brush it aside.
Yihan didn’t move. He only watched.
Lia shifted, surprised. "Must I take the lead?" she blurted.
"In my time," he said quietly, "sleeping together the moment you bring someone home is called *hooking up*."
Lia chuckled, used to his strange terms. "Still spouting odd phrases, I see."
Yihan didn’t smile. Her beauty stirred him—pale skin, perfect face, long legs. His body thrummed with anticipation. But staring at those mature features, he kept seeing the innocent girl from his memories. He hesitated.
*Could he accept this woman? Or only the girl she’d been?*
She was still Lia. That hadn’t changed. But having known her pure, bright self, this sensual stranger felt... dissonant.
While he hesitated, Lia turned. She slipped off the robe, facing him unreserved. Her voice dripped with honeyed persuasion:
"Before, when I offered myself... you refused. Said I wasn’t grown. Wouldn’t accept me no matter what."
"Am I still not enough for you now? Or..." Her voice trembled. "Did you never mean what you said about being together? Was it all just a lie?"
Yihan heard the loneliness beneath her words.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her bare skin to his. Her lips brushed his ear, whispering secrets only lovers share:
"I don’t want apologies. I don’t want promises. The past is gone. I just want to live quietly with you now. Is that so wrong?"
"Can you accept me?"
Under those hopeful, fearful eyes, Yihan’s resolve crumbled. He remembered selling matches with a shivering girl in the snow. Chopping firewood for her when she couldn’t pay. Sitting by the hearth in a dorm room, watching her smile in a long dress. Just as she said—in this strange world, Lia had been his warmth. His shield against loneliness.
Hadn’t he always wished for someone like her?
He pulled her close, feeling her warmth, breathing in her scent. He lifted his face—and kissed her sweet, waiting lips...
