Chapter 3. Rebellious

God, that was awful.

I couldn’t stand lying in front of Mamita. Acting and lying in front of my grandmother is too awkward. She knows me well—too well. She knows me more than I know myself.

She smirked because of my hysteria. “There could only be someone you meet in these treacherous woods of ours, Cassidy.” She turned towards me, my eyes yielded in shock, betraying me. “Who is it?”

I didn’t answer.

My blood suddenly boiled because images of the strange man’s blood-soaked body appeared in my mind. Even though his body needed a few stitches, he still looks smoking hot. Seductive. And I couldn’t bear the idea of me being swept away by his appearance.

‘Why am I thirsting over him if I loathed him?!’ I cursed my own mind, even my own thoughts are refusing to obey my emotions.

“It sure looks like you did,” my mamita whispered when I still did not answer, giving me a look that says she finally found the last piece of a puzzle. “Tell me what happened, then. I couldn’t stand the dolefulness of your eyes, darling. Was it a boy, Cassidy?”

“He doesn’t look like a boy,” I scoffed.

“Oh dear. So it’s not a human…” she murmured. “Tell me, then.”

“It’s a man, mamita.”

An “oh” escaped from her lips. I softly glared at her but she grinned instead.

“Did he do something to you?” My grandmother grabbed my wrist, staring straight at me in the eyes. “Did he harass you?!”

“No,” I shook my head. “It’s not that, Mamita.” I removed her grip, then, I started telling my grandmother what happened from the start: I found a big dog which disappeared and a bulky man lying on the wooden floor of the cabin where I left the dog. I skipped the part where the strange man humiliated my body.

My grandma told me not to think about it. Her decision is still firm to ground me inside the castle. She won’t let me get out of the castle alone.

And for the rest of the days, I remained a prisoner in my own abode.

***

Every time I sneak out of my room, she’s always on guard at the main entrance. Even at the back door.

“Mamita!” I shrieked when I opened my door, and there she was, standing like an eerie children-eating witch, waiting for me to be devoured.

“What is that?” I asked and pointed at the broomstick she was holding.

“Oh, I was cleaning earlier,” she gestured outside, “and I decided to check you up. Have you eaten?” Sighing, I shook my head because it was painfully true. Even though I was angry, deep inside I’m hungry. Meal time was the only moment I had to get out of my room, and the only time I won’t be staring at my pink-colored walls.

“Then let’s go,” she dismissed and told me to follow her in the dining room.

“Mamita…” I initiated, but she already shook her head even if I was just about to say something. I tighten my grip on my fork and spoon, “But—”

She gave me a sharp look that told me I should shut my mouth that instant. “That man you found in the cabin will be fine, Cassidy. You need not to worry. Besides, why do you still want to go there?” She knows that I hated that man but she doesn’t know that some part of me still wants to know him. And befriend him, maye.

I pressed a thin line on my lips and nodded, not wanting to persuade her anymore as I continued to eat my supper.

***

Grabbing the small basket and a thick red cape, I opened the glass window of my room, throwing the long brown rope that I found in the attic outside.

My mamita is probably in the foyer sweeping out the snow, or perhaps cleaning and tidying the kitchen after having our dinner earlier. She’s going to check up on me later, but I put a bolster and pillows that epitomize the shape of my body. Quite dumb but somehow clever. However, I knew it’s going to be temporary. Sooner or later, she’ll know I’m out and have left our castle.

Swift but careful, I head towards the cabin, quickly closing the door the moment I step inside.

I removed my cape and gloves as soon as I let the silence of the night sink in, indicating that no one is following me.

As I reached the table, shock flashed before me. But I managed to cover my mouth to refrain from a shriek escaping my lips.

“Oh God!” I silently cursed. The man is pale and freezing, his jaw fell open upon seeing me. It looks like any second from now, hell’s gate would open for his arrival.

“Are you alright?” I gently asked, holding his arms as I led him to sit down on a cushion situated on the floor.

He was literally on top of the table earlier, where the wind was directly whipping him. Torturing him. I couldn’t stand the sight of him being weak even with his strong features.

“Why… did you… come back?” his voice was hoarse and his teeth were clamoring because of the cold.

“If I didn’t, imagine what would happen to you.”

He chuckled mirthlessly. “You should’ve… stayed… in your… castle…anyway.”

“Well, I could’ve—” My eyes went wide. “Wait, castle? How did you know I lived in a castle? And, oh my Heavens, can you just please stop talking and save your energy?”

Of course he doesn't listen to me. Who am I for him to listen? I’m just a kid to him. “W—What’s your name?” his gaze slid to my face upon his question.

“C—Cassidy…” I whispered anxiously, my heart pounding. I stared back deeply at his ember green forest-like eyes. “Please raise your arms,” I muttered. “I am going to stitch your wounds.” While I was away for a few days, he managed to stop the bleeding, but that doesn’t mean it absolutely stopped. There were still remnants of dried and new blood gushing out from his skin which proves that I am correct.

“Where were you?” Is he asking me that question for real? I paused and peered at him. This is the first time I’ve seen this reaction from him, he looks mad but something…I couldn’t fathom what kind of emotion it is.

“Why do you ask?” I raised a brow. “I thought you don’t want me here.”

He grinned. “And now you’re here again.”

“Oh,” I smirked back. “You’re good at throwing questions at least.”

“Not only that.”

“What do you mean?”

He exhaled through his nose. “You’re too young to know, kid.”

I throw the cloth beside me, grabbing the needle and thread to start stitching his eyebrows. His body jolted a little when I aggressively suture his wound.

“Do you want to die?” he hissed.

“No. Do you?” I smiled in a way that I knew would irritate him. I shook my head in the last minute, “I should be the one asking you that.”

His throat bobbed. “What—”

“You want to die, but you anticipated that I’ll still come for you and treat your wounds.” I squared my shoulders. “Okay, I get it now.”

“Stop imagining things, kid.”

“I told you to not call me a kid!”

He burst into a cackle. “I was just telling the truth. How old are you, then?”

“A century-and-one years old.”

“See? You’re still a kid.” He sighed but grins, “You don’t understand what you’re doing right now.”

“Do you think of me as a joke?” Rolling my eyes, I pushed my chest even more and straddled on his lap. “For the record, I do know what I’m doing.” He looked away after I said that without breaking contact with his eyes. This man’s eyes were on fire, burning. I saw it with my own. Looking at his hands, it turned into balls as he clenched his fist.

Leaning, I whispered in his ears. “What’s your name, Mister?”

He didn’t reply. Instead, he shifted his seat and grabbed my squared shoulders. To my surprise, I almost stood from straddling him but he held my wrist firmly. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Huh?” I asked innocently.

“No fucking way,” he whispered, more to himself. I don’t know how he did that but I just saw him in front of my sight pacing back and forth. “Do you like me, kid?” he asked like he was disgusted just by the thought of it.

I was tongue-tied. My mind got haywired. What he blurted out were just five words, yet—

It pained me so much. And I start questioning myself, too. Do I really like this strange man? I don’t even know his name because he wouldn’t tell me. This man is so, so mysterious but I still find him so hot to the point that I keep on going back here even though his health is none of my freaking business.

I didn’t answer. I let the silence answer back at him. His eyes were so bright that I think I have seen the reflection of my own. Sad, like the sun in the day of mist, when his face is watery and dim. Sorrowful as the tears the sullen winter weeps.

My heart is as sad as a black stone under the blue sea. I couldn’t understand what I felt. It was all foreign to me.

Yet still…I am hoping. I am hoping that, somehow, we have met at the right time and at the right place. At another time and another place.

I am still hoping even though I know that love is a rebellious bird that nobody can tame.

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