Acidity of Regret Ch 105
- Feb 23
- 7 min read
Her senses remained muffled, as if trapped inside a vat of heavy water. Sounds reached her ears through a damp, distorted filter.
[Declan] "…nessa, Vanessa!"
The voice vibrating against her eardrums lacked clarity. Still, the recognition that someone called her name forced a frown onto her face, and a crushing pressure surged from her lungs.
Vanessa erupted into a hacking cough.
When her eyes finally fluttered open, she met his face, half-buried in the shadows. He looked ghastly—pale and trembling. His hands shook as they brushed over her features before he suddenly pulled her into a crushing embrace. He held her with the desperation of a man who had already mourned her death.
Drained of strength, she lay limp, her eyes blinking slowly.
After a moment, she raised a weak hand to push him away. Despite the feebleness of the gesture, he retreated without resistance.
[Declan] "Are you conscious?"
[Vanessa] "What is... ugh!"
Before she could finish, a wave of nausea surged. She rolled onto her side, shoulders heaving as a coughing fit seized her.
Seawater spewed from her mouth in heavy gulps. Her lips, previously parched by the frost, became slick and wet.
[Declan] "Are you alright?"
[Vanessa] "The water... what..."
[Declan] "You swallowed too much of the sea. It is a relief you are purging it."
He helped her settle back down, as she lacked the strength to support her own weight.
As her logic returned, a violent chill took its place. She imagined herself entombed within a solid block of ice. The cold gnawed past her skin and bit deep into her marrow, causing her jaw to chatter uncontrollably. Her teeth clicked together, sharp and rhythmic.
[Declan] "Stay here a moment. I must survey our surroundings."
He whispered the instruction, pulling a fallen blanket back over her shivering frame before heading deeper into the gloom.
Vanessa watched his retreating silhouette through a hazy lens. She struggled into a sitting position, the coarse wool of the blanket draped over her shoulders.
A dull ache throbbed in her shoulder—likely a remnant of her fall from the horse—and her ankle pulsed with a similar pain.
She expected the frantic flight through the woods to have worsened the sprain, but it seemed manageable. She could move, though not with her usual grace.
Truthfully, the physical injuries paled in comparison to the agonizing cold that had turned her blood to slush.
Where am I?
The freezing air forced her sluggish brain into action. She blew onto her frozen fingers, attempting to coax some warmth into them as she surveyed the space.
Moonlight filtered in from an unknown source, providing the only illumination in the dark void.
I fell from the cliff. I remember that much.
She checked her attire. Her clothes remained exactly as they were before the plunge.
Wait.
As she shifted, she realized she sat atop a pile of dry, scratchy straw.
Has he gathered this?
Recalling his panicked expression, she doubted he had found the time for such preparations.
Moreover, a more pressing question surfaced.
Why is he here?
She clutched her throbbing forehead, sifting through the blurred fragments of her memory.
Just before the world turned to water, she recalled a warm, solid weight wrapping around her. Something had gripped her tightly the moment she hit the surface.
The realization hit her like a physical blow.
He had hurled himself into the abyss after her. It was madness. In this winter, in this lethargic cold, he had performed a feat of utter recklessness.
[Declan] "Vanessa."
He reappeared from the shadows. As he approached, she couldn't suppress the question burning in her throat.
[Vanessa] "What were you thinking?"
He knelt and tucked the heavy blanket tighter around her, ensuring no skin remained exposed to the draft. He met her gaze for a long moment before a self-deprecating laugh escaped his lips.
[Declan] "Do you think I had time for thought?"
[Vanessa] "......"
[Declan] "By the time my mind caught up, I had already followed you over the edge."
She curled her fingers into the straw. His answer made her feel as though she had asked something obvious.
[Declan] "And back there, on the cliff... I took your gaze to mean something specific before you struck that man."
[Vanessa] "Something specific?"
[Declan] "A plea for me to save you if things turned for the worse."
The memory of the precipice returned. She had looked at him instinctively, for reasons she couldn't define even now.
Had he truly read such a desperate hope in her eyes?
[Vanessa] "That was..."
She couldn't deny it. If her gamble had failed and her life hung by a thread, Declan was the only hope she had left.
The thought startled her.
She had spent so long viewing him as a predator waiting to drag her into a different kind of ruin, yet in her final moment, she had looked to him as a lifeline. And Declan, sensing that unspoken intent, had answered.
Her memory of the water remained a fractured blur. She had surely lost consciousness. Her survival was entirely due to his strength; without him, she would be afloat in the dark depths.
A sudden cough tore through her. The small sound echoed sharply in the empty cave.
As he frowned and adjusted her blanket, she looked around.
[Vanessa] "Where are we?"
[Declan] "I am not certain."
[Vanessa] "Not certain...?"
She watched his puzzled expression before attempting to stand. Agony flared in her joints, making her stagger.
Declan moved to steady her, but she turned away, stubbornly finding her own footing.
She limped toward the cave entrance where he had stood. A biting wind sliced across her face.
[Vanessa] "......Oh."
Standing at the mouth of the cavern, she finally understood his uncertainty.
Before her lay nothing but a vast, undulating sea reflecting the moon's silver pillar. Towering mountains rose to her left and right, but the darkness rendered them identical, making any precise navigation impossible.
They were lost. They had survived the fall, but how they had washed up here—and where "here" was—remained a mystery.
Even if she knew their location, there was no obvious path out.
She looked down. The violent currents of the cliffside had given way to gentle ripples that kissed the shore. She slipped off a wet shoe and dipped a toe into the water.
[Vanessa] "Ngh...!"
The temperature sent a shock straight to her scalp. The sensation of her body heat plummeting forced her to retract her foot immediately. Swimming out in this weather was nothing short of suicide.
She turned back. They were trapped in this cave. The air inside made her skin crawl with its damp chill, but they had no other choice.
[Vanessa] "By the way..."
She walked back toward the man who was now her fellow castaway, her eyes falling on the blanket.
[Vanessa] "Where did this come from?"
Her dress and robe were soaked through. His clothes must be in the same state. Where had he found a dry, thick blanket?
[Declan] "It was here. Previous travelers must have left it behind, along with the straw."
He patted the straw mat he had reinforced. It was a silent invitation to sit on something other than the frigid stone.
[Vanessa] "I am fine."
In her initial daze, she had accepted his help without thought. Now that she was lucid, the kindness felt suffocating. They weren't on terms that allowed for such casual favors.
She pulled the blanket from her shoulders and offered it back. Instead of taking it, he looked up at her.
[Declan] "It belongs to the cave, Vanessa."
[Vanessa] "......"
[Declan] "It isn't mine, so you may use it without guilt."
He had read her hesitation perfectly. His voice carried a trace of anxious persuasion, which only made her more uncomfortable. He was a man who converted every small favor into a future opportunity.
[Vanessa] "You must be cold as well. Your clothes are still damp."
[Declan] "As are yours."
A silent battle of wills commenced in the heart of the cave.
Vanessa held the blanket out persistently; Declan refused to reach for it. The fabric swayed between them, a useless barrier.
She bit her blue-tinged lip. Honestly, she was freezing. If they stayed like this, she would succumb to frostbite before morning. But her pride scraped against the inside of her ribs, refusing to let her give in.
She reached out to grab his arm, intending to force the cloth into his hands.
[Vanessa] "......Your bandage is loose."
The dressing on his left arm had unraveled, the wet fabric trailing toward the floor.
[Declan] "Ah. The water must have loosened the knot."
[Vanessa] "Tie it again. Before the wound festers from the movement."
[Declan] "......Would you do it for me?"
[Vanessa] "......"
[Declan] "I understand. My apologies."
He sensed the sharpness in her gaze and immediately backed down. He began to fumble with the wet bandage using only his right hand. The process was agonizingly slow and clumsy.
She watched him, the blanket still in her hand. She let out a long, weary sigh and rubbed her temple.
[Vanessa] "Move your hand."
He instantly dropped his arm. She knelt before him and reached out.
Despite his previous struggles, the bandage wound tightly and securely under her touch. Ideally, it needed a fresh, dry dressing, but without supplies, this would have to suffice to keep the wound stable.
Declan leaned his head against the cave wall, watching her with rapt attention.
As a commander who had spent his life on the front lines, he had dressed his own wounds a thousand times. He could have tied that knot with his eyes closed, even with one hand. His clumsiness had been a calculated performance.
He didn't intend to deceive her out of malice. He simply wanted to see her care for him, even for a fleeting second.
Watching her delicate, pale hands work over his skin, he couldn't tell if he was dreaming or awake.
Comments