Acidity of Regret Ch 107
- Mar 1
- 7 min read
Vanessa unfastened the top button of her collar. The tiny click echoed sharply between them, a minuscule sound that felt inexplicably intense.
The second and third buttons followed, her movements growing quicker and more decisive. As her fingers reached for the fourth, they suddenly froze.
[Vanessa] "......"
Her gaze locked onto his exposed abdomen.
A colossal scar, one she had never seen before, marred his flesh. The jagged, stitched line stretched roughly two hand-spans, running diagonally from his upper chest down past his navel. It was the undeniable mark of a once-fatal wound.
Her eyes wavered for a moment before snapping back into focus. She steadied her fingers and finished unbuttoning his shirt.
During the process, her knuckles brushed against the angry scar several times. With every accidental touch, his strong jaw tightened. His Adam's apple bobbed repeatedly as she worked within inches of him.
[Vanessa] "Done."
As she pulled her hands away, he struggled out of the unbuttoned shirt. She watched him for a moment before her eyes naturally dropped lower, following an unspoken sequence.
[Vanessa] "Y-you can handle your trousers yourself."
Unwilling to assist him any further, she spun around quickly. Behind her, the rustle of fabric signaled his movements.
When the sounds ceased, she turned back.
He sat on the straw, his hardened, naked form concealed beneath the single blanket. He watched her with a steady, intense gaze that made her feel both ridiculous and overwhelmed.
[Vanessa] "Close your eyes."
[Declan] "I have already seen everyth—... Alright."
She glared at him, silently demanding compliance. He closed his eyes without further protest.
She removed her damp robe first. As her fingers found the buttons of her dress, she clutched the fabric tightly, freezing in place.
I shouldn't do this.
The sudden realization that she was crossing a point of no return crashed over her.
This wasn't just any man; it was Declan Vinkart. To hold him, completely unclothed—it was a scenario she would have rejected even in a nightmare.
Yet, the biting frost seeping through the cave walls reminded her of their stark reality. She took a deep breath.
[Vanessa] "If you open your eyes... I will kill you."
Declan, leaning against the wall with his eyes shut tight, let out a low chuckle.
Watching the silhouette of his face illuminated by a single beam of moonlight, she slowly moved her fingers.
Click. Click.
The buttons gave way more easily than she had anticipated.
A sudden thought occurred to her: perhaps she could only do this because it was him. Given their past relationship, ordering him to strip wasn't entirely foreign ground.
Regardless, this was no time for foolish sentimentality.
With grim determination, she unfastened the final button. Her dress and chemise, stiff as boards from the freezing seawater, pooled at her feet.
[Vanessa] "Ugh......"
Stripped bare, the desperate need for warmth consumed her. In that moment, she felt she would gladly leap into hellfire if it offered a reprieve from the cold.
To her, his embrace represented exactly that.
[Vanessa] "Do not open them until I tell you."
[Declan] "I won't."
His absolute obedience felt jarring. Was this not the man who had dominated every aspect of their relationship, even their physical intimacy?
[Vanessa] "......"
She forcefully pushed the useless thoughts aside and gripped his arms. He opened his embrace, silently urging her closer. As she stepped into his hold, she squeezed her own eyes shut.
The moment she straddled his thighs, he moved quickly, wrapping the thick blanket tightly around them both.
[Vanessa] "Haa......"
A small sigh escaped her lips as she settled against his chest.
Despite the suffocating tension leading up to it, the act itself was anticlimactic. Before sitting on his lap and grasping his shoulders, she had felt as though the world might shatter. Yet, once their bodies pressed together, the violent turbulence in her mind vanished, replaced by the stillness of an isolated island. The fear dissipated, leaving only quiet.
Her tangled emotions dissolved like mist the moment she leaned into his broad chest. Exactly as he had promised, the warmth she had so desperately craved enveloped her.
Could human body heat be this comforting? No... was this man always this warm?
She remembered his cold, ruthless demeanor too well; the heat radiating from his skin felt almost surreal.
[Declan] "May I hold you a little tighter?"
His hoarse voice pierced her thoughts.
[Vanessa] "You will do it even if I say no."
She pulled back slightly, breaking the contact between their chests, and their eyes met. Her icy retort brought a flicker of sorrow to his face.
[Declan] "If you hate it, I won't."
[Vanessa] "......"
[Declan] "I won't force you anymore."
[Vanessa] "...Just stay like this."
As her senses slowly thawed alongside her body, the frozen dread began to resurface.
The idea of his warmth seeping any deeper into her felt deeply uncomfortable. She remembered exactly how he used to invade her space and play with her boundaries. Her aversion was a natural defense mechanism.
Vanessa took a slow, deep breath, trying to relax her rigid muscles and clear her chaotic thoughts.
Sensing her effort, Declan slowly stroked her bare back. Basking in the newfound warmth, they focused entirely on the contact of their skin in silence.
Looking over his shoulder, her eyes fixed on the cave wall, but her mind projected the image of the scar she had just seen. It was a wound he hadn't possessed during the nights they spent together before her regression.
[Vanessa] "That scar on your abdomen......"
The words slipped out before she could stop them, more a murmur to herself than a question. But Declan, unwilling to miss even the slightest interaction, answered immediately.
[Declan] "I got it three years ago."
As she suspected. Three years ago was the year of the monster subjugation—the campaign he had fought with suicidal fervor to secure her forgiveness and ensure her marriage to Hayden proceeded without issue.
She remembered the sprawling newspaper articles detailing the high probability of his death. The memory of reading those words felt as fresh as yesterday.
It was the moment she realized she had no love left for him. Yet, bizarrely, the thought that he might be dead had suffocated her, wrapping around her throat like a physical chain.
Looking at the scar—a physical manifestation of those violent emotions—her throat tightened as if time had folded back on itself.
[Declan] "May I... ask you something?"
He spoke quietly, his arms locked around her, ensuring the blanket covered her up to her neck, unwilling to expose even an inch of her skin to the cold.
Having already laid everything bare, it felt absurd to refuse him now. She gave a small nod.
[Declan] "Back in the mountains... what was that bandit talking about?"
[Vanessa] "Talking about what?"
[Declan] "Asking how many men you had."
Her face immediately contorted in disbelief. After everything that had happened—the fall, the freezing water, the cave—he was still hung up on a bandit's cheap insult?
Realizing he was displaying petty jealousy, he gave an awkward cough. However, he didn't change the subject; he waited for her answer.
Deciding that explaining the situation was better than agonizing silence, she slowly recounted the events that led to this disaster.
[Vanessa] "There is a reason I ended up in the Siltria Mountains. One of the servants at the Evarn Estate......"
He listened quietly, his hands occasionally rubbing her back and shoulder blades to share his warmth. But when she mentioned the gardener, Tommy, his obsessive behavior, and his origins in Garten, his brow furrowed, and his body went rigid.
As she spoke calmly, the memory of a crucial detail she had entirely forgotten in the chaos finally resurfaced.
[Vanessa] "Ah, Dina."
[Declan] "......"
[Vanessa] "What happened to Dina......"
Her voice dropped, heavy with sudden despair.
Dina had followed her like a younger sister, always calling out "My Lady." The thought that she might never hear that bright voice again filled her with an uncontrollable sorrow. She should have been more observant. She should have been more careful.
[Declan] "If you mean your maid, we have her under protection."
[Vanessa] "......What?"
It was the last thing she expected. Her eyes widened as she stared at him.
[Declan] "We found her being dragged away by the bandits. I recognized her face, so we pulled her out. I wondered why she was tied up alone in the woods... the gardener did it, then."
[Vanessa] "Is that true? Is it really Dina?"
[Declan] "Yes. Brown bobbed hair. A little shorter than you. Correct?"
She nodded frantically. The sheer relief that Dina was safe made her chest heave.
[Vanessa] "You saved Dina......"
For once, a feeling far stronger than her aversion toward him swelled within her, impossible to suppress.
[Vanessa] "Thank you. I mean it... Thank you."
He watched her tearful relief in silence, looking at her as if he were witnessing an expression he thought existed only in the past.
Noticing his intense gaze, she flinched, and a sudden question struck her.
[Vanessa] "Wait. If you saved Dina right when she needed it... you must have been there. What business did you have in those mountains?"
It was a delayed realization. When he first appeared on the cliff, she had been too overwhelmed by the arrival of an ally to question his presence. Afterward, the fall and their current predicament had pushed all logic aside.
[Declan] "......Ah."
He averted his eyes, staring at the empty air instead of meeting her gaze.
When he failed to answer immediately, she pressed him with a steady, unyielding stare. She had perfectly mastered the art of making him crumble and confess simply by looking at him.
As expected, he surrendered moments later.
[Declan] "I was exterminating the bandits occupying the mountain."
[Vanessa] "......Pardon?"
[Declan] "They touched you."
She froze. She didn't even register his hand gently tucking a stray lock of wet hair behind her ear.
He was doing... what?
[Declan] "How dare they......"
He couldn't hide the lethal edge in his voice. It was clear that mere "extermination" didn't satisfy him; he looked as though he wouldn't find peace until he had hunted down and slaughtered every last one of them personally.
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