# 160
160. Perhaps It Was All For This Moment (13)
A choice that could make me happy.
I mulled over the words she left behind for a long time. It was something I hadn't even dared to wish for in all my life, but for the first time, I engraved those words deep in my mind. Then suddenly, I wanted to see Vincent.
I lay in bed waiting for Vincent. But he didn't come. I wanted to check for myself that nothing was wrong, and as he didn't visit, my frustration grew. I even dreamt of him looking down at me in my sleep.
But I learned through Joeli, who came to check on my condition, that it wasn't a dream.
"He seems to come see your face often."
"But I haven't seen him even once."
"That's strange. That shouldn't be possible."
At her puzzled reaction, I felt strange. So that night, I stayed up without sleeping. After staying awake for several nights like that, one day I sensed a presence outside my room.
I closed my eyes and pretended to be asleep. The door opened, and I heard someone enter the room. The footsteps stopped in front of the bed, and then there was no movement for a while.
I hadn't turned on the lamp, so the room was dark. But I could feel a gaze looking at me. A moment later, a large hand brushed aside the hair covering my face and carefully stroked my cheek. It was a familiar touch.
His hand grazed my earlobe and gently touched my shoulder. It was the shoulder that had been shot. His hand hovered around the shoulder without properly touching it, then withdrew, followed by a small sigh. It was a sigh that laid bare his complicated feelings.
He could have woken me at least once, but after lingering on my face for a while, his gaze seemed to disappear, and his footsteps grew distant. I snapped my eyes open and sat up. My joints creaked from lying in bed so long, but I didn't care.
"Why are you just leaving?"
Perhaps not expecting me to wake, the footsteps stopped abruptly. A slow response came, as if he had turned back toward me.
"Weren't you sleeping?"
I turned on the lamp on the nightstand beside the bed. After adjusting the brightness and looking back, I saw Vincent standing in the brightly lit room. He was looking at me as if he'd seen a ghost.
"I was pretending to sleep."
When I answered shamelessly, Vincent made an absurd face.
"Why would you pretend to sleep."
"Because I thought you'd run away if I had my eyes open."
"I'm not running away."
"But you've been sneaking in to see me every time I sleep."
When I subtly brought it up, he didn't deny it. No, why was he sneaking peeks at my face like a thief? The absurdity of it made my injured spot throb. I had many complaints I wanted to voice, but first, I wanted to see his face clearly.
I raised a hand and gestured for him to come here. But somehow Vincent hesitated in his steps. Unlike just moments ago when he had walked straight to the bed as soon as he entered the room, now he seemed reluctant to approach me. Why is he acting like that.
"Don't just stand there, come here."
"If you have something to say, just say it."
"I want to see your face but I can't see well."
"You don't need to see."
I don't know why he's being so stubborn. I gestured again for him to come here, but he didn't move as if his feet were glued to the floor. I glared at him in dissatisfaction.
"Why did you come see me in secret?"
"Because I didn't want to disturb your rest."
"It's not a disturbance. Didn't you want to ask how I was doing?"
"…How is your condition."
At his reluctant questioning, I hesitated for a moment, then gently grabbed my shoulder.
"This shoulder hurts incredibly much. Even now, ow."
I spoke loudly enough for him to hear and ducked my head. Then, when I peeked up slightly, I saw Vincent's flustered face. I groaned long while clutching my shoulder. Then I heard hurried footsteps approaching.
"Does your shoulder hurt? Does it hurt a lot?"
Vincent, who had come up to me, bent down. His hand touching my shoulder was trembling slightly. I felt Vincent's face drawing closer, seemingly to examine the wound. I quickly raised my head and met eyes with Vincent, who was right in front of my nose.
I pulled up the corners of my mouth into a smile and grabbed his wrist with the hand that had been holding my shoulder.
"Got you."
Blinking in confusion at the sudden situation, Vincent realized there was no sign of pain on my face and scowled fiercely.
"What are you doing."
"I'm sorry. It seemed like you wouldn't come if I didn't do this."
I put strength into the hand gripping his wrist so he couldn't run away. Looking at Vincent sending me a very displeased glare, I smiled sheepishly. It would have been nice if he'd just come quietly.
I scrutinized his face, clearly visible in the lamplight. I didn't see any signs of injury anywhere. I checked other places as well, but it was the same. So nothing serious had happened to him. Thank goodness. Feeling relieved inwardly, I looked at his displeased face again.
"Were you very busy? Still, you could have shown your face a bit."
"I came at night."
"Except when I was sleeping. During the day. When I had my eyes open."
"I'm sorry."
That wasn't what I said hoping for an apology. I smiled sheepishly. Vincent might have been busy in his own way, and I hadn't meant to demand why he hadn't come.
"No. If you're busy, that happens."
"I'm sorry."
"It's fine."
"I'm very sorry to you."
Only then did I stop my sheepish smile. Vincent's face sank heavily. He turned his captured wrist and interlaced his fingers with each of mine. His gaze traveled up from our held hands and landed on my bandaged shoulder.
His emerald eyes shook anxiously. Soon he unclasped our fingers and stepped back. Distance formed between us again. His face was slightly hidden in the darkness.
"Why are you doing this."
"I'm scared."
"What are you scared of?"
"That you might get hurt because of me."
His voice seemed to tremble.
"Is it because of the shoulder? It's actually not that big of a wound."
I needlessly lifted the arm on the bandaged shoulder side. I wanted to show that I was fine. Actually, I felt pain, but I didn't show it. But despite my efforts, Vincent didn't relax his expression.
"You collapsed shedding blood. You didn't even move."
"I'm moving well like this now."
"If the bullet had pierced your heart instead of your shoulder, you would have died right there."
"But I didn't die."
"If you stay by my side, you might suffer even greater wounds."
So, what are you trying to say? I lowered my arm and waited for his next words. Vincent fell silent for a moment, as if choosing his words.
"I've been thinking, if you don't want to, I won't force you."
"Force me to do what?"
"About staying here. I told you to stay by my side, but if you don't want to, you can leave."
"…."
Why is he saying that now, of all times? The sudden words made my mind go a bit blank. But Vincent didn't take back his words. I realized he meant what he had just said.
"Have you come to dislike me now?"
"No. I like you. I love you. I'm just afraid of losing someone like you."
"You say you love me, but you're so afraid of losing me that you won't keep me by your side and want to send me away?"
"Yes. At least you'll be alive."
Being alive. It was a word containing many meanings. It was also a heavy word for him and me, who had at least lost someone precious. As long as I'm alive, as long as I live well, it's fine even if I'm not by his side. I understood what he was afraid of. That's why my heart hurt even more. Because I knew he was saying this out of consideration for me.
I stared intently at Vincent. When our eyes met, Vincent couldn't bear it and turned his head away. Liar. When that's not what you truly want.
"I'll be going now."
Vincent turned around. The sight of him turning away and taking steps seemed slow. Somehow I felt a sense of urgency. A feeling that I mustn't let him go now. So I reached out to grab him.
"Wait!"
But as I hastily tried to sit up, I felt pain in my shoulder and lost my balance. I tumbled right out of the bed. Thud! A loud sound echoed. I groaned at the stinging pain that struck my face.
"Are you okay? Let me see your face."
Vincent, who had turned around again, knelt on one knee in front of me. I covered my face with my hands and sat up. I had properly smashed my face against the floor. It hurts. My vision seemed to flash. But seeing Vincent examining my face, I snapped back to my senses.
I grabbed his collar with one hand.
"D-don't go."
"What?"
"I said don't go. Don't go."
As if he'd heard something unexpected, Vincent had an extremely surprised face. I overcame my embarrassment and gripped his collar tightly. I was anxious about letting him go like this. I hoped he wouldn't leave. I still had things to say to him.
"I, I. Last time I dreamt of Lord Lucas."
I brought up the words incoherently. It must have been strange, but Vincent listened without cutting me off.
"He told me not to run away anymore, to feel the happiness that those who departed couldn't fully enjoy on their behalf, and to live. That it's okay now."
"…."
"Last time, Lord Ethan said I could stay here if I wanted. Lady Violet told me to make a choice that would make me happy. While staying here, I think I've heard too many words that were beyond what I deserved."
"It's not beyond what you deserve."
"It is beyond what I deserve."
If I hadn't saved you, these would be words I couldn't have heard. But I didn't bother saying that. I didn't want to think about what-ifs anymore. I may have regrets, but I didn't want to remain only in the past.
If there's a time in life when I must muster courage at least once, isn't it now.
"Truthfully… I want to live."
"…."
"I want to live. I didn't want to die. I want to live and become happy. Like other people, I want to squeeze in among people, love and be loved, make friends, and build a family like that, I want to settle down. I want to live like a human being."
Only after spitting it out of my own mouth did I realize. What it was that I wanted.
I want to live, I want to keep living, I want to become happy, I want to love and be loved, I too want to dream of tomorrow with someone. I want to settle down. Even if I lose someone precious within that life, I wanted to have someone to share sorrow with, comfort each other, and rely on.
What I desired was exactly that.
I dare to wish for such a thing.
"I'm not sure if this is the right feeling."
"…Tell me."
I clammed up. The breath coming out was heavy.
"I love you."
The moment I uttered those words, my vision flashed with light. A small glow instantly spread throughout my surroundings. When I closed and opened my eyes, warm sunlight was streaming into the dark room. It sparkles. My world, which had been nothing but blackness, seemed to be dyed in brilliant radiance. I felt as if a warm sensation was enveloping my entire body.
"I love you."
I put that unfamiliar emotion into words again. So that it could reach him, facing him clearly.
Vincent made a face as if his breath had stopped. As if he couldn't believe it. A laugh somehow came out at his dream-like expression.
"Say it again."
"I love you."
"Again…."
"I love you."
His face, which hadn't missed a single word of mine, slowly tilted. Say it again, say it again, he whispered low. I gave him the words he wanted as many times as he asked.
A tear fell from his downcast eyelashes.
"Say again that you'll never leave my side forever."
The whisper was pitiful. Like someone clinging on even while thinking this shouldn't be. He too had left behind partings with someone to be in this place. Perhaps he had the same thoughts as me. Ah, pitiful person. He's lamentable, and yet I love him for being greedy anyway.
My life was created through someone's sacrifice. Such me came here and saved someone for the first time. That was all. He listened to my worthless words, gave me courage, and didn't give up on life. He even said he loved someone like me.
If I were to be greedy, I wanted to live on together with Vincent.
No more words were necessary. I cupped his cheeks with both hands and gently pressed my lips against his. The touching lips were rough. As I moved them slightly, he responded with a deep kiss.
There was such a day.
Strangely, my heart was floating. My whole body was light, like walking on clouds, and my footsteps bounced. A day when even the stains on the floor looked beautiful. A day when I felt I could dance with the broomstick in my hand.
I saw a man crouching in front of the door. He had a thin body draped in loose pajamas, and one foot was bare without even a proper shoe. Whether he knew it or not, the man's unseen cloudy eyes were wandering in some unknown empty air. His sullen face looked angry. He was always like that. Perhaps he was angry at himself every moment.
Then when the man sensed my presence and turned his head, and a gentle smile spread across his sullen face as if he recognized me, my heart stirred. Without knowing which way was which, he took steps toward me blindly, like a baby bird following its mother. Seeing him approach me slowly with unsteady steps, I thought that my future, which had seemed like it would only be bleak, might turn out to be a little beautiful.
Love.
I loved you.
It wasn't a feeling of desperately wanting to confess this heart, clutching at my fiercely swelling chest. It was different from the love I had known. A feeling of standing one step behind, being considerate of the other person, and wanting to wish them happiness. And yet, it was a feeling of my heart pounding at the touch that reached me, at the body temperature that seeped in. I wanted to call this unfamiliar emotion love.
I loved you like that.