Entwined With the Villainous Guardian
Chapter 125: Two Wolves

Chapter 125: Two Wolves

"Oh," Viviana smiled awkwardly.

Her face went red out of embarrassment. Here she was, thinking all sorts of things. But he just wanted her to scrub his back. He scooted to the front.

Lifting her dress, she got inside the tub and sat behind him. She got the loofah and scrubbed his back as he asked her to. It was then she noticed the scar on his lower back. It was not very pronounced, but it was there. And that tattoo pretty much turned that scar into art. The tattoo artist must be very good.

Is this the scar he got in that fire?

"I was in the fire in Abenney," he said.

"Oh," she said, startled by the timing of his explanation.

At times she would wonder if he could read minds. But she knew that he must have felt her being careful around that scar.

"Do you know about the fire?" he asked.

She looked at the back of his head. His fingers were clutching the edge of the tub tightly as if he was holding back something.

"I know," she said. Her heart was pounding as she didn’t know if she should tell him about the fire or not.

He already mentioned Abenney to his grandfather and now he is asking her about it. He must want to know something.

"I was in the fire too," she added.

She couldn’t see his face, but his fingers relaxed. She observed the movements of the sinews of his defined arms. No sound came from him although his entire upper body became tense. But with the release of his breath, he relaxed too.

She thought he would question her more and waited.

He didn’t say anything.

"Will it hurt if I rub there?" she asked to break the silence.

She was surprised that he doesn’t want to ask her more. Her heart pounded. What if he already knows the truth that I am Melanie? Did he remember me?

"Old scars don’t hurt, Mousy..." he said, his words laced with a thousand meanings.

Or maybe she was the one who found meaning in some innocuous words of his.

"Body heals, doesn’t it?" she said. "Heart does not...wounds of the heart hardly heal. And even if they turn to scars, they still hurt."

He spoke nothing. There were no changes in his demeanor either. She could see that he doesn’t want to talk about it. She let him be. She didn’t want to talk about it either.

She concentrated on scrubbing him. After his back, she decided to scrub his arms as he didn’t dismiss her yet. She scrubbed his right hand first and then got to his left hand.

As she picked up his hand to slightly massage, she realized how big his hands are once again. His fingers looked boney and slim when looked on their own, but when her fingers were near the, she could see that they were twice her size.

She had small hands even for her height. Father Flannagan would tell her that she had the hands of a surgeon. He wanted her to become a surgeon. But she didn’t want to stress her parents to pay for medical college and so she never showed any interest in that field.

Placed over his hand, her hands looked minuscule. He would hold her hands from time to time and each time she felt secure. She hadn’t held hands with any men before. Well, her father doesn’t count, right? And Father Flannagan too.

She had watched dramas where holding hands were a big deal. She didn’t know why. He didn’t mind holding her hand. And there were times when he stood in front of her to shield her.

He confuses her.

Maybe she lingered over his hands for long, he looked to his side. Fearing that she might have annoyed him, or sent him the wrong signals, she stood up.

"I’m sorry. I’ll..." she tried to step out.

"I did not allow you to~"

His deep annoyed voice made her distracted and she tripped at the edge. The foot she was supporting in the tub slipped. Her heart sank to her stomach, and she knew she is going to hit her head.

There is no way out. She knew.

"Stupid!"

She heard him shout. She didn’t know what happened. But she heard the water splash, and she was in his embrace, in the water, drenched. His heart was beating as fast as her heart.

"Careless, stupid..." he mumbled under his breath as he settled back in the tub to a comfortable position.

"Sorry," she tried to get up, but as it happened, her legs have gone bye-bye out of fear.

"Stay," he hugged her and patted her back. "It’s okay... You’re okay..."

I’m not going to let you get hurt.

She leaned on his chest. The water was still dripping from the sides and he turned off the jacuzzi. As his heartbeat calmed, so did she.

"Time," he said. "They say time heals..."

Viviana lifted her head to look at him. He must be continuing their conversation from before. "Maybe..." she smiled. But she held back her smile. He hates it when she smiles.

"I heard of a story..." she said. She thought he would stop her, but he said nothing. So she continued.

"A Cherokee elder told this story to his grandson... he said that there are two wolves warring inside everyone—one that holds the pain, resentment, jealousy, evil, envy, and all the negative things. And another one that holds the positive things--joy, happiness, love, goodness... The youngster asked the elder, which wolf wins...?"

Leander looked at her. He seemed to be interested in this little story. "Which one?" he asked.

"The one you feed," Viviana answered. "So answered the elder..." she looked away. "I’ve fed the wrong wolf my whole life, Kastello... My good wolf would be starving by now... You were right when you said that I am not different from you. And as they say, the evil will have no rest..."

Leander held her close.

If she is thinking this way, how should he think?