NOVEL NEXT Chapter 262: Sleep
The night seemed to hold its breath as Leon prepared to speak, to finally share the burden he'd been carrying alone for so long.
He took a slow breath, feeling the cool air fill his lungs, and began from the beginning.
"When I left for the dimensional space," Leon started, his voice steady but carrying an undercurrent of weight, "it wasn't just to resolve a simple problem. I needed to create something—a mana heart using my holy element."
Seraphine remained silent, her purple eyes fixed on his face with absolute focus. The starlight cast shadows across her features, making her expression difficult to read, but her grip on his arm remained firm.
"The process required trials," Leon continued, choosing his words carefully. No need to tell her every horrific detail. "Tests of willpower, endurance, and control. The holy element is... unforgiving. It demands purity, absolute conviction. Any hesitation, any weakness, and it rejects you."
The memory of those trials flashed through his mind—the searing pain, the feeling of his very soul being torn apart and reconstructed, the moments where he'd teetered on the edge of complete dissolution. But he kept his tone casual, almost dismissive.
"There were challenges, of course. The dimensional space had accelerated time, which meant I could spend years there while only days passed here. That gave me the opportunity to properly forge the mana heart, to integrate it with my existing power structure."
Years of agony compressed into a casual explanation, Leon thought wryly. She doesn't need to know about the screaming, the blood, the times I couldn't even maintain my body intact.
He glanced at her, noting how she hung on every word, and continued with the same nonchalant tone.
"I nearly died a few times during the process," he said, as if mentioning the weather. "The holy element has a tendency to purge anything it deems impure, including parts of yourself you'd rather keep. But I managed to stabilize it eventually, and the result was—" he gestured vaguely at himself, "—this. Enhanced power, better control, a complete mana heart that can process holy energy without destroying me in the process."
The casual delivery of those words—"nearly died a few times"—hung in the air between them like a physical weight.
Seraphine went completely silent.
The night sounds—crickets chirping, the distant rustle of leaves, the whisper of wind through grass—suddenly seemed deafeningly loud in the absence of her voice. Leon watched as her expression shifted, subtle changes that spoke of emotions warring beneath the surface.
Her fingers loosened on his arm, and for a moment, Leon thought she might pull away.
Instead, she stood up.
The movement was fluid, graceful, but carried an intensity that made Leon's instincts sharpen. Seraphine didn't step back or move to the side. She stepped forward, closing what little distance remained between them, and sat directly on his lap, her legs straddling his hips as she faced him.
The sudden intimacy of the position was striking. Her weight settled against him, warm and solid, her purple hair falling forward to frame her face. The starlight caught in her eyes, and Leon could see them shaking—a tremor of emotion that belied the composed mask she usually wore.
"You nearly died," she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper. The words weren't a question. They were an accusation, a prayer, a confession all rolled into one.
Her hands came up to cup his face, her palms soft against his cheeks. Her fingers trembled slightly as she held him, forcing him to meet her gaze directly. Those purple eyes, usually so calculating and cold, now swirled with something wild and desperate—an obsessive intensity that went beyond mere concern.
"Leon," she breathed, and there was a crack in her voice that she didn't try to hide. "You will never leave me, right? Ever?"
The question hung between them, raw and vulnerable. Her eyes searched his with an almost frantic need, the trembling in them betraying just how deeply his casual mention of near-death had affected her.
"Promise me," Seraphine demanded, her voice gaining strength even as her eyes continued to shake. "Promise me you'll never leave me. Say it."
She's breaking, Leon realized, seeing past the obsessive swirl in her eyes to the genuine vulnerability underneath. This isn't just her possessive nature. She's terrified.
He'd known she loved him—had seen it in her actions, her loyalty, her willingness to follow him into madness. But this moment, with her sitting on his lap and barely holding herself together, showed him the true depth of that love. It wasn't just an obsession or infatuation. It was a bone-deep need, a fear of loss so profound that his casual mention of near-death had shattered her usual composure.
She really does love me, he thought, warmth flooding through his chest. Not just the power I represent, not just the protection I offer. Me.
Without hesitation, Leon leaned forward and captured her lips with his.
The kiss was firm, decisive, carrying with it every ounce of reassurance he could muster. His hands came up to wrap around her waist, pulling her closer until no space remained between them. Her lips were soft and warm, trembling slightly against his, and he poured everything he couldn't say with words into that contact.
When he pulled back, his forehead rested against hers, their breaths mingling in the small space between them.
"I promise," Leon said, his voice low and absolute. "I will never leave you, Seraphine. Not by choice, not by death, not by any force in this world or beyond. I promise."
The words seemed to break something in her. Seraphine's eyes, which had been wide and desperate, slowly began to calm. The frantic swirl of obsession settled into something softer, though no less intense. Her trembling fingers relaxed against his cheeks, and she let out a breath she seemed to have been holding since he'd mentioned nearly dying.
"Good," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "Because I won't let you go. Ever."
She shifted forward, pressing herself fully against him, her head coming to rest on his shoulder. Her arms wrapped around his neck, holding him with a desperate tightness that spoke of just how out of control her emotions had become. Her breathing was uneven against his skin, and Leon could feel the rapid beating of her heart where their chests pressed together.
She's completely overwhelmed, he realized, feeling how tightly she clung to him.
Leon's arms wrapped around her from behind, holding her securely. One hand rested on the small of her back, the other came up to cradle the back of her head, his fingers tangling gently in her purple hair. He could feel every small tremor that ran through her body, every shaky breath she took as she processed what he'd told her.
The night continued around them, indifferent to their moment. Stars wheeled overhead in their eternal patterns. The cool breeze carried the scent of earth and grass. Somewhere in the distance, an owl called out into the darkness.
But Seraphine didn't move.
She remained exactly where she was, pressed against him, her face buried in the crook of his neck. Her breathing slowly began to even out, but she showed absolutely no intention of moving. If anything, she seemed to press closer, as if trying to merge with him completely.
Minutes passed. Then more minutes. The position should have been uncomfortable—he was sitting on a chair made out of earth, after all, with nothing but earth beneath them. But neither of them seemed to care.
Leon simply held her, one hand making slow, soothing circles on her back while the other remained tangled in her hair. He could feel the tension slowly draining from her body, replaced by a different kind of intensity—the desperate need to maintain contact, to verify through touch that he was real and present and not going anywhere.
She's not going to move, Leon realized with a mixture of amusement and tenderness. Not until I make her.
More time passed. The stars shifted slightly in their positions. The temperature dropped another degree or two. Leon's legs were definitely going numb from Seraphine's weight and the awkward position, but he didn't complain.
She needed this. Needed to feel him solid and alive beneath her, needed the reassurance that his promise had been real.
Finally, when the sky had grown even darker and the night had settled into its deepest hours, Leon spoke softly near her ear.
"Seraphine," he murmured, his breath stirring her hair. "It's really dark now. We have to sleep."
She didn't respond immediately. For a moment, Leon thought she might simply refuse to move. But then she stirred slightly, her arms loosening fractionally around his neck.
"No," she mumbled against his skin, but there was no real conviction in the word.
"We can't stay out here all night," Leon tried again, his tone gentle but firm. "You'll be cold, and we both need rest."
"I'm not cold," Seraphine countered, though another slight breeze made her press closer instinctively.
Leon smiled despite himself. "You're shivering."
The situation earlier had even made her forget that a simple use of her mana could make her warm.
"I'm not—" she started to protest, then stopped when another tremor ran through her body. Not from emotion this time, but from the genuine chill of the night air.
Stubborn, Leon thought fondly.
He shifted slightly, testing whether she would let him move. Seraphine made a small sound of protest, her arms tightening again around his neck.
"I'm not leaving," Leon assured her quickly. "Just adjusting so I can carry you inside. Unless you want to sleep on the ground?"
That seemed to penetrate the fog of emotion she'd been wrapped in. Seraphine pulled back slightly, just enough to look at his face. Her eyes were still intense, still carrying that obsessive gleam, but the desperate vulnerability had faded into something more manageable.