Perfect Dark | Danmachi

Chapter 3

The battlefield is the only place that I feel something.

The painful scorching flames of hatred Hedin sends my way, accompanied by the warmth of Heith's healing. The duality is giving me whiplash. Unlike the day I almost died, I didn't finish the day in a pool of my own blood. Maybe, just maybe I'm getting stronger.

Hedin held out his hand, offering to help me up. As I take it, he smirks before smiling. Is it genuine? I know he might still hate me, but maybe he is starting to loosen up a little bit. Is his training working? Maybe he is feeling a sense of accomplishment watching his pupil grow. After all, it's been a week of us training together. I've disappointed the goddess too much lately, and it's starting to show in the way that everyone else is staring daggers at me constantly.

I've skipped dinner too many times.

This room has been my personal sanctuary away from the constant reminder that I don't belong here. Day by day, even though I know this isn't technically my room, I'm starting to feel its charm. I'll never call it home, but for now it at least provides me with solitude away from my worries.

Away from Freya.

Even though sometimes she does visit my room, instead of beckoning me to hers. I think the glares I'm receiving is because I still haven't given in to her. How could I? I barely know her. I remember the time she was laying destruction to the Ishtar family, she whispered from atop the castle, that she loves me. Loves me? How could she feel that way, about me?

I'm more confused than I've ever been.

On one hand, I've got a beautiful goddess trying to win my love. On the other hand, I'm fighting tooth and nail not to lose myself. She's taken everything from me, and sure, she's giving me so much in return. I've never been one for superficial stuff, and from what I can tell, that's all she has to offer.

After removing my bloodstained clothes, I change into something more comfortable. Will she find me attractive in this? Well, she better. I feel like a well-dressed doll in all the clothes she's carefully picked for me to wear. I wonder if it gives her butterflies, while I feel so out of place.

I guess it was never truly her intention to make me feel comfortable.

How could I? I feel as if I'm roleplaying. Is this what you wanted, Freya?

I'm sitting on the edge of my bed staring at the floor, as if I'm waiting for the news. I know what's coming, and sadly there is nothing I can do to put a stop to it. I stare for so long that my eyes lose focus, just long enough to see blurry feet standing before me.

"Bell,"

I cut him off before he could even get the words out.

"Got it." I say, as if I could refuse. I stand and feel lightheaded, silently wishing I could faint instead of making the journey to her room. I know damn well instead of letting me be pitiful, I would just be revived and sent anyway by Heith.

With a deep breath I started to ascend the stairs to her room. What an ominous presence this stairwell possesses. Has she done this to others before? Has someone else, like me, been put through the same torture? Why am I so stubborn? It's just love. Why am I fighting so hard to refuse anyway?

Oh yeah, because of her. I must keep my hope alive, so that one day I can see her again. Maybe I can even tell her how I feel. The longer I walk these stairs, the worse I feel. As I finally reach the top and reach out for the door, Ottar stops me.

He says nothing, but the look he gives me says it all. No words needed to be exchanged, he is very disappointed in me. As if he is giving me a warning to try harder, I put on my best mask of happiness before I push open the door.

There she is, laying delicately on the small loveseat as she reads a book. When she closes it and turns towards me, the way she crosses her legs sends a jolt to my heart. What is this feeling? I mean, I am a guy. So maybe I do find her attractive after all.

How could someone so beautiful be so ugly inside?

"Bell, thanks for joining me." She says, and before she tells me to sit next to her, I do it out of habit.

"Freya, you look nice this evening." What the fuck am I saying? Oh. Ottar's eyes full of fire are burned into my head at this very moment. If there is anyone I don't want to piss off, it's him.

"Oh?" Freya blushes slightly, then raises her soft hand to my cheek. I feel like I'm in a fishbowl as she touches my cheek, as if to make sure I'm the real Bell. "You are too kind." Her words are like velvet, and her touch has a hint of the flame I've been searching for.

She drops her hand for a moment, before almost reaching for mine. I feel anxiety creeping up from my core, instinctively scooting away from her by just an inch. She seems to get the hint, dropping her hand to the sofa next to my leg.

While she is radiating heat, I'm submerged in ice.

Why am I being so cold, to a woman? One that has shown me nothing but kindness since I've been here? I don't know if I have it in me to forgive her, but maybe I can try.

"What's your favorite thing to read?" I ask, making the smallest attempt to show her a glimpse of kindness. Could I love Freya, if I knew her?

Not after what she's done to me.

"I love reading stories about Hero's." She finally looks me in the eyes, her lavender hues calm me as I'm straining to maintain eye contact. "Their victories, their defeats. The most interesting part for me is that none of them truly became Hero's until they lost something they loved."

Her words were worse than any dagger wound.