The echoes of Len's laughter hadn't even faded when the tension in his body completely gave way. In that uncontrollable gust of mirth, his hold over his eyelids slipped. His eyes flew wide open—but the familiar golden hue was gone. In its place were two glowing embers, filled with a deep, crimson radiance.
Eric's fingers, which had been dancing in mischief until a moment ago, suddenly froze like stone. The laughter on his face gradually vanished, replaced by profound bewilderment. He leaned down, staring into Len's red eyes as if peering into the depths of a dark secret. Silence seemed to sprawl through the air.
Eric slowly lifted one hand, his fingers brushing against Len's cheek as they moved upward. He touched the edge of Len's eyelids with his fingertips very tenderly, as if wanting to confirm whether what he saw was reality or an illusion. That cold touch of the fingertips sent a shiver through Len, and he reflexively squeezed his eyes shut again.
A calm and mysterious smile emerged on Eric's lips. There was no fear in his voice now, only a strange sense of intimacy. "So... is this why you were keeping your eyes closed?" he asked in a very low voice, as if awakening a sleeping secret.
The storm within Len had settled by now. Eric's question had turned his fear into a form of solace. He slowly lifted his lashes and looked directly into Eric's gaze. His crimson eyes no longer looked terrifying;
they seemed emotional. Len said nothing, merely nodding his head slightly in affirmation. That single silent acknowledgement tore down the invisible wall that had stood behind dust and lies until now.
Len jerked his head down as if an invisible weight had struck his neck. His gaze was now buried in the sand of the ground, and strands of his hair hung over his face like a veil. "Forgive... forgive me," Len's voice echoed against the ground, layered with deep guilt. "I didn't tell you any of this before... I just..."
His throat tightened. His fingers, braced against the sand, were now scratching at the earth. "I don't even know how all this happened," he admitted in a very low voice, as if talking to himself. He was fully prepared for Eric to either run away in fear or for his eyes to hold a spark of hatred.
But the silence sprawling in that corner of the tree was broken not by a scream, but by a suppressed whisper.
There wasn't a single trace of hatred or anger on Eric's face. On the contrary, a mischievous and tender smile played across his lips.
Seeing Len bowing his head like a criminal and stammering, Eric was finding it hard to hold back his laughter. His shoulders were shaking slightly, and he had pressed his lips together tightly to prevent his chuckle from escaping.
Eric watched as Len tried to hide his entire existence in that dust. To Eric, those terrifying crimson eyes weren't a curse, but a piece of the puzzle he was now slowly beginning to solve.
He took a long breath and, suppressing his mirth, leaned back toward Len, his eyes still holding that same old glint that was miles away from any deep-seated fear.
A suppressed rumble escaped Eric's chest—he was trying his hardest to stifle his laughter. He took a deep breath and leaned in, lowering his voice near Len's bowed head. "Really, Len? Have your eyes never turned crimson before that you're trembling like you've committed a crime?"
Len didn't raise his head. His fingers had carved a deep pit in the sand. "No... it's not that," he whispered in a very low, shaky voice. "It has happened before... many times. But today... today it was all very different."
The word 'different' sparked curiosity within Eric. The clouds of laughter vanished from his face, and his brows knitted in intrigue. He tilted his neck slightly, trying to peer beneath the veil of Len's hair. "Different in what way?" he asked, his tone now serious and probing. "What was so special about today that never happened before?"
The silence deepened, so much so that even the rustling of the leaves seemed to stop. Len closed his eyes as if gathering the courage to pull out the truth that was consuming him from within. Without lifting his gaze from the ground, he spoke in an almost conspiratorial manner:
"This is the first time... that my eyes have turned red because of someone's blood."
Len's words sent an icy chill through the air. Eric's gaze instinctively drifted to the tiny scratch on his own wrist, where that bead of blood had now dried. Eric finally understood what the 'beast' within Len was truly hungry for.
A sharp glint appeared in Eric's eyes, as if he were seeing a blurred image finally coming into focus. He lowered his voice until it was nothing more than a whisper. "Are you... not a vampire? Have you truly never tasted anyone's blood?"
Len slowly raised his head. His crimson eyes were still glowing, but they held a strange helplessness. "No... it's not like that," he said in a very calm tone, though an unspoken burden was hidden within his words.
"Oh, so it's not like that?" Eric knitted his brows, a web of questions weaving in his mind. "Then whose blood did you drink? Did you react the same way then as you did just a few moments ago?"
Len slowly shook his head in dissent. Eric's curiosity was now reading the minute details of Len's face. Eric leaned in a bit closer and raised his hand, bringing it near Len's lips—the ones Len had just bitten with his own teeth. Eric's finger tenderly touched the wound where a faint bruise had begun to surface.
"If the scent of blood wasn't the reason," Eric asked, resting his finger against Len's lips, "then for what reason did you drink it back then?"
Len lowered his lashes slightly, as if reliving that memory. "When my eyes first turned red, Queen Astria thought it was because of some unfulfilled thirst," Len said, pausing. "She thought I needed blood...
and in that delusion, she placed her finger inside my mouth. I have only tasted that, but it wasn't my choice. Other than that... I have never drunk anyone's blood, nor has its scent ever made me this restless."
Len's face was now completely open to Eric. His eyes didn't hold that terrifying hunger, but a deep confusion—a confusion that couldn't understand how Eric's ordinary blood had made him so uncontrollable.
A thin layer of fear surfaced in Len's crimson eyes. He was watching every ripple of expression on Eric's face, as if waiting for a verdict. "Are... are you angry about this?" Len asked in a very suppressed voice. "Do you hate me now?"
Another deep smile spread across Eric's lips. He removed his finger from Len's lips and straightened his back with effortless ease. "Angry?" Eric repeated, a sense of peace in his tone. "No, Len. I am not angry with you at all."
These words from Eric felt as if a heavy stone had been lifted from Len's chest. A relieved smile blossomed on Len's face, making even his terrifying red eyes look suddenly tender. "Really?" he said with a spark of excitement. "I promise, Eric... I will never do this again. I will keep myself in check."
Then Len's gaze drifted back to Eric's wrist, where that tiny scratch still remained. His smile flickered slightly. "Can you... can you fix this injury?" Len asked in a concerned tone. "I mean, do you have some ointment or some magical way to make it vanish?"
Eric rotated his wrist to look at the small wound and then looked at Len, smiling softly. He shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know," he said nonchalantly. "Maybe it will heal on its own, or maybe it will stay to remind me of that uncontrollable thirst of yours."
Eric's mysterious reply lingered in the air. The last rays of the sun fell upon both their faces, making the heavy gravity of the atmosphere feel as though it were transforming into a deep and unbreakable friendship.