Noah woke up the next morning feeling refreshed. He blinked blearily, and when the fog in his vision cleared, he frowned. He wasn't at home.
"Where… where am I?" he mumbled groggily.
The moment he tried to move, something heavy rested on his chest. He looked down and saw Aralyn, fast asleep.
He had seen all kinds of beauty in the girls he had met before. But seeing them while they slept gave him a different perspective. Waking up beside him, their eyes often held a certain kind of longing. He had always had trouble believing that it was love. Most of them had only been with him for his looks, or for what he could offer in bed.
But this? This felt different. She didn't expect anything from him. She didn't give him the easy attention other girls usually did. No sweet smiles, no effortless touch, nothing. Except that quiet hope that he wouldn't expose her.
That was what caught his interest from the very beginning. Her coldness toward him and the townsfolk. And yet, everything about her softened around Mrs. Collin or the Ashwood twins. Now, that softness was beginning to show around him too, little by little.
He gently traced the curve of her cheek, his heart picking up at the softness of her skin beneath his touch. She looked so peaceful like this, her beauty softer, almost ethereal–angelic, if he could call it that. Aralyn looked unguarded, and the fact that she was asleep on his chest sent his thoughts spiraling.
Noah knew Aralyn had been slowly building her trust in him. To see her this close now, it felt like another step. But why? Why now?
He tried to think back. The moment the Blessing Ritual had begun, he remembered feeling suddenly exhausted. He groaned softly, leaning his head back.
"Must've been the new booze," he muttered, recalling how Owen had pulled him away from Aralyn and practically forced him to try whatever new thing they brought from the city. After that, everything had gone blurry.
A small movement brought his attention back. Aralyn stirred, blinking her eyes open, and his heart kicked against his ribs.
Cute, he thought.
She lifted her head when she saw him awake.
"How're you feeling?" she asked, concern etched across her brows.
"Good morning to you," he greeted huskily, his voice still thick with sleep. "I feel fine. Why?"
"That's good to hear," she said.
She blinked away the remnants of sleep and got up. Only then did Noah realize she was still in her costume. She made her way to the kitchen, leaving him alone for a moment.
Noah sat up, stretching his arms and legs across the couch, tilting his neck until a satisfying crack echoed softly. He looked down at himself and frowned again.
Like Aralyn, he was still in his costume from last night. He tried to piece things together, but nothing came. It was frustrating.
"What the hell?"
He stood and stretched again, unbuttoning his vest and draping it over the back of the couch before sauntering into the kitchen. Aralyn was already moving around, taking two mugs from the cabinet shelf.
He climbed onto one of the stools and rubbed his face.
"Wash your face first."
He looked up at her. She didn't meet his gaze as she poured hot water from the kettle into the mugs.
Without a word, he obeyed, walking over to the sink and splashing cold water onto his face. The cold water made him felt refreshed.
"Fuck, that feels good," he moaned and when he turned around, his face was suddenly covered with a small, soft cloth. Aralyn had thrown it from where she stood, landing perfectly on his face.
"Don't let it drip on my kitchen floor," she said.
"Or what?" He shot back smugly, though he still wiped his face with the cloth. He made his way back to the stool and sat down.
"Or I can make you forget anything about me," she warned. There was no real bite in her tone as she set a plate of cream puffs on the counter. She brought the two mugs over and slid on toward him.
He raised a brow. "Really? You can do that?"
The curiosity in his eyes made her lips twitch slightly. "I'm just kidding."
Noah gave her a look, unimpressed, as he took a sip of his tea. "Would you do it if you could?"
Aralyn paused, her spoon hovering mid-stir. She took a slow sip before answering. "Maybe."
Noah smirked, reaching for a cream puff and biting into it.
"This stuff is so good. You're not hexing anything into it to make it taste better, right?"
Aralyn blinked at him, genuinely offended.
"Excuse me, I don't use magic to make my food taste good."
"Wow," Noah nodded thoughtfully, chewing. "So this is all you? I'm impressed."
"It's called skill," she replied coolly, though there was a faint hint of pride in her voice.
He hummed, reaching for another. "Careful, Scarf. If you keep this up, I might start coming over just for the food."
"You already do," she said dryly.
He grinned. "Yeah, but now I have a better excuse."
Aralyn rolled her eyes, turning back to her mug, though the corner of her lips lifted ever so slightly.
They sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes. Noah would subtly steal glances at Aralyn. She looked tired. More tired than he was. The dark circles under her eyes were visible even from where he sat. Even her movements seemed slower, almost sluggish at times, though she tried to hide it.
"Talk to me, Scarf. What happened last night?" He finally asked. The question had been nagging at him the more he tried to piece things together. "Did we finish the ritual?"
He watched the gears in her head turn. When she didn't answer right away, he pressed on.
"Please, tell me. I want to know."
Aralyn looked up at him earnestly. "You really don't remember?"
He sighed.
"Just bits and pieces. Owen pulled me away for that new alcohol, and that bastard annoyed you. Then we were watching the Blessing Ritual. Right?"
Aralyn stayed quiet, blinking at him.
He grew impatient. "Right? And why do you look like you haven't slept? Were you out helping Batman in the middle of the night, fighting off bad guys while I passed out?"
Aralyn let out a deep sigh. Her lips parted, ready to say something but the loud ringing of his phone cut her off.
He fished it out of his pocket and glanced at the screen.
Dad.
He hesitated, thumb hovering, but Aralyn said, "Just answer it."
He slid to accept the call and brought the phone to his ear. "Dad?"
"Where are you? I need you back home."
Noah groaned inwardly. "Is it urgent?"
"Get here as soon as you can."
The call ended without another word. No goodbye. Typical.
"Did you want to say something earlier?" He asked, turning back to her as he slipped his phone away.
Noah noticed her fingers fidgeting along the rim of her mug, her gaze lowered as if she were still debating with herself.
"It's nothing," she said quietly.
Dad could wait.
Noah rounded the counter and leaned closer, forcing her to lean back slightly, her eyes widening at the sudden closeness. He placed his palm against her forehead, checking her temperature.
"You're not even burning up, but you look pale. You sure you're alright, Scarf?"
He couldn't hide the concern in his voice. It wasn't like her to look this... drained.
Aralyn nodded, and for a brief moment, he saw how she almost leaned into his touch. He swallowed and stepped back. He made a mental note to ask her another time.
"I have to go. Thanks for the hospitality, Scarf. Try to get some sleep. You look like you need it," he said, giving her a small wave before heading out.
Aralyn listened as the door closed behind him and let out a heavy sigh.
'...I'm pretty sure he's not going to miss it with the gang.'
If he was, why hadn't she seen Nathaniel last night?