Dark Moon: Rise of The Dark King

Third Arc (Fallen Heart) - 353. I Will Get Ideas

He walked toward the bathroom. Spontaneusly, Rose followed, her steps light but purposeful. She didn't say a word, but Angel felt her presence, her gaze heavy with emotions he didn't want to face right now. When her hand reached out to brush against his arm, he stopped, turning abruptly to catch her wrist.

"No," he said firmly, his tone softer than the grip he had on her. "Rose, don't."

Her brows furrowed in confusion, and she tilted her head slightly. "Don't what?" she asked, though the question was more challenging than curious.

Angel let out a low sigh, his fingers loosening their hold but not letting go entirely. "Don't follow me in there."

Rose blinked, caught off guard, then narrowed her eyes. "Why not? It's just a bath, Angel. I've seen you at your worst. A little water and steam aren't going to scare me."

"That's not the point," he said, his voice dropping to a low, serious tone. "If you come in, I'll—" He hesitated, the words catching in his throat. "I told you I'll get ideas."

Her lips quirked up into a small, teasing smile, but there was a flicker of something deeper in her eyes. "I know what you mean and I don't mind it," she echoed, leaning in just enough to test the limits of his resolve.

Angel groaned softly, running a hand through his hair. "I'm serious. It's late. We both need sleep. If you—" He gestured vaguely between them, the faintest hint of a flush creeping up his neck. "If you're here, I won't just be thinking about getting clean."

Her smile faltered, and she stepped closer despite his words, her free hand brushing gently against the scars on his chest. "Angel…" she said softly, her teasing tone gone, replaced with something tender. "You're not made of stone, you know. You can let yourself relax. You don't have to keep everything so tightly wound."

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, he didn't respond. Her fingers traced one of the deeper scars on his chest, and he saw the way her expression shifted—the sadness in her eyes, the way her lips pressed together, as if she were trying not to let it show.

"I'm fine," he said finally, his voice quieter now. "These scars… they're just reminders. I'm not ashamed of them, and I don't need pity."

"It's not pity," she said quickly, her hand pausing over his heart. "It's… It's just hard to see what you've been through. I know they don't bother you, but they bother me every time I see them."

His grip on her wrist softened completely, and he reached up to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing against her skin. "I've made peace with my past. You need to, too."

She leaned into his touch slightly, her eyes closing for a brief moment before she met his gaze again. "I know. But it doesn't stop me from wishing things were different. Wishing you didn't have to carry so much. Wishing that… I was there when you through them all."

Angel's lips curved into a faint, bittersweet smile. "If I didn't carry it, someone else would have to. This is who I am."

Her eyes searched his for a moment.

"Alright," she said finally, her voice soft but steady. "I won't follow you in. But only because I don't want to be the reason we're groggy tomorrow."

He chuckled, the tension easing slightly. "Good call."

As he turned toward the bathroom again, she called out, her tone teasing once more. "Don't take too long. You promised me you'd rest, remember?"

Angel glanced back over his shoulder, a small smirk tugging at his lips. "I'll be out before you know it."

The door clicked shut behind him, and Rose let out a soft sigh, her hand brushing against her own arm as if to shake off the lingering emotions. She glanced at his discarded shirt and blazer, her thoughts swirling with a mix of admiration and sadness. He might act like the scars didn't matter, but to her, they were a constant reminder of everything he'd endured and she regretted it…

"Scars and all," she murmured to herself, a faint smile ghosting her lips. "That's who you are, Angel. But it doesn't mean I have to stop caring."

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