NOVEL NEXT Chapter 4: Burning Fire.
4 – Burning Fire.
"You've been stalking me for days,"
Ilya said coldly, his grip tightening around the stranger's wrist.
The stranger's eyes widened in panic under the curtain of hair, as he struggled to free himself, but his efforts were futile against Ilya's firm hold.
For weeks, Ilya had felt someone's gaze lingering on him, shadowing his every move.
Earlier tonight, while ending a call near the Shrine, he'd caught a glimpse of a figure reflected on his phone screen. It was a gamble leaving the window open, but one that had paid off.
The stranger remained silent, his gaze sharp and unwavering. Despite his evident strength, he was visibly larger and more powerful than Ilya, but still made no attempt to overpower him, allowing Ilya to maintain control.
Sensing his unease and hesitation, Ilya suddenly sat up. With a swift and forceful motion, he pushed the stranger onto the bed, pinning him down. Straddling his waist, Ilya used one hand to restrain both of the stranger's wrists above his head.
This close, the sight that had haunted Ilya's thoughts for weeks was now fully revealed. With his free hand, Ilya brushed aside the long, dark hair obscuring the stranger's face. What lay beneath left him momentarily breathless.
The stranger was strikingly handsome, almost otherworldly in his beauty. His sharp features, honey-colored eyes, and smooth, sun-kissed skin were mesmerizing. Ilya found himself staring, unable to look away, while the stranger's unwavering gaze studied him in return.
For a moment, the world seemed to fall silent. The sounds of the night faded, replaced by the rhythmic thudding of their hearts. Ilya swallowed hard, a dryness clawing at his throat. Clearing it awkwardly, he sat up straighter, his hands still holding the stranger in place.
'This is dangerous,'
he thought, trying to regain his composure.
Taking a deep breath, Ilya let his eyes wander, breaking their locked gaze. His focus shifted downward, tracing the stranger's muscular chest and broad shoulders. Unlike the artificially toned physiques of actors and models, his strength seemed raw and natural. His skin was smooth, firm, and slightly tanned, a contrast to Ilya's own pale complexion.
Realizing he was staring; Ilya quickly shook off the thought and cleared his throat again.
"Who are you, and why have you been stalking me?"
The stranger remained silent, his intense eyes fixed on Ilya's face, never wavering.
"Are you mute? Deaf, maybe?"
Ilya tried again, his patience surprisingly intact despite the lack of response.
The stranger's refusal to speak only piqued Ilya's curiosity. He scrutinized him more closely, noting his lack of proper clothing for the cold weather. Something about his presence seemed out of place, almost feral.
"Do you belong to the tribe? Were you abandoned here?"
Ilya asked, softening his tone slightly. Still, there was no reply, the stranger just looked at Ilya without even blinking his eyes.
"Were you raised by animals or something? Are you Tarzan?"
He seriously asked, expecting a reaction. But the stranger remained silent, his expression unreadable.
Before Ilya could press further, a knock at the door broke the tense atmosphere.
Thinking it was Leo who came to nag him, Ilya ignored him, knowing Leo would go back after knocking one or two times.
"Ilya, I know you're awake. Open up!"
It was Arya, the male lead playing Kyung Jae Hwan. Ilya sighed in frustration, recognizing Arya's persistence. Resigned, he stood and shot the stranger a warning look.
"Don't dare you leave, don't even think about moving an inch."
Though unsure if the stranger understood, Ilya left him on the bed and opened the door. Arya stood there, looking like he was seconds away from breaking it down.
Arya had come to check on him, using his usual friendly, easy-going demeanor. But it took all of Ilya's energy to send him away.
Arya was far from a simple and easy-going person, beneath his charm lay a personality just as intense as Ilya's. What always unsettled Ilya, though, was the way Arya looked at him, his eyes brimming with an unspoken desire, lust overflowing that made Ilya's skin crawl.
Finally shutting the door, Ilya turned back toward the bed. To his surprise, the stranger was still lying there, unmoving, in the exact position Ilya had left him.
A small smile tugged at Ilya's lips. For some reason, seeing the stranger's discomfort at being confined to one position amused him.
"Do you even have a place to sleep?"
Ilya asked, stepping closer. His tone had softened, though his expression still held a hint of wariness.
The stranger's golden eyes flickered briefly but remained locked on Ilya's.
Taking a deep breath, Ilya walked to the cupboard. Most of his clothes were nightwear, he had nothing that could fit the stranger's tall, broad frame. After some thought, he pulled out a spare blanket and tossed it over him.
"I don't have anything in your size, but this will do. Cover yourself, and you can sleep here tonight," Ilya said, his voice tinged with reluctant kindness.
The stranger, who had been acting as though he didn't understand a word, wrapped himself in the blanket with surprising efficiency. He lay back down in the same position, making Ilya chuckle softly.
Ilya climbed onto the other side of the bed. Though the bed was large enough, the stranger's sheer size made it feel cramped. Lying on his side, Ilya found himself staring at the stranger's face again.
The stranger turned his head slightly, meeting Ilya's gaze once more. His steady, unblinking eyes had an inexplicable pull, and before he knew it, Ilya's exhaustion overtook him. For the first time in years, he drifted into a dreamless, peaceful sleep.
The next morning, Ilya woke to the sound of Leo's call. Sitting up groggily, he realized he felt strangely refreshed after sleeping throughout the night. A rare occurrence since his mother's death. But when he turned, the other side of the bed was empty.
The stranger disappeared, taking the blanket with him.
A few days later.
"According to the story, the female lead dies at the hands of her brother, but they're changing it for a happier ending. I'm glad you don't have to die."
The makeup artist chatted cheerfully while meticulously applying Ilya's makeup, making sure he looked flawless.
"It's the last day of shooting here, finally, no more surviving without a network or instant food."
Leo grumbled, waving his phone in frustration as he tried to catch a signal.
"There's a clear signal near the Shrine,"
Ilya said absently, the thought of the stranger flashing through his mind.
Since that night, the stranger had disappeared. Not a shadow, not a presence, not even the lingering feeling of being watched.
"Resume shooting!"
The director called out, pulling Ilya from his thoughts.
There wasn't even time to dwell on the sadness that lingered in his chest.
It was the final scene. The climax. The villain was to be burned to death, a symbolic end to the dark past, paving the way for the prince and his fiancée to have their happy ending.
As the female lead, Ilya's role was simple: hand the flame torch to the male lead, Arya, playing her brother, who would then light the pyre. The villain's figure had been replaced with a dummy made of cloth and wood, ensuring the scene looked dramatic and safe.
The fire caught quickly, spreading across the dummy and the surrounding fake trees in an almost poetic display of destruction.
"Aaaaaahhhhhhh!"
The scream ripped through the air, so raw and visceral that everyone froze.
From the shadows of the trees, a figure emerged. He ran directly into the raging flames, heedless of the danger.
Gasps echoed across the set as people scrambled to stop him, but the figure of the person was taller, with the wild force of nature, he seemed unstoppable.
Strong and unyielding, he plowed through every hand trying to pull him back, dragging several people along with him as though they weighed nothing.
With his bare hands, he reached into the blazing inferno. Flames licked his skin, but he didn't flinch.
His fingers clawed at the burning pile until he emerged with a charred, broken piece of the dummy. The object was unrecognizable, nothing more than blackened debris, but the sight of it seemed to shatter something inside him.
"Aaaaaaahhhhh!"
His scream pierced the air again, reverberating through the earth beneath their feet. It was unlike anything anyone had ever heard, his grief, rage, and anguish entwined into a sound so primal it was almost inhuman.
His bloodshot eyes reflected the fire's glow as he clutched the charred remains in trembling hands. He let out another guttural cry, his voice trembling with pain that no one could understand.