━━━ ꧁ད ✶ ཌ꧂ ━━━

CHAPTER 03

━━━ ꧁ད ✶ ཌ꧂ ━━━

His face slowly approached mine as he descended from the bed to return it to its original position. He seemed lost in thought, and I still couldn't believe he was there, in front of me.

"Finally," he murmured. His voice was hoarse but sweet and harmonious. It was an exotic melody that confirmed he was foreign. But I was also certain that I had felt his breath caress my forehead. That made him more real than I thought a ghost could be.

He reached his hand behind the mattress. His fingers brushed my hair, which seemed to elicit more surprise from him than from me. It was as if he had just noticed that I was also present, just a few centimeters away.

When his hand trembled, I became aware of his nervousness. But in the end, he managed to retrieve an object from the floor.

I averted my gaze when the medallion started to play on his fingers with agility. It no longer shone, but as it jumped from his index finger to his middle finger, spun over his ring finger, and returned through the same path on his pinky, I wondered how he did it. I was sure that thing had significant weight.

He propelled himself and, without any problem, landed far from the bed.

I thought he had seen me, but he turned on his heels, and I only heard the echo of his footsteps as they took him out of the room.

Even after leaving my bedroom, his patent leather shoes resonated like heels against the wooden floorboards, without betraying any hurry.

Every movement he made was refined.

Could it be possible?

He was a ghost, exuding elegance as he walked on the floor, just like any living person could.

I pondered, but that didn't change the fact that I saw him fly over my bed.

As I deflated like a balloon, I kept my eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling without actually seeing it.

What had that whole spectacle been? My skin was still prickling, and my mouth was unable to utter a sound.

After a few minutes of having illogical thoughts, I finally got up.

My room was a complete mess, a result of Ashton's hurricane-like visit. Unidentified objects were scattered on the floor, and my dresser lay face down.

Trembling, I descended the stairs, hoping it had all been nothing more than a bad dream. However, my feet hesitated on the last step.

I let out a low curse because not only had the number of leaves increased, but there was also a large puddle due to the water that had entered for the same reason. And as if my luck couldn't get any worse, Josef and Vincent entered through the open door. Together, they observed the chaos with eyes full of admiration.

"Wow, little sis, did you rebel?" Vincent, amused, shook the water off his leather jacket.

"A magnificent work of art." In a crazy impulse, Josef ended up patting Vincent's back, and as a result, the pair of identical blonds started a slap fight. It was like watching a person argue with their reflection, except Josef was wearing sportswear because he played basketball, instead of just jeans and a T-shirt.

"Guys, stop fighting." Mom appeared at the door, but she turned to look at me in slow motion when she realized the mess. "Zara?"

I should have guessed they would come together, and since she parked the car, it would take her longer to enter. I could have locked myself in my room and pretended I had no idea.

"What did you do?" She closed the door and paused for a moment to examine me with dragonfly eyes, almost as green as emeralds. They were identical to mine. But that was the only similarity. Compared to me, her hair was blonde, with obedient waves, and it was almost completely soaked.

The twins trotted up the stairs one after the other, passing by me, releasing mischievous laughter, and pushing each other.

"Good luck," they said in unison.

"Go downstairs and clean up this mess while I prepare dinner," Mom ordered. "We'll talk later; your father is about to arrive."

Anger started to consume me because I wasn't the cause of this, but there was nothing I could do if I didn't want to anger her even more.

I descended the last step cautiously and, without saying a word, with my body trembling like jelly, I approached the small cleaning room, where the washing machine and dryer took up most of the space.

"The broom isn't here," I announced.

As if she regretted it, someone breathed heavily on the back of my neck. Then, in less than three seconds, I turned around in a jump while stifling a scream.

"What's wrong with you?" Mom, behind me, looked at me with an unfriendly face.

"I'll look for it," I replied breathlessly.

"I remember now. I left it in the garage, next to the cabinet where your father keeps his tools."

A moment later, I embarked on my journey, assuming she kept staring at me as if I had lost my mind. I felt the same way.

The lights in the garage flickered with a sparkling flicker, and after a short circuit, one of the light bulbs exploded.

An insignificant scream escaped my throat.

Things weren't going well after the medallion appeared in my life. Either that, or I had started behaving like a paranoid person. I wasn't easily scared, but everything that had happened in the last few minutes had put my nerves on edge.

I cautiously approached the car in front of Mom's. It was still hot, so due to the wet bodywork, a barely noticeable curtain of vapor rose until it dissipated into the air.

My bare feet avoided the shards that the bulb had become. And there, between the cabinet my mom had mentioned and the wall, the broom rested just out of my reach, mocking my anxious attitude.

I reached out to grab it, and the weight of an object falling on my foot made me let out a scream. Shortly after, the clinking sound of the medallion bouncing on the floor mixed with another explosion that left me in darkness, hopping on one foot and gripping the broomstick tightly.

Once again, back in the darkness. I didn't like that word in any context.

I just had to make my way to the door, and then I would be back in the safety of the light. Thinking about that kept me somewhat calm, but a new problem arose when I took the first step. I no longer remembered the exact location of each piece of glass; I only knew that the last bulb had exploded very close to me.

Feeling my way forward, next to the broom, I took a short step, then a longer one. But before I could take the third step, someone pushed me on the shoulder, forcing me to retreat all that I had managed to advance.

I tried to look around, but I couldn't see much.

"How strange..." A shiver ran through my body as his voice reached my ears.

It was Ashton, once again.

I had the impression that he moved around me, but I couldn't confirm it.

Why had he returned? I had started to believe he left after getting what he apparently came for—the medallion. But now he was back, with the same object that had struck me multiple times.

Time seemed to slow down, and as he brought me closer to the door in silence, I finally met his gaze, the one that stole every word that could have existed in my mouth.

Had he just helped me? He was supposed to be a ghost. It was normal not to touch or see them, which also meant they wouldn't be carrying barefoot girls in their arms.

Nothing about him made sense.

His icy touch contracted every muscle in my hand when, cautiously, he placed his hand on top of mine. But that was another part of me that refused to function, and together with his hand, I still clung tightly to the broomstick until it finally came loose.

His fingers were genuinely cold, and it seemed like he was playing with mine when the weight on my palm made me realize it was the medallion. He had just left it there, along with a spectral effect that made every hair on my body stand on end.

Through the darkness, I searched for his gaze and an answer as to why he was doing this, but instead, he ventured a half-smile, which caused a strange flutter in my stomach.

I could see that part of his face, as well as the dark suit he was wearing. It was a refined tailcoat tuxedo. Similarly, the high-top hat was still on his head, and it looked like he was holding something in his other hand, but I couldn't make out what it was.

Ashton seemed quite handsome and elegant. However, darkness could deceive, as it also induced fear of the unknown. He was the embodiment of a gloomy and unidentified beauty.

"I found you," he whispered softly, and a tide of chills ran up my spine.

I instinctively stepped back, and as the door closed silently in front of me, trapping him in darkness and returning me to the treacherous light, I held my breath.

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