RESIDENT EVIL VILLAGE - The House of Dimitrescu

Chapter 31 - The Dawn of War

When Y/N awoke, it was to the feeling of soft sunlight upon his face. Coppery sunbeams filtered through the soft veiled curtains on the other side of the room, and the clock on his bedside table, one of the few still showing the true time, told him that it was not long past seven.

Beside him, Bela slept peacefully on, and as Y/N gazed down at her pale face, her porcelain skin streaked with bronze sunbeams, he found himself once again enthralled by her beauty. She looked so peaceful like this... a slight furrow in her brow as she frowned gently in her sleep, her soft, pink lips slightly parted, her golden hair spread halo-like across the pillow.

As Y/N shifted carefully in bed, Bela's eyes drifted slowly open, and seeing him, she smiled, reaching up to touch his face with a gentle hand. Smiling back, Y/N took her hand in his and kissed it gently, before touching it back to his cheek and sighing contentedly. 

'Good morning, love.' He smiled at her. Bela smiled back, her thumb gently smoothing across his face, before she frowned suddenly, quickly rolling over to look at the clock on the bedside table. 

'Hey, hey... it's alright.' Y/N reassured her, putting a reassuring hand on her arm as Bela squinted at the clock against the sunlight. 'It's still early. We've got time enough yet.' Sighing in relief, Bela rolled back onto the bed, turning to face him with a smile, but her expression was still pained as she touched his cheek. 

'I wish I could wake up with you like this every morning.' She murmured, leaning forward to kiss him gently. 'Are you still set upon confronting mother?' 

'I am.' Y/N smiled sadly back at her. 'But we'll have some time before we have to see her. She shouldn't be awake just yet.'

'You should change clothes.' Bela told him. 'I doubt there will be clean sets inside the walls.' 

Slowly, reluctantly, they climbed out from the bed, and Bela quickly disappeared to change her own clothes as well as Y/N stripped off his shirt. Taking a clean set of clothes from a nearby drawer, he shook out the rugged woodsman's attire from those many weeks ago, laying it upon the bed as he moved towards a small basin in the corner of his room. 

He poured water into the bowl and washed his face, taking a long, hard look at himself in the mirror over the water. He looked drawn, his eyes haunted, and he needed a shave. Sighing, Y/N rummaged through the chest of drawers until he found a razor, and began to shave. As he did so, images and thoughts of what the Countess might say or do to him filtered through his mind, flashing across it like a brightly-coloured film-reel. 

In fact, the images were so vivid and sudden that Y/N found it difficult to concentrate on the task at hand, and after about five minutes of stop-start shaving, he gave an exasperated sigh, and leant heavily on the basin as he shook his head, trying to clear it. 

A few moments later, he heard the bedroom door open quietly, and shortly after, he felt Bela's gentle hand upon his back. 

'Let me.' She said gently, taking the razor from Y/N's hand and running it under the water. She put her hands on his shoulders, turning him to face her, and gently tilted his head upwards. Carefully, she set the razor against his jaw, and began to work, her brow furrowed in concentration as she piloted the blade. 

When she was finished, Bela lowered the razor with a sigh, closing it and setting it down beside the basin, before leaning in and gently touching her lips against the underside of Y/N's jaw. Y/N sighed, feeling a soft shiver pass through him, before he lowered his head, taking Bela's face in his hands as their foreheads touched gently. 

'If you do have to fight,' Bela whispered to him, 'please make sure you get away safely. I love you so much...'

They moved away from the basin, taking seats upon the corner of the bed, their hands held tightly together as they waited for the dreadful shout that would soon echo throughout the castle. As they waited, Y/N glanced worriedly at the clock, wondering how Zoya and the others had managed, struggling through the mountains under the cover of dark. But as the hour-hand slowly inched onwards, Y/N felt a feeling of hope kindle inside of him.