A Better World (Record of Ragnarok x Reader)

Chapter 36 - A Journey Through Memory Lane Part. 2.1

She had been awake for quite a while, still unmoving on the foreign bed. The familiarity of her body sinking into the soft mattress and the sleek sheets tickling her skin made her hope it had all been just a nightmare. Just a nightmare that would end the moment she decided to open her eyes. Yet, something within her held her back.

A gulp travelled down her throat, burning – hurting - and finally, her eyes fluttered open. She was staring at an unfamiliar wooden ceiling neither too high nor too low and hanging from it was a small chandelier.

The girl attempted to shift her elbows as she adjusted her body into a sitting position, but her muscles strained, and cried out in pain. Her arms began shaking violently and simply let her body fall flat on her back once again. Though, she was still, a small pulsating sensation spread throughout her body- not intense enough to make her convulse, but more than frequent to make her uncomfortable.

She took a deep breath and craned her neck forward, it hurt, but it was a nice change from the continuous pulsation. It had only lasted a second, but she still managed to get a glimpse of a dark oak desk on the opposite side of the dimly lit room with a wooden chair right next to it. She noticed some papers scattered all over the old desk and an opened leather bag just lying atop everything. Her head fell back to the soft pillow, yet again staring at the ceiling.

The girl had no idea how much time had passed. Minutes? Hours? All she knew was that the once soft mattress gradually became harder and stiffer and her muscles pulsed. She needed to sit up.

Ignoring the screaming protests of her muscles, she adjusted her elbows, took a deep breath, and then pushed herself up so her back aligned with the wooden headboard. She winced. God, her body must hate her.

She got a better view of the room and [Name] could only describe it as... mundane with its modern size, the tall, wooden wardrobe, the lone flower in a brown pot seated on a stool at the left corner of the rectangular room.

Some grey light sipped through the small gap between the draped curtains of the window beside her, shining on the oak door as it creaked open, and a man with shoulder-length auburn hair half-tied in a bun entered with a tray of soup and water in his hand. Using his foot, he dragged - more like swept - the desk chair from his left corner and to the bed.

He smiled at her, but there was something unsettling with how his lips curved so much. It wasn't... appropriate, maybe? Almost as if he looked to be too excited. She couldn't point out what exactly had made the alarms in her head go off.

"Good, you are awake." His voice reminded her of honey – thick and sweet. And deadly. Her mother had taught her that its pleasant aroma and savoury taste would occasionally lure flies into traps - and blinded by the sweet promise of bliss they dove head-first into their own damnation. Why did she think of that now?

The man continued talking, his voice just as sweet as before. "I brought you some chicken noodle soup and a glass of water." She was clothed, but she felt naked. Silvery eyes took the liberty to roam all over her body – piercing through her entire being, unveiling all that she was. But it was the strangest feeling. He... was smiling. Kindly, might she add. But those eyes...

"Does your body hurt or, maybe even ache?"

Slowly, she nodded her head. And he watched her with newfound amusement. "Did you pull yourself up?" Once again, a nod. The man hummed, and she decided to meet his gaze. Silvery irises circled the growing intrigue that formed in his dilated pupils. The same thing again, kind face, but his eyes did not match his words.

"Well, aren't you strong? Pushing through all that pain." He had a certain ring to his voice, playful even – reminding her of the deceitful fox in one of the bedtime stories Lady Marion used to read out loud for her. Her heart ached at the memory of her dead nursemaid, but she quickly shook herself back to reality. She would not venture into such deep waters in front of this complete stranger.