A soft laugh escapes me, the absurdity of the scene before us almost too much to bear. Without hesitation, I draw fifty gold from my pouch, offering it to her. Our hands meet briefly, a fleeting touch—her skin, unexpectedly cool in the stifling heat of the inn, lingers in my thoughts longer than it should.
Her gaze flickers to the coins, and she offers a smile that carries a disarming innocence. 'Thank you for sponsoring my stay. I hadn't quite enough for a room.' The words are simple, yet her eyes—shades of earth and forest, with the faintest glint of gold—tell a far more intricate story.
Stunning doesn't even begin to capture her.
She lifts her glass, draining the last of her wine, the warmth of the liquid now likely as tepid as the mood I fear is slipping away. Her nose wrinkles, betraying her distaste.
'It was nice taking your money,' she says with a playful smirk, rising to leave.
Her departure sparks an unexpected flutter in my chest. Before I can stop myself— 'I'm Gale.' The words tumble out, unbidden, followed by a hasty, 'I'm uh.. I'm Gale' Her slow turn toward me gives me a moment to gather what remains of my dignity.
'Remeyra.' Her voice is cool, distant, and yet it sends a shiver through me.
Remeyra.
The name echoes in my mind, ethereal—almost divine. For a fleeting moment, I want nothing more than to hear it again and again, until the end of my days.
But no—Stop it, I chastise myself. She'll leave, just like the others.
Before I can stop myself, the words escape. 'Will you stay? For a while longer?' My voice betrays me, soft and unsure. My heart thunders in protest, mocking my desperation.
Why would she stay?
'I uh... sure.'
Her response reaches me like a breath of fresh air, light and unexpected, stirring something long dormant within me. The faint breeze of hope begins to rise again.
I offer her a soft, relieved smile. 'Shall we get some air?' I suggest, careful to mask the eagerness behind my words.
She nods, and as we walk toward the door, I feel the familiar stirrings of nervousness creeping in. Act natural, I tell myself, though I know all too well that "natural" for me is far from calm.
"Natural" for me has always meant falling in love too quickly, too completely. For most, love forms like droplets of water, gathering over time until it becomes an ocean. But my love? It's more akin to a storm—wild, relentless, tearing through everything in its path.
But not tonight. Tonight, I will resist the tempest. I will be different.
I open the door, holding it for her as I always would for a lady.
'What a gentleman.' she remarks, her voice laced with playful sarcasm.
She doesn't trust me—not yet.
The thought brings a small smile to my lips. Trust, after all, can be earned. And I will earn hers.
YOU ARE READING
The Witching Hour
RomantizmOne month after defeating the elder brain Gale finds himself alone and heartbroken after Tav left him for Astarion. He meets Remeyra, a feisty half-elf with a hatred for wizards and eyes focused on revenge. Keeping true to Gale's character in game...
