Shadows of Helvete

Chapter 16

The morning light filtered through the small window of Emilie's room, casting soft rays across the tangled sheets. She blinked awake slowly, her body still warm from the night before, memories of their passionate encounter replaying in her mind. A sense of calm and confusion lingered as she stretched, only to realize she was alone in the bed. Euronymous was gone.

Emilie sighed, sitting up, the events of the past few hours heavy on her mind. She wasn't sure what to think about everything. The cellar, Varg, the kiss, and what had followed afterward in her room—it all felt like a storm that had finally broken after weeks of tension. She ran a hand through her tousled hair, wondering what it all meant now. Were they something more? Were they the same as before?

Before she could untangle her thoughts, the door opened quietly, and Euronymous stepped in, a small smile on his lips. He held a cup of coffee in his hand, the steam rising from it.

"Morning," he said, his voice soft, a little rough around the edges, like he hadn't had much sleep either. He walked over to her and handed her the cup.

Emilie looked up at him, her heart doing a strange little flip in her chest. "Morning," she replied, taking the coffee gratefully. She held it between her hands, letting the warmth soothe her nerves.

Euronymous sat down on the edge of the bed, his presence filling the room in a way that made her both comfortable and uneasy. For a moment, they both sipped their drinks in silence, neither of them knowing how to address the elephant in the room.

Eventually, Emilie broke the silence. "About last night..."

Euronymous raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to continue.

"What happens now?" she asked, her voice soft but serious. "I mean... what does this mean?"

He looked at her, a mixture of emotions flickering across his face. He wasn't one for big, emotional conversations, but he knew they couldn't avoid this one. "Honestly," he began slowly, "I don't know."

Emilie's heart sank slightly at his response, but she wasn't surprised. The weight of Pelle's memory still hung over them both like a ghost, preventing either of them from fully moving forward.

"I don't want to pretend like last night didn't happen," Euronymous continued, his gaze focused on the floor, "but... I'm not sure I'm ready for this to be something serious. Not yet."

Emilie nodded, understanding his hesitation. "Neither am I," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "There's just... too much right now."

He looked up at her, their eyes meeting in a moment of shared understanding. They were both trapped in a complicated web of emotions—grief, guilt, desire—and neither of them knew how to navigate it.

"What if we don't make it complicated?" Euronymous suggested, his voice taking on a lighter tone. "We don't have to define it. We just... see where it goes."

Emilie blinked, surprised by his suggestion. "You mean... friends with benefits?"

A small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "Something like that," he said, his eyes glinting with mischief.

She felt a wave of relief wash over her, though a part of her still felt the weight of what they weren't addressing. "Okay," she agreed, her voice tentative but steady. "But we need to be clear... no expectations. No strings."

"No strings," he echoed, nodding in agreement. "For now."

They shared a small smile, the tension between them easing slightly, though both knew it wasn't entirely gone.

Later that day, they fell back into their usual rhythm. Euronymous was downstairs in the record store, working on the promotions for upcoming albums, while Emilie helped in the back, sorting through records and taking inventory. They didn't act any differently than usual—nothing to suggest the intensity of the night before. But there was a subtle change in the air, a charged undercurrent that neither could ignore.