No Love For The Villain - Chapter 27
Eli wiped the corner of Sierra’s mouth with the back of his hand.
A moment later, Sierra felt something foreign prying her lips open. It was a spoon. The fever reducer that touched her tongue was sweet yet bitter.
It seemed to be medicine meant for children. The intense sweetness, masking its inherent bitterness, lingered stickily in her mouth.
The cold dampness touching her forehead must have been from a damp cloth. Having only ever wiped Daniel’s forehead, Sierra found this care, now given to her, unfamiliar.
Sierra fell asleep again in her unrelenting fever, but she no longer dreamed of her father.
Occasionally, the blurred vision of Eli keeping watch by her side flickered before her. She couldn’t tell if it was a happy dream or an even worse nightmare.
When the fever subsided and she opened her eyes, the space beside her was empty.
Sierra looked at the chair that had been moved to her bedside. It was the chair from her desk. She vaguely imagined the large man sitting on the small chair. But the man was gone, and the chair was empty.
Outside the window, it was dawn. Sierra blinked slowly and sat up. It was difficult to move, wrapped up like a silkworm in a cocoon.
Finally freeing herself from the blankets, Sierra opened the window. After the winter wind rushed in fiercely, the scenery outside the window…
…became even clearer.
The breaking dawn and the road stretching out in front of the Red House came into view. Eli’s black car was nowhere to be seen.
Had he left?
Her gaze, searching for the vanished man, wandered over the empty road. She leaned out the window. Then, the black bonnet that had been hidden by the window frame came into view.
Eli’s car, parked in front of the house, finally became visible.
Sierra’s golden hair fluttered in the wind. Just like the day she had ridden in his car.
He didn’t leave.
Sierra, who had been gazing endlessly at Eli’s car, gradually leaned further out the window. She precariously braced her body against the window frame, her feet lifting into the air.
At that moment, someone approached from behind and grabbed Sierra by the waist, pulling her into an embrace.
“Ah…!”
Sierra let out only a startled gasp as she was pulled back against the person who had enveloped her from behind. Through her thin blouse, his surging pulse throbbed.
“Just after I got your fever down, you’re trying to die.”
Eli’s voice was low and calm. But against her back, his pounding heartbeat resonated. Sierra could tell, through the vibration against her, that he had been startled.
Did he think she was trying to jump? His heart was pounding as if worried she might die.
Holding Sierra in his arms, Eli reached out and closed the window. The window shut, and the wind ceased.
The warmth and heartbeat against her back grew distant.
For a moment, she felt cold and empty. Frantically, Sierra turned around and grabbed his sleeve. Her impulse was faster than her reason.
When Eli looked at the hand clutching him, the back of her hand stung. She felt as if her starved heart had been exposed. It felt more wretched than when he had seen her locked in the bathroom.
She hated herself, starving for affection, hastily devouring his kindness. So, she let go of his hand.
“Why did you save me?”
Despite the gratitude she wanted to express, only sharp questions escaped her lips. When his gaze upon her felt cold, she only wanted to confront him more.
Why was he being so casually kind? Did he find it amusing to see a woman clinging to him, begging for death? Was that why he was playing this cruel game?
“When can I die?”
When will I stop being sad?
That’s what Sierra wanted to ask. When would this sorrow ever leave her?
“Do you pity me? Is that why you can’t kill me?”
She tightly clasped her own hands to stop herself from grabbing him. The clasped hands resembled those in prayer.
Please help me overcome my sorrow, and grant me only sorrows I can bear. Please do not let the demon by our side linger, but make him depart.
When the Pastor prayed like that, it sounded like a foolish plea, but she understood that wish. If sorrow is inevitable, one can only hope it stays for but a moment and quickly leaves.
The demon-like man had dug up her buried sorrow, thawed her frozen emotions, and awakened them. So, the more his touch reached her, the more she was consumed by loneliness.
Her whipped legs hadn’t even dared to harbor a desire to run. But because he made her run, now she only wanted to run even farther away.
It was a cruel thing.
“I wish you had killed me sooner. I am selfish. I am a bad person. Every day, I hate and resent someone so deeply.”
The words attaching justifications for why she deserved death transformed into a confession.
“I hate my father for leaving me here. I hate him because no matter how much I prayed, he never came back. So don’t feel sorry for me. I am a bad person.”
Love thy neighbor. God commanded it, but she couldn’t even love her family, let alone her neighbor. She couldn’t even love herself, filled with so much hatred.
Sierra hung her head like a convict desperately awaiting a death sentence. Eli stood expressionless, like an unsympathetic judge, and replied.
“Is it a sin for a child to hate their parents? There are more than enough reasons to hate.
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