To Love A Villain

Chapter 215: Conversation In The Cold

>>Enya

The snow had fallen gently in the night, blanketing the old courtyard in white.

It was a crisp morning—so cold it stung the tips of my ears as I stepped out. I hadn’t meant to walk this far, but my thoughts had been heavy again. Sleep had been fleeting. The same worries circled over and over, eating at me like frostbite.

The tree stood like a sentinel in the middle of the field. Bare of leaves, branches coated in ice. And beneath it, a figure crouched in the snow.

My breath caught.

Ahin.

He hadn’t noticed me yet. His back was turned, cloak trailing in the snow, shirt torn at the edge. He was murmuring something in a low voice, barely audible. I stepped closer—quietly, like I didn’t want to disturb something sacred.

That’s when I saw what he was doing.

A small, trembling creature—no larger than a squirrel—was curled up at the base of the tree. Its fur was wet and matted, likely half-frozen. Ahin had stripped a piece of fabric from his already thin shirt and was carefully, so gently, wrapping it around the tiny body. His fingers moved with the kind of care you rarely saw in this world. Delicate, like each movement mattered.

I stopped in my tracks, heart tightening.

He was so sweet.

Not loudly. Not for show. Not because someone told him to be. It was just who he was.

And God help me, it made my heart beat faster.

Something about that quiet goodness... that unwavering gentleness... it rooted deep into my chest and didn’t let go.

Even after everything—the wounds, the fever, the way he’d nearly died for me—Ahin still found it in himself to kneel in the snow for a helpless little animal, bare skin pressed to frost, whispering comfort with a voice still not fully healed.

I should have spoken. Called out. Told him he’d get sick again, that he shouldn’t be out here like this.

But I couldn’t.

Because the moment I opened my mouth, a different ache rose in my throat.

I was going to have to let him go.

It hit me like a blade between the ribs. Every time I thought about this, I felt my heart crumble. It was something I just couldn’t come to accept.

I had promised him. I had told him I would find a way to get him out of this cursed place—and I would. I had to. But every day I delayed, every time I failed to act fast enough...

He almost died.

And Rika... sweet, smiling Rika... she would’ve lost her brother.

My chest clenched.

The miasma was thickening. We could see it now—It clung to the trees in the wilds like shadowy vines, tainting the snow. The saint was supposed to keep it at bay. But she was failing. Last I heard, there was a rumor that she had fainted and still hadn’t woken up.

Every path that led outside was beginning to rot shut.

If we didn’t leave soon, the exits would be blocked. The North would fall like the rest. We’d be trapped.

And still...

Still, I didn’t want to let Ahin go. And like before. I was stalling again.

I knew I was in the wrong.

But I also knew I was quite selfish. I didn’t want to let him go. And I couldn’t go with him. I couldn’t leave Einar behind.

I finally stepped forward.

He turned his head at the sound of my boots crunching snow. His hair, longer now, windswept against the white sky. His lips parted in a soft, surprised smile.

"I thought you were still resting," he said.

"I could say the same to you," I answered, crouching beside him.

The little animal stirred under the fabric. I could feel its heartbeat, rapid and fragile. It looked like a little fox.

"I couldn’t leave it there," he murmured. "It was shaking too much."

"I know," I said quietly, watching his profile.

Of course he couldn’t. That’s just who he was.

He looked at me then, the wind brushing his cheek, eyes bright despite the cold. "You look sad."

I opened my mouth. Closed it.

How could I say everything?

That I was terrified. That I’d failed him. That I didn’t want him to leave because I was already in too deep.

Instead, I offered a faint smile. "I’m just tired."

"Then lean on me," he said, simply.

Just four words.

But they were enough.

My heart missed a beat.

For a moment, it felt like the entire world went silent—only the wind rustling through the bare branches of the tree, the gentle rise and fall of his breath, and the sound of my own pulse thudding in my ears.

’Lean on me.’

I swallowed, trying to laugh it off, my voice quieter than I intended. "You don’t have to say that."

He tilted his head, confused. "Why?"

"Because... because you’re only saying it as my guard."

The words slipped out before I realized how bitter they sounded. I hadn’t meant them like that. Not truly. But they lingered in the air between us—raw, vulnerable, unpolished.

Ahin looked at me.

Really looked.

Then, with the softest voice, he asked, "And... what if I said it not as your guard, but as a man?"

!!!

I stared at him. My eyes going wide at his reply

The wind caught my hair, swept it gently across my face, but I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe.

"What...?" I whispered, blinking, stunned. "What do you mean by that?"

My face burned. My fingers curled in the fabric of my sleeve. The cold didn’t touch me anymore; all I felt was the heat rising rapidly beneath my skin, settling in my throat, in my chest, in the space between us where something unspoken had just broken through.

But Ahin just smiled. Softly. Sadly.

He turned away, brushing a loose lock of brown hair behind his ear.

"I shouldn’t have said anything," he murmured. "In the end... I’m nothing more than your guard."

And with that, he turned to leave.

The little creature he’d wrapped in cloth was bundled gently in his arms. He didn’t look back at me, didn’t say another word. Just walked toward the edge of the snowy path,The snow crunched beneath his boots as he walked away.

I stared after him, breath caught somewhere between my ribs and my throat. The cold nipped at my fingers, but it was nothing compared to the ache blooming in my chest.

He was leaving again—just like that. Like he always did. Quietly. Gently. Without expecting anything in return.

But I couldn’t let him go this time.

"Ahin!" I called out, my voice breaking across the stillness.

He froze mid-step.

I ran after him, boots slipping slightly in the snow. My hand reached forward—desperate, trembling—and I grabbed the back of his coat.

He turned, surprised.

"Wait," I said, breathless.

The wind tousled his hair. There was snow on his shoulder, caught in the fabric he hadn’t dusted off. He looked down at me, his eyes wide, almost vulnerable.

"What if..." I said, struggling to find my words. "What if I don’t think of you as a guard?"

His eyes widened a little, lips parting.

Silence stretched.

And then—

"Then," he said slowly, "I would like to be something more than just a man to you."

My heart jolted.

It was terrifying, the way those words settled in the hollow of my chest and bloomed. Soft. Warm. Certain.

Something more.

I swallowed, my mouth dry. "So... do you...?"

Ahin tilted his head. "Do I...?" His eyes looked into mine, searching for something.

"Do you like me?" I forced the words out. "As a woman?"

His lips curved into a faint smile, but his eyes were serious. "Yes," he said. "I have for a while now."

That was all it took.

I surged forward, heart pounding in my throat. My hands grabbed his collar before I could stop myself—before I could question it—and I pulled him down, closing the distance between us.

Our lips met—quiet, trembling, sure.

The kiss wasn’t perfect. It was cold, rushed, our breaths misting between us. But the warmth that poured into me made everything else disappear—the snow, the sky, even my own fears.

He didn’t pull away.

Instead, he cupped the side of my face, thumb brushing the curve of my cheek as he deepened the kiss ever so gently, like I was something fragile he couldn’t quite believe he was allowed to hold.

When we parted, our foreheads pressed together, breaths mingling.

"My Lady," He still held the small fox with one arm

"Enya-" I interrupted him as I stared at his lips, "Call me Enya,"

But before he could actually do that I kissed him again. Making both of us fall onto the snow as we got wrapped up in the heat of the moment that lasted quite a while.

I could never have guessed he would become someone this dearly beloved to me.