To Love A Villain

Chapter 228: The Eyes Of Others

>>Pen (14 years old)

The dreams came more often now, slipping into my sleep like a shadow that refused to stay away.

When they first started, it was once every few months—a strange, distant occurrence that I could easily shake off. But now, they felt almost like a haunting, recurring every twenty days, maybe less. And every time they came, they brought with them a throbbing headache, a deep, pulsing ache that made it hard to sleep.

And then I would see as though it was myself moving around, even though I knew it wasn’t me.

I was always in someone else’s skin—feeling, moving, and seeing through her eyes. This time was no different. The dream started with a rush of cold air and the crunch of leaves beneath my feet. I stumbled forward, my body heavy, like every step took every bit of strength I had. The dense forest pressed in around me, the towering trees so thick that not even a sliver of daylight managed to break through.

The woman—I—was hurt. I could feel the burn in her lungs, the way her legs trembled with exhaustion. She was stumbling, her breathing ragged, her heart pounding like a drum in her chest. Every step was a struggle, her feet dragging through the thick undergrowth. Branches scratched her arms and legs, leaving red lines in their wake. She didn’t care. She pushed on, her hand clutching her side where there was a sharp pain, as if she had been running for too long or had fallen from somewhere high.

And then, through the dense tangle of trees and shadows, she saw it. I saw it.

A white dragon.

I felt her breath hitch, a mix of fear and awe flooding through her veins. It was massive, larger than any creature I could have ever imagined. Its scales were a dull, ancient white, marred with dirt and grime from the forest floor, and yet they seemed to shimmer faintly with a strange, ethereal light, like the last remnants of something sacred.

It lay sprawled on the ground, its great body curled in on itself as if shielding something precious. But what caught my breath—the woman’s breath—was the blood.

The dragon was bleeding. Deep red blood seeped from a massive gash in its torso, staining the earth beneath it. The wound looked fresh and terrible, a deep, jagged tear that pulsed with every faint breath the dragon took. Its eyes were closed, and its body barely moved—only the slightest rise and fall of its chest gave any sign that it was still alive.

I could feel the woman’s heart pounding even harder now, a mix of terror and a strange, inexplicable pull. She took a cautious step closer, her feet crunching softly on the leaves. The forest around them was silent—too silent, as if the very world was holding its breath.

The closer she got, the more details became clear. The dragon’s scales were cracked in places, and its massive wings, now folded tightly against its body, were torn and tattered. It must have fought something—or someone.

I could feel her legs trembling as she took another step, and suddenly, the dragon’s eyelids fluttered. My heart—her heart—leapt into my throat. The dragon’s eyes were still closed, but there was a subtle shift, a tiny flicker of life. It was still there, still fighting.

There was this desperation inside of me.

I needed to get closer to the dragon.

She reached out with a trembling hand, as if she could touch the dragon’s rough, blood-slick scales from where she stood. She felt drawn to it, like some invisible thread was pulling her closer. The dragon’s breathing was shallow, each exhale a soft, wheezing sound that sent a shiver down her spine.

Right then, the dragon opened its eyes. A sharp glare pierced me and all my senses blacked out.

***

I woke up with a gasp.

Sweat running down the back of my neck, my throat dry.

I closed my mouth and gulped.

Why do I keep seeing this? It’s the same thing over and over again. When that dragon opens his eyes, I wake up.

What’s the point of this dream?

I placed my hand on my forehead, it was still throbbing

There’s this voice though.

This angry voice I hear.

"You’re going to pay for it."

I got off the bed and felt this strange sort of anger inside of me

I shook my head.

What is this?

I feel this hatred whenever I dream of that white dragon

I looked down

But I haven’t told anyone about it.

***

>>Val (15 Years Old)

The night of the falling sky was here and there was going to be a festival in the city.

Aunt and Uncle decided that we all should go and so we got out early to make it to the city on time. We had to show our identification passes at the city gate, then we were allowed in.

The city was alive with excitement. Lanterns of every color hung between the streets, swaying gently with the cool evening breeze. The festival to view the meteor shower was in full swing, and the crowds were buzzing with energy. The night sky was beginning to clear up, revealing patches of deep indigo, with stars twinkling like tiny diamonds. I walked beside Pen, feeling the hum of the city all around us.

Pen’s parents had left us some time ago, deciding to enjoy their own little date away from the bustling crowds. That left just the two of us, weaving through the streets lined with stalls. I was more than okay with that. It wasn’t often that we got to come to the city, and even less often that it was just the two of us like this.

"Look, Val!" Pen called out, her eyes wide with excitement as she pointed to a nearby stall selling candied fruits. Her enthusiasm was contagious, and I found myself grinning.

"You want one?" I asked, already reaching for my pouch of coins. She nodded, and we approached the stall. The vendor, an elderly man with a kind face, handed over two sticks of the colorful, glossy fruits.

Pen took hers with a bright smile that made my heart skip a beat.

She bit into the candied fruit, her eyes lighting up. "It’s so sweet! You have to try it, Val."

I took a bite, more focused on the way her face lit up than on the taste.

It’s always so nice to see her happy.

We continued moving from stall to stall, laughing and joking. Pen’s happiness was like a warm light that made everything else fade away. She was always like that—so bright, so full of life. Just being around her felt like being part of something special.

But then, as we wandered further, I started to notice it.

Other boys around our age were glancing Pen’s way. At first, I thought it was just my imagination, but the longer we strolled, the more obvious it became.

I could see them—groups of boys, leaning against stalls or pretending to browse, their eyes following Pen as we passed by.

....

I didn’t like that

I turned to look at Pen. Ever since she’s gotten more mature, males are always looking at her.

I pursed my lips

One of them, a boy with tousled brown hair, nudged his friend and pointed subtly in Pen’s direction. I saw his lips move in a whisper, and his friend chuckled. Another boy, taller and with a confident grin, kept glancing over, like he was working up the nerve to come over and say something. A couple of others tried to catch Pen’s attention, offering bright smiles and waves.

I felt a strange twist in my chest, something unfamiliar but unmistakably sharp. My hand clenched around the stick of candied fruit, and I felt my smile waver. What was this feeling? I’d never felt this way before—this sudden, irrational urge to shield her from everyone’s eyes.

I glanced at Pen, who was blissfully unaware, her attention caught by a stall selling small, carved wooden animals. She was chatting with the vendor, her voice cheerful and soft. I could see why they were staring. She’d grown even prettier, her face catching the soft glow of the lanterns, her eyes sparkling with excitement. She had always been beautiful to me, but now it seemed like everyone else was noticing it too.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm the unease building in me. This was ridiculous. They were just looking, right? But then another boy, one with a red scarf around his neck, seemed to gather his courage and started to approach her.

I felt my heart pound in my chest, my body moving before I could even think. I stepped closer to Pen, closing the gap between us, and subtly placed myself between her and the boy with the scarf. I could see his expression falter, a flicker of surprise crossing his face as he met my eyes. I didn’t glare, but I didn’t look away either. He hesitated, then turned back, muttering something to his friends, who all laughed as they watched.

Pen looked up at me, her eyes curious. "Val, you okay?" She asked, tilting her head slightly.

"Yeah," I replied quickly, trying to keep my voice steady. "Just... making sure you don’t get lost in this crowd."

She chuckled, nudging me with her elbow. "I’m not a little kid, you know. I won’t get lost."

I forced a smile, but my eyes kept darting around, catching the stares and whispers from all directions. I wanted to tell them to stop looking at her like that, to stop thinking they had a chance. But I couldn’t say that.

Not to them, and certainly not to her. What right did I have? It’s not like Pen was my fiance or anything.

Still, I found myself walking a little closer to her, standing a little taller, feeling this fierce need to stay close.

Maybe it was selfish, but I wanted to be the only one by her side tonight. The only one who got to see her smile like this, hear her laugh, and share in the excitement of the festival.

And yet, beneath that protective feeling, there was a flicker of fear.

What if someone did manage to catch her attention? What if she looked at one of those boys the way I looked at her? I shook my head, trying to push the thought away, but it lingered, gnawing at the edges of my mind.

The festival was meant to be a celebration, but I couldn’t help feeling like I was in the middle of a battle I hadn’t been prepared for—a battle I was scared to lose.

I liked Pen too much