Nothing for Nothing
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
He gave her a brief apology and withdrew his hand. But the pain Owen had inflicted had cleared the tangled clouds from Sylvia’s head, so she thought the apology was pointless.
He couldn’t lie to her.
It felt as though one layer of the shield wrapped around her had been peeled away, but at the same time, she had to admit there was something oddly light about it now.
“It’s fine. It was my fault I got hurt in the first place.”
When she said that, Owen didn’t bother to disagree. Instead, as if that settled the matter, he nuzzled her again with intimate familiarity and carefully parted his lips to take her in. Softly, as though she were a piece of candy, he sucked at her lips, rolled them between his, and murmured, “Will you stick your tongue out for me?”
With their mouths pressed together like this, every hesitation she had about opening her lips or not was laid bare, and Owen’s gaze grew more and more…… she couldn’t quite explain it, only that it became more and more sticky, more and more cloying. If his eyes at first had been champagne filled with gold dust, now they had thickened to the point where you couldn’t even stir them with a finger.
Her lower belly was growing hotter and hotter. This time she had ended up perched awkwardly in his lap, and just as she began worrying whether he could feel the heat between her thighs, she remembered what he had said—that nothing at all could be hidden from him—and Sylvia simply sat still.
As if welcoming the invitation, Owen slid a hand under the hem of her skirt and touched her legs. He stroked her calves gently, then dragged his nails lightly over her thighs hidden beneath the thin silk drawers. When she jerked in surprise, trembling faintly with her lips still on his, he swept his hand upward with a heavier touch and this time squeezed her bottom.
The heat of his hand seeped through the thin fabric. Sylvia could hardly believe she was doing this in someone else’s garden. And yet, it also felt thrilling for a split second, as if she were resisting her father’s wishes in the most effective way possible.
“L-Let’s stop.”
She shifted her hips as she spoke.
“I don’t think this is going to work. Not like this. Like you said, I can’t deny that it feels good right now, but…….”
If she couldn’t deny it, then why stop? He tilted his head slightly, as though he truly didn’t understand. Sylvia slipped her hands from around the back of his neck and shook her head.
“I’d just be using you. I don’t want that.”
“Using me?”
“Yes. I used you the first time we slept together, too. It’s the same now.”
But all he did was let out a low, amused laugh, as though moved by her consideration and kindness.
“You can use me however you want. You told me yourself—I’m kind.”
“That’s not kind. That’s just having no backbone.”
“Whatever you say.”
“You’re doing this because you want to sleep with me?”
As if asking for another kiss, he left a quick butterfly-light peck on her lips.
“Yeah.”
“Why me, though? There are other women, aren’t there?”
She had deliberately chosen a provocative word to test him, but he admitted it without the slightest embarrassment. And it was Sylvia who fell even deeper into confusion at that answer.
“Because I like you.”
“If you like me, then even more reason this shouldn’t be…….”
“Sylvia.”
He called her name quietly. There was something in his tone that sounded like she was about to be scolded, and Sylvia flinched.
“Not everyone turns liking someone into something as grand as you do.”
Owen pointed at her past as casually as if it were nothing at all. Sylvia clamped her mouth shut as though he had thrown cold water over her. The more he spoke, the more something in her ached.
“A ten-year unrequited love, wanting to be the only person that man had, and all the rest of it. Not every feeling becomes complete like that. Some things are just good, and curious, and make you want to kiss someone, and then quietly fade away. Don’t think about it so much. You don’t have to take care of me; I’ll get myself out of this just fine. You just need to think about yourself and use me if you want to. Is that really so hard?”
“Hard?”
It wasn’t hard. But to Sylvia, it felt like something from a completely different world—something too light, too meaningless. What was the point of doing something like that? But as she asked herself the question inwardly, she realized the answer even without Owen saying a word.
That was the point of it. Because it meant nothing, it was all the more beautiful. Sylvia bit down on her lip, chewed on it restlessly, and then blurted out, “I’m going.”
She felt she ought to. Owen didn’t try to stop her as firmly as before. He only watched her with unreadable eyes as she braced herself on his chest, stood up, and straightened her skirt.
* * *
To be perfectly honest, Sylvia didn’t dislike Owen.
As he had said, there was definitely a part of her that wanted to fly away into that weightless world of impulse, where nothing carried any burden at all. But the problem was that she was afraid if she got swept up in that place, she might never find her way back to where she had been.
Owen would surely find his way back. Just as he had said—telling her to use him, swearing that he would get himself out without her taking care of him. But after Owen disappeared like that, what would become of her?
Even after that, she was certain she would keep stumbling. Like a feather that had once settled in someone’s body before breaking free, she felt as though she would drift forever—rising, sinking, rising again, endlessly repeating the same motion.
So Sylvia refused Owen’s gentle request for her own sake. There was no reason to feel sorry for him. After all, he hadn’t handed her his heart; he had simply offered up a piece of himself to someone who looked thirsty, the way one would offer water. If that person was truly thirsty, they would take it and swallow it down. If not, then refusing was the right thing to do.
“Yes. This is right.”
She told herself her choice was mature, and that it was a decision made for her own sake.
But the problem was that the bond between Owen and Sylvia was not something that could be cut cleanly like that. Sylvia rejected Owen’s request and, naturally, kept her distance from him a little. Yet this time, even though they had only kissed, the mana sharing seemed to have grown worse, and now she was randomly sharing not only his emotions but even his vision.
His hand drumming lazily on the table while he ate with other people, looking bored. His still-red wounds as he changed bandages, the exposed lines of his abdomen and body. His low, easy laugh.
At first she thought she must be dreaming because she had been thinking about him too much. But before long, when the things she saw through his eyes began appearing before her own as well whenever they were in the same place, she had no choice but to admit it.
She had gotten herself caught up in a much bigger problem.
In the end, Sylvia had no choice but to swallow her resolve to keep her distance from Owen and go looking for him herself.
Owen was in the middle of a meal when he spotted Sylvia hiding beside a pillar, frantically waving at him. He gave a soft chuckle and strolled over as though he were granting her a favor.
“What is it?”
“What do you mean, what is it?”
His calm, unruffled attitude left Sylvia utterly flustered. What did he mean, what was it? Had he not seen the state of her life these past days? Sylvia had spent most of her time lying in bed because she had been so worried about exposing anything at all.
“Aren’t you bothered at all?”
“Of course I’m bothered. I got my heart confessed to and then rejected.”
“Your heart? When have you ever said anything so cringey…… no, that’s not what I mean.”
“Then what do you mean?”
He blinked at her with such innocent confusion that Sylvia only sank deeper into disarray. She still hadn’t realized the mischief Owen wore so lightly around himself. He folded his arms and leaned one shoulder against the pillar where she was hiding, his posture crooked and casual.
“But I’m curious, so I’ve got to ask—why are you washing with your eyes covered? Do you perhaps enjoy that sort of thing?”
Owen’s voice dropped into a whisper. The lewdness in his words brushed against her ear, and Sylvia jerked up in shock.
“So it was true, it was true! You could see that too!”
When had he decided to stop pretending? He only shrugged with complete composure, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Sylvia’s face went red as she shoved at him. Of course, his body didn’t budge even a little, so it ended up looking almost like she was affectionately stroking his arm.
“But why are you acting like this isn’t a big deal?”
“Well, because it won’t last forever. It’ll all disappear once time passes anyway.”
“Exactly—that’s the problem. There’s no such thing as privacy at all.”
“I mean, neither of us really has much of that to begin with, so maybe it’s not worth worrying about.”
It looked as though he had decided to become godlike in his indulgence toward everything in the world. And yet he was the one with more secrets than anyone, the one who behaved most deceptively of all. Sylvia added petulantly, “What are you talking about? I have privacy too.”
“You don’t have any friends or lovers.”
“I do, actually.”
“Who besides Heston?”
“Rosaline, and…….”
“She’s Heston’s younger sister.”
He cut her off neatly before she could finish. Sylvia let out only a breath of exasperation. But since no other names came to mind, she changed the subject.
“There are family matters too, and anyway, no. We need to figure out a solution.”
“Family matters?”
“You have those too, don’t you? The thing about Count Bronovich—when you were locked up in prison back then, you didn’t even let a word slip to me. If you could get out of there like that, why didn’t you say so from the start? Then I wouldn’t have had to infiltrate that place in such a dangerous way.”
---