The Glowing Blue Lake, Part 2
In the cramped, dark space, the two of them could clearly feel each other's breath. Monia, who was enjoying the sensation of Chester's presence more vividly than usual, noticed that unlike before, he grew tense and stiffened whenever she drew close. It thrilled her. She could feel that Chester—the man she loved—no longer saw her merely as a helpless charge to protect, but as a woman.
His breath, hitched in tension. His trembling body. His eyes, wavering as if unsure where to look, yet repeatedly darting back to steal clear glances at her chest and face. If some stranger had looked at her like that, she would have found it repulsive. But receiving such a gaze from the man she loved filled her with pure joy. He was so endearing. She wanted him to look at her more. She wanted him to feel affection and desire for her.
Back when she was active in high society, there was one thing Monia could never comprehend: the women who flirted shamelessly, acting coy to seduce men who were neither their fiancés nor had any claim to them. Having been strictly educated by the Duke, Monia had found such behavior vulgar and self-deprecating. But now, she understood. Of course, she still couldn't understand doing it with a complete stranger.
The thought of any other man looking at her with eyes full of lust made her skin crawl. But simply replacing that man with Chester changed everything. She wanted him to look at her. She wanted him to be drawn to her. She wanted him to be captivated by her. Not just his eyes, but his heart, and even the deepest desires of his soul—she wanted them all focused on her. Lost in these thoughts, Monia unconsciously edged a little closer to Chester. Now, at a breath's distance, their gazes locked and intertwined.
"..." His throat felt parched. When he swallowed the dry lump in his throat, Chester realized for the first time just how loud a simple swallow could sound. How on earth was he supposed to react to this lovely woman who had drawn so close to him? Quite apart from having lived a life largely devoid of romance, Chester had never felt the presence of the opposite sex so vividly.
Even if he closed his eyes, Monia's face would surely remain etched in his mind. Her warmth felt as though it would linger forever, and he could sense every part of her, from her unseen fingertips to her toes, with absolute clarity. He fought a sudden, overwhelming urge to reach out and pull her into a crushing embrace, barely restraining himself out of fear that he might hurt her fragile, delicate frame.
The two of them simply stared at each other in the close darkness, doing nothing. Yet, they were undeniably doing something. What was the right word for it? It felt as though, despite doing nothing, they were quietly gazing into each other's hearts and souls. They did nothing but look at each other from inches away, yet they had undoubtedly drawn a step closer. It was a far more active approach than before, when they had merely sensed each other unconsciously and carefully synchronized their paces. That alone was enough to make them happy. And as they lingered in that moment...
*Thud.* Ant, who had finished his swim and slipped back inside the shelter unnoticed, curled up right behind Monia. Nudged by the pup, Monia stumbled forward, closing the remaining distance between her and Chester.
"Ah." "Oh." Though they were suddenly thrust together, neither could utter more than a soft gasp. After all, the lips that should have formed words were now pressed firmly against each other, refusing to move. The young, inexperienced pair, who had been perfectly content with the quiet tension just moments ago, did not pull away from their sudden first kiss. Instead, they remained frozen in that awkward, blushing posture—touching nowhere else but their lips—for a long, breathless moment.
I didn't even do anything, so why am I so exhausted?
Soaking naked in the Glowing Blue Lake, Chester recalled the events of moments ago.
Ah, damn it.
He couldn't get it out of his head. Chester scooped up a handful of lake water and splashed it over his face. He rubbed his face vigorously to wash it, trying to clear his mind and force himself to think of something else.
"Whew. Alright, let's take it easy and check on my physical condition."
How long had he lain perfectly still, resting to make his body heal as quickly as possible? While his body had recovered during that period of absolute inactivity, his unused muscles had begun to atrophy. Ever since they had climbed above the waterfall and begun their exploration in earnest, Chester had felt a distinct sluggishness. It wasn't just his injured leg; his body simply wouldn't move the way he wanted it to.
My senses feel sharper than before, though.
His fear of the bear—the trauma that had kept a part of his mind constantly shrinking in dread—had been resolved, sharpening his senses to a razor's edge. Yet, while his mind had sharpened, his body had grown dull from lack of use during his recovery.
Just how weak have I gotten?
To Chester, the most serious issue was his stamina.
Even with my bad leg, I was so exhausted that I had to let Monia take the lead several times.
When they had crossed to the other side of the river before, they had walked under a blazing sun in a much hotter environment, hacking through the brush with nothing but a wooden stick instead of a machete. Yet, he had covered a far greater distance back then.
Once my leg fully heals, it'll get better, but my stamina has definitely taken a hit.
It wasn't critical yet. His current inability to move for long periods was mostly due to his leg. Once the wound healed, he would be fine. But that didn't mean his loss of stamina could be ignored. If he kept brushing it off, telling himself it was fine and there was no problem, a crisis would eventually catch him off guard. If his physical capacity fell short by even a fraction at a critical moment, who would he have to blame but himself? Chester always wanted to keep his body in peak condition.
Since I haven't moved properly in so long, my skills must have dulled too. Once my leg is fully healed, I'll have to test them one by one.
Currently, Chester had adapted to moving with a disabled leg. Shooting his bow, using his sling—he had calibrated all of his techniques to accommodate his injury. Because of this, once his leg returned to normal, there would be a discrepancy between his muscle memory and his actual physical state.
This is going to be a headache.
But if asked whether he regretted fighting the bear, his answer was a resounding no. The trauma of the bear had been deeply engraved in his soul. Whenever he entered a forest, he had always shrunk back unconsciously, gripped by the fear that a bear might be lurking nearby. Defeating the beast with his own hands had shattered that trauma, banishing the lingering dread from his heart. His mind felt lighter. And with that lighter mind, Chester's already sharp senses had become even more acute. He could now easily catch swimming fish with his bare hands. He could detect dangers by hearing sounds from much further away than before. Of course, if he pushed his injured leg too hard and collapsed into an exhausted sleep, those heightened senses would be completely shut down.
Like how I didn't even notice someone dropping off the Matchlock Lighter last night.
Chester rummaged through the basket he had left on the lakeshore and pulled out the Matchlock Lighter.
"...She said this brand prides itself on durability."
Monia had recognized the tiny brand emblem immediately and even named it, but Chester had forgotten it, deeming it unnecessary information.
"I'm pretty sure the brand name was... An? I think it started with An."
It was Sandros. It didn't even start with an 'A'.
"But is this thing really that durable?"
Chester was examining a detail he had missed earlier, blinded by the sheer joy of finding the lighter in the first place.
"It looks a bit dented."
He inspected a dent that had been hidden beneath his grip. There was a faint, oval-shaped indentation pressed into the metal.
"..."
Staring at the mark, Chester felt a sudden prickle of unease. He brought his own thumb over to the indentation. When he gently pressed his thumb against the dent, it became clear to him: the dent on the Matchlock Lighter looked exactly like a fingerprint, but from a much larger thumb.
"Hmm."
No, there's no way.
Could a human really have a thumb this massive? If someone had a thumb more than twice the size of Chester's—and Chester was already exceptionally tall with large hands—they would have to be a giant straight out of legend. Granted, all the creatures on this island above the waterfall were oversized, but...
It would be interesting if someone adapted to the island and turned into a giant, though.
Muttering to himself, Chester quietly closed his eyes.
As he closed his eyes, the physical sensations he had been trying to ignore rushed back with vivid clarity. The beautiful, glowing blue water of the lake. The sensation of that water seeping into his wounds, triggering a terrible mixture of pain and itching. It was the feeling of his body rapidly healing. While Chester bathed in the sensation of recovery, a pair of eyes watched him from afar. The young Native quietly observed Chester. Then, he turned his gaze toward the shelter Chester and Monia had built. After staring at it for a long moment, the young Native began gathering materials from his surroundings, attempting to build a shelter of his own just like theirs.