23 - The Time of the Blind Beast (15+ Revised Edition)
Chapter 23
He couldn't believe Rose's words at all. He wondered if she was just lying, pretending to be blind. This itching couldn't be explained by anything other than insects, but Rose insisted there were no insects anywhere, trying to convince him.
It was the moment he urgently pushed Rose away, overwhelmed by the itching that drove him mad. Suddenly, the sensation at his fingertips felt strange. His blunt fingernails, which had left no mark on his own tough skin, seemed to dig easily into Rose's soft flesh, perhaps due to the excessive force.
"I'll clean you up. You'll feel better soon."
He distinctly felt a scraping sensation, but since Rose showed no reaction, he had no way of knowing. It wasn't the first time, either.
She wrapped cloth around each of his fingers and tied them, preventing him from scratching himself carelessly. The entire process was remarkably calm. She had developed a method.
"If there were really maggots, I'd be too scared to touch you, Major."
Rose, returning with a towel soaked in cold water, began to wipe his body. This was a routine they repeated, anywhere from a few times to over a dozen times a day. Her gentle, soothing touch moved over him with practiced ease. The pruritus, which had made him want to tear his skin to shreds, slowly began to subside.
Rose no longer seemed flustered by the sight of a naked man before her. At first, she had shown embarrassment, covering his legs with the towel, but that too was brief. Dealing with the sudden onslaught of withdrawal symptoms, starting with hypothermia, she had soon come to accept it.
In this situation, shame was a luxury.
Ezekiel was similar. During their struggles, accidental touches to various parts of Rose's body were inevitable. Moreover, they were often both naked.
As the withdrawal symptoms disrupted his sensory system, the feel of coarse fabric registered as pain, leading Ezekiel to live almost naked. Rose, who was often in close contact with him, also found herself unable to wear clothes. To the eyes of those unaware of their circumstances, it would appear as a primitive scene between a man and a woman.
Furthermore, there were many nights he slept holding Rose, who was naked, due to his fluctuating fever.
Rose's warmth, pleasantly cool and perfectly soft, was just right for warming him on nights he suffered from hypothermia, and now, when his fever spiked frequently, it acted as a fever reducer, cooling his body. After she soothed his raging fever, he could breathe more easily. It was a sliver of peace brought by her tenderness.
"Are you alright now?"
As if by magic, the insects disappeared.
Even then, Rose remained busy. Without a moment's rest, her hands applied cold ointment to the torn wounds. Ezekiel gently held her hand as she spread the ointment.
"It's fine. Put that on yourself."
His body was already covered in countless scars from his service. A few more superficial wounds wouldn't be noticeable. But Rose was different. Even by touch, her skin was delicate and soft. She was the one who should worry about scarring.
"I'm fine. I'm not hurt."
As always, Rose brushed it off with the same words.
Ezekiel remained silent for a while, then suddenly gripped her arm.
"Major?"
Ignoring Rose's startled reaction, he pressed down on three or four spots. At a certain point, Rose finally let out a short gasp. It was a different reaction than when he pressed on healthy skin.
This was it. He had found it.
Ezekiel pulled the arm where Rose had reacted. Rose collapsed into his embrace. He immediately brought his lips to Rose's arm.
He couldn't distinguish it precisely by scent alone. The smell of his own blood, shed from self-harm, lingered in the air. But taste was different. Rose, flustered, tried to pull away, but he held her arm tightly, his lips sliding along her skin as he slowly explored her body.
Rose's captured arm trembled slightly. Even trying not to entertain improper thoughts, she flinched at the sight of the man's slightly lowered gaze and the hint of his red tongue peeking through his lips. It was hot, moist, and ticklish. She had never experienced such a sensation before. It was unfamiliar and strange.
"Stay still."
As Ezekiel continued to probe Rose, who was squirming to escape, he discovered a slightly swollen area. He licked the skin with his tongue. As expected, he tasted the salty flavor of blood.
"You say you're not hurt."
"......"
"Treat yourself first."
He remembered the spot and, fumbling on the floor, found an external ointment and placed it in Rose's hand. Rose gazed down at the ointment. For some reason, a corner of her heart fluttered.
* * *
Opium was insidious. Without warning, the fever surged again.
After a few days of apparent improvement, it would suddenly worsen, making it impossible to get a grip.
Once a blessing from an angel, it was now a curse from the devil. Rose was at a loss. Even watching from the side, she was constantly astonished, let alone Ezekiel, who was directly experiencing the drug's withdrawal symptoms. The transformation for him must have been far more extreme.
A headache that felt like his skull was being squeezed, stomach pains that felt like his insides were being torn apart, and on top of it all, his body temperature rose uncontrollably.
"It was definitely calming down... I think we should call a doctor from outside right away."
"And if we do?"
Strangely, the worse his symptoms became, the more Ezekiel's fighting spirit ignited. He was determined not to yield, unwilling to let the patience he had endured go to waste. His resolve was sharp and fierce.
Faced with Ezekiel's strong refusal, Rose bit her lip. After all, they couldn't use painkillers. Even if they called a doctor, there wasn't much they could do.
"Then shall I bring Madam Serva?"
She suggested again, thinking it might be more comforting if the nanny who raised him in his childhood looked after him, but Ezekiel refused this as well.
"What good would Serva do when she can barely take care of herself?"
"But..."
"That's enough. Just stay by my side."
Ezekiel cut her off decisively and closed his eyes.
In the end, their only recourse was folk remedies. Rose gave him water infused with willow bark, known for its fever-reducing properties, and made lukewarm compresses to wipe his body frequently.
Ezekiel placed his hand over Rose's, which was checking his temperature on his forehead. His ragged breathing began to subside. She silently cooled his fever with her own hand.
He sank into silence. Darkness surged. It felt like sinking into deep water.
Blink.
His consciousness flickered.
Blink.
He was tired.
Blink.
The world of dreams visited him for a moment.
Ezekiel blinked. The vision before him brightened hazily. He immediately sensed it.
It was a dream.
Nevertheless, the liberation of his lost senses blooming was welcome. Even if it was a futile lie that would vanish upon waking, for the time he was free from the dark prison, the suffocating confinement that bound reality disappeared.
However, his vision flickered like heat haze, making it impossible to discern shapes properly.
Since it was a dream anyway, he wished he could see more clearly, at least for this moment.
Despite this, his ingrained habits diligently assessed his surroundings. He was lying with someone's thigh as a pillow. It felt just like his childhood. He recalled the distant past when he used to lie on his nanny's lap and act spoiled.
But it wasn't Serva.
Then who was this woman?
He tried to lift his head, but his entire body felt heavy, as if he were being sleep-paralyzed, and he couldn't move as he wished.
As he slowly turned his head, which had been bent at an awkward angle, the woman's long, flowing hair tickled the bridge of his nose.
It was red hair, beautiful, like the color of the sunset.
It was strange. Despite his vision being hazy, the woman's hair had a distinct red hue. It was vividly striking, drawing his gaze.
It was a splendor like a rose.
He persistently turned his head, following the cascade of hair. His field of vision gradually widened. Passing the gently swaying strands of hair, he saw the woman's upper body. Her full breasts rose and fell subtly with her breath.
He was momentarily captivated by the soft curve. But Ezekiel quickly urged himself on.
What he wanted to know immediately was the woman's face.
He advanced, taking in the sight of his prominent collarbones and slender shoulders.
Finally, the woman's face was close. As he moved his head a little more, reaching the edge of her chin, which was barely visible,
His vision flickered.
