At twilight, Cyril once again returned to the place where he had met Elena the day before.He perched atop the tallest branch, silently waiting, his figure blending seamlessly into the gathering gloom.Above him, the sky deepened into dusk, and the silver moonlight quietly spilled over the forest like liquid silk.
Still, he did not see that familiar figure.
Cyril exhaled slowly, unsure whether it was disappointment or relief that loosened the tightness in his chest.
And then—
"Hey, Cyril!"
A familiar, bright voice called out.
He stiffened and looked up sharply. There she was — Elena — running toward him, breathless, her hair streaming behind her, her skirt billowing like a flame.
He emerged silently from the shadows and stepped toward her.
"I knew you'd be here," she said with a radiant smile, completely unafraid as she closed the distance between them. Her eyes were full of trust, full of pure joy. "Since you saved me yesterday, I brought you a thank-you gift!"
She shook the paper bag in her hand. Inside were a few pieces of honeyed nut candy.
"I don't know if you'll like them, but I love them," she said, unwrapping one and popping it into her mouth before offering one to him.
Cyril lowered his gaze, staring at the piece of candy. His fingertips brushed it lightly, hesitating.
"You're... not afraid of me?" he asked, his voice hoarse, carrying an edge of uncertainty even he had not noticed.
"Afraid of you?" Elena blinked, then let out a soft laugh. "You saved me. Besides — you're really... well, handsome. Like a prince from a storybook."
She tucked her hands behind her back, rocking on the balls of her feet, gazing at him with utter seriousness.
Cyril froze, an unfamiliar flicker of emotion stirring deep within his eyes.
It had been so long since anyone had looked at him like that.
She kept talking, her voice like a bubbling spring that refused to dry up. "Do you live in this forest?"
He gave a small nod, still silent.
"That's perfect!" she exclaimed, her eyes lighting up. "I've always wanted to explore this forest, but my grandma never lets me. I usually just pick flowers at the edge. But since you live here, you must know all the best places! Will you walk with me?"
He opened his mouth, intending to refuse.But before he could speak, Elena naturally slipped her hand through his arm.
"Come on, show me your home!" she said with a playful grin, as if refusal simply wasn't an option.
The light shifted through the trees, casting dappled gold across their path. Their shadows intertwined as they walked.
Elena chattered the whole way, marveling at every flower, every tiny creature, every strange twist of a root or leaf.
"Look at this little white flower—it's adorable! What's it called?" she asked, crouching down.
Cyril answered without thinking, "Silver Bellflower."
"Wow, I love that name," she said, inhaling the faint scent, then turning to beam at him. "It smells so nice!"
He stood quietly, watching her smile — the crescent curve of her eyes, the tiny freckle on her nose, like a star fallen in summer.
At some point, he realized he had begun to walk beside her, matching her light steps.
She knelt down again, watching a line of ants carrying leaves. Resting her chin on her hand, she sighed, "How do they know the way home? They're amazing."
She never ran out of things to say.At first, Cyril had been stiff and wary, but gradually, without even realizing it, he found himself looking where she looked, seeing what she saw.
Whenever she glanced up at him, he would hurriedly look away — afraid to meet her gaze, yet unable to stop sneaking peeks at her.
He could not explain it.Just hearing her voice seemed to dissolve the heavy mist coiled inside him.
Sweeter than blood was the sound of her laughter.Warmer than blood was the innocence shining from her smile.
It was a kind of satisfaction he had never known before — no hunting, no screams, no bloodshed — only her.
They wandered through the woods until night had fully fallen.
"Tonight... was really wonderful," Elena said, tilting her head up to look at him. A faint blush dusted her cheeks from exhaustion, but her smile was soft, like sunlight filtering through leaves. "Can I come find you again tomorrow?"
Cyril hesitated for a moment, then murmured, "Don't come tomorrow... I have to leave."
"Oh..." Disappointment flickered across her face. She kicked at a pebble on the path but quickly looked up again, smiling brightly. "Then the day after tomorrow?"
He looked at her and, after a moment, the corners of his lips curved faintly. "If I come back... the day after tomorrow."
"Promise!" she said, holding out her pinky finger.
He stared for a beat, then slowly, stiffly, extended his own finger to hook hers.
"Pinky promise," she said solemnly. "Cross your heart and hope to die — no take-backs!"
Satisfied, she patted his hand and took a step back. "I'll see you soon, Cyril!"
She skipped away toward the edge of the forest, turning every few steps to wave at him.
Cyril remained rooted where he stood, watching her figure grow smaller against the fading light.
The breeze still carried the faint scent of roses from her skin. He closed his eyes and breathed it in deeply.
Could they really be... friends?
The thought brought a bitter smile to his lips. His fingers brushed the crystal pendant resting against his chest.
If Elena knew what he truly was...What would she think of him?
The very idea made his body shudder.Even imagining it filled him with fear.
No—She must never find out.