At his words, Helena groaned as if in complaint. To her, the thing she could barely bear to look at, he referred to merely as a bug.

He then casually disposed of it as if swatting away a pesky fly and threw it out the window.

She couldn’t see due to not daring to look, but from the sound, it seemed he had used a knife to handle it.

Helena managed to regain her senses only when she heard his low laughter. She was almost strangling him with the intensity of her embrace.

‘How did I end up in such a state?’ she thought, wishing she could be thrown down.

“… Put me down.”

As Helena slowly loosened the grip of her arms, Ian adjusted his posture but did not put her down.

“I thought you liked being held like this.”

“Who likes something like this?”

“Well… I wish you did.”

His voice softly added, ‘I wish you would throw tantrums and lean on me even for a little pain or shock.’ Helena didn’t respond but glared at him and urged him again. Of course, he remained unmoved.

Left with no other choice, as a final warning, she pinched his neck. It was so firm that she had to apply a lot of strength in her fingers.

Finally, Ian bent over to allow Helena to stand on the ground. He also considerately brought her slippers to her feet.

Slipping her feet into the fluffy slippers, Helena realized her clothes were a bit wet. She looked up to see a man’s upper body, not fully clothed, blatantly exposed before her.
Taut muscles, sculpted like well-woven fibers, glistened with droplets of water that traced along his contours. His pants, hastily put on, hung precariously on his hips.

“Put on your clothes properly.”

Helena turned her back swiftly. Behind her, sounds of Ian moving and opening a cupboard filled the room.

As she sat on the bed, Ian, toweling his hair, said, “I’ve given my clothes to the innkeeper for laundry. They should bring them soon, so I must remain like this for now. Is that alright?”

“… It doesn’t matter.”

“Then why do you turn your back to me?”

The bed dipped slightly at the edge. Helena didn’t need to look to feel his large presence and catch the scent of his fresh shower.

The sound of the towel rubbing against his hair continued. Still showing her back, Helena responded, “Because I’m embarrassed. Please stop acting so casually.”

“What is embarrassing?”

Was he truly ignorant or pretending not to know?

Suppressing her annoyance, Helena let out a self-deprecating voice, “It’s just ridiculous. To think that I almost died in the sea without a care, yet I freak out over a bug.”

Ian paused his movements. After a moment of thought, he spoke in an amused tone, “If that’s ridiculous, I know someone even more so. One of my subordinates is a coward who freaks out even if an ant bites his toe. It’s like he’s been struck by lightning.”

Helena almost laughed without realizing it. But the breath she was about to release froze, and she turned rigid.

Her reflection in the closed window showed her face, lips almost curling into a smile before falling flat again.

As if she shouldn’t smile, as if the muscles around her mouth were severed, her expression faded back into nothingness.

“…”

The brief moment of levity vanished, leaving a heavy silence in the room.

Ian waited patiently, a calming presence.

Helena, facing her reflection, finally let out her pent-up breath.

“… You might not understand me. It’s okay to think I’m crazy. But… I don’t even understand myself.”

She slumped her head, creasing the tightly stretched bedsheet, her fists clenched as if strangling someone.

“I try to live desperately, but then the next day, I want to disappear without a trace. With you, it’s bearable, but the moment I turn away, I feel utterly alone in the world.”

She spoke as if squeezing pus from a wound.

“Nothing goes my way, not even my emotions. Why do I let a mere dream control me even in my sleep?”

Ian listened silently to her confession. Helena rubbed her heated eyes, seemingly always on the verge of tears around this man. It was always bothersome and infuriating.

Sensing her turmoil, familiar warmth enveloped the hand that gripped the sheet.

“Breathing beings are all like that. We are not gods. Being unswayed doesn’t make us strong.”

“… Then what makes a person strong?”
Helena finally turned to face him. Between his damp locks, his gaze was as warm as the heat covering her left hand.

“I think a strong person is one who rises again as much as they are bent.”

“That’s easier said than-.”

“It’s because it’s not easy that I am with you. From now on, even if you fall, I will catch you every time.”

He gently rubbed the joints of her bent fingers with his thumb, as if reassuring himself he was the one holding her hand.

Helena watched this repetitive action for a few seconds before speaking.

“I don’t need help that comes without a cost.”

“I feel the same way.”

“Then what do you want? Beyond just living, do you think there’s more I can give?”

As she looked up with an unsatisfied gaze, he softly narrowed his eyes.

“Just catch me too.”

“…Me, catch you?”

Unlike her hesitant response, Ian readily agreed.

“I’m human too; I fall. Often. When that happens, you should reach out your hand to me. Isn’t that why people live together? Knowing they might fall, yet choosing to live that way.”

“…”

“Even if we’re swayed, it’s okay. Just live, Helena.”