Chapter 133:
After tying the ribbon, Allison returned to bed.
The length of red silk extended from the top of the bed down to the floor, an invisible bond between them.
Ken was momentarily taken aback, his eyes following the soft curve of the ribbon.
Then it clicked — Allison had sensed his unease and quietly offered this simple gesture, a way to ease his nerves without drawing attention.
She had saved him from embarrassment.
“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice low, almost a murmur.
It was clear she was trying to put him at ease.
A warm sensation spread through Ken’s chest, something he hadn’t felt in what seemed like forever.
The feeling reminded him of the herbal tea he had earlier.
It was as if his entire being was immersed in a calm, warm bath, utterly rxed.
If Jim had been here, he would’ve been shocked by the smile that tugged at Ken’s lips.
The deep-seated anxiety and restlessness that had been gnawing at him all evening slowly ebbed away, reced by this quiet warmth.
With a contented sigh, Ken closed his eyes, letting sleep im him.
But peace was short-lived.
Ken’s brow furrowed as he slipped into a fitful dream.
He murmured softly,
“Don’t…”
In the haze of sleep, Ken found himself running down a long, endless road.
No matter how far he went, the road stretched on ahead.
He had no idea where he was or what he was meant to do.
All he knew was that he was carrying a small girl on his back, her weight pressing down on his shoulders.
He ran unevenly, stumbling as the ground beneath him seemed to shift.
The girl, however, grew lighter with each step, as if she were slipping away from him.
Panic surged through Ken, and he tightened his grip, fists clenching instinctively.
Then, he heard her whisper — a soft, familiar voice, brushing against his ear.
“Cross my heart and hope to die, I’lle find you.”
Suddenly, Ken jolted awake, his breath shallow.
He sat up, pressing a hand to his forehead, disoriented.
The room was dark, save for the flickering glow of the scented candle on the nightstand.
He exhaled, realizing with a shaky breath that it had all been a dream.
“Why did it feel so real…” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
Instinctively, Ken turned to nce at Allison.
She had fallen into a deep, peaceful sleep, her breathing soft and steady.
Her nket, however, had slipped to the floor during the night, leaving her uncovered.
The rain outside continued in soft, intermittent taps against the window, the asional drops hitting the leaves with a soothing rhythm.
Ken slowly rose from where hey and carefully pulled the nket back over Allison, tucking it around her.
Allison,pletely exhausted, remained sound asleep.
Her expression was serene, as if she had returned to a ce offort and safety.
Maybe, somewhere deep down, she trusted him enough not to sense any danger, not even stirring as he watched over her.
Ken’s gaze lingered on her face, tracing her features in the dim candlelight.
His eyes settled on her lips, and in that quiet moment, he couldn’t help but remember the kiss they’d shared in the elevator — intense, lingering, unforgettable.
His breath hitched, and he caught himself, quickly looking away and shaking the thought from his mind.
Slowly, he stood and turned his attention to the window.
“The rain has stopped,” he muttered softly.
The storm had passed, and the dark clouds had begun to clear.
Moonlight now streamed in, casting their shadows on the wall.
The way the light hit, their shadows appeared close — entwined, almost like lovers.
Ken took a small step back, and their silhouettes briefly ovepped, merging into a single shadow before separating once again, blending into the surrounding darkness.
His gaze drifted to the ribbon she had tied — the bow still resting gently in his hand.
He stared at it for a long moment, then, as ifpelled by some quiet thought, reached out and touched its shadow on the floor.
In a low, tender voice, he whispered,
“Allison… sweet dreams.”
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