Chapter 207 Only With You
The expanse of empty beauty around us was silent, timeless. It was a realm suspended in thought and memory, as though the universe itself had paused to grant us this fleeting moment together.
I lay on my back, my head resting on Eve's lap, her floating hands moving gently above me. They swayed with an almost maternal grace—one hand brushing stray strands of hair from my face, another resting lightly against my shoulder, and a third tracing idle patterns in the still air.
My chest still felt heavy from the weight of Eve's revelation, but the sting of my earlier outburst had begun to fade. Tears had dried on my cheeks, leaving behind a raw, aching vulnerability that I wasn't accustomed to showing.
"You know," I murmured, breaking the silence, "You've made me cry twice now."
Eve tilted her head, her serene expression flickering with playful curiosity. "Twice?" she echoed, her voice carrying a note of feigned innocence.
"Yes." I closed my eyes, letting out a shaky breath. "Once when you shoved that horrible realization into my head—that I'm truly Daffodil, since every Daffodil is cursed to suffer. You saw what I meant when you opened my memories.
"And now, when you tell me you're leaving me for good." My voice cracked, and I opened my eyes to meet hers, grinning like an idiot. "You're a terrible person, Eve."
Her floating hands paused for a moment, then resumed their gentle movements. She chuckled softly, the sound carrying a mixture of amusement and regret. "Terrible, am I?" she said, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "Then I must apologize for forcing you to feel such betrayal."
"Hmm, to be exact, this isn't actually a betrayal," I corrected, my voice steady despite the lingering lump in my throat. "Betrayal is ten times worse. Sure, it might lead to the same scenario, but what matters is the thoughts behind the betrayer."
"What you've done... it's just an ill-fated destiny. You gain nothing from this, so neither greed and ambition can be used as the reason, and you're not driven by malice. It's just… an untimely sequence of natural events."
Eve's smile grew, touched with something warm and genuine. "For someone who often claims she doesn't know how to connect with others, you understand humanity better than most.
"Even better than me, the very incarnation of humanity's logic and reason. Had become a Holy Saint for a good while too." Eve then chuckled.
I let out a small, self-deprecating laugh. "Well, for one, I've never felt like I was living as a human. Not truly." I turned my gaze upward, staring into the void above us. "When you're surrounded by humans, you're forced to adapt—to imitate. I had to learn their ways, their hearts, so I could act like one of them. But that's all it's ever been: an act. I'm nothing but a wolf in sheep's clothing, really."
Her floating hands moved closer, one brushing against my temple while another rested lightly over my heart. "And yet," she said softly, "You're fascinated by them."
"I am," I admitted. "Even when I was Lothair, trapped by a cruel mental affliction that made every interaction feel like walking on glass, I couldn't help but admire humanity. Their freedom of expression, their laughter, their ability to connect with one another so naturally—it was everything I couldn't have."
Her hands froze briefly before resuming their soothing gestures. "If you could, would you want to be cured of that... symptom?" she asked, her tone cautious, as though she were treading on delicate ground. "When I looked into your memories to craft this fairytale Earth, I noticed it. That urge, that fixation—it's still there, isn't it? Suppressed, but present."
I laughed softly, shaking my head. "I've thought of getting rid of it once and for all. But now, I wouldn't want it cured."
Her floating hands stilled, hovering close but not touching. "Why not?" she asked, her voice tinged with curiosity.
"Because it's part of me now," I said simply. "In some twisted way, now that I'm Narcissus, or Daffodil and whatever, it made me appreciate myself—my face, the foundation of it, then slowly spread to every part of me, including my own identity.
"It gave me a sense of self-worth, pride, sanity, that carried me through Carcosa's horrors. Without it, I wouldn't have survived. And besides..." I hesitated, my voice dropping to a near whisper. "I've always been easily disturbed. Even as a child, the unknown terrified me. Humans terrified me. That's why I had to understand them.
"And now, in Carcosa, there's so much more to fear—unknown fates, looming threats. Without my narcissistic self to cling to, I don't think I'd ever sleep at night."
Eve's laugh was soft and melodic, her floating hands pressing lightly against my shoulders in a comforting gesture. "You're adorable," she said, her tone carrying an almost maternal affection.
I smirked, pride flickering in my chest. "Of course I am. Cute and adorable—that's me."
Her expression shifted to one of exasperated amusement, though her eyes sparkled with genuine warmth. "You're insufferable," she said with a sigh, though the corners of her mouth betrayed a smile. "But I suppose I understand now. Your symptom... It's a curse that has been slowly evolving into a boon. Paired with that perfect face of yours, it's no wonder you've survived~"
"Why, thank you," I said with a playful grin. "I'll take that as a complement! Besides, isn't it because of this face too that you ended up proposing to me?"
"I see, so this is your method to mess with me."n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om
"I still remember it, the passion and embers as you knelt and offered me those void-coated bouquet~"
"Ah, now that you mentioned it, it annoys me now knowing that there will be a lot of people in the future who will do the same to you."
"If you want to prevent it, be with me forever, then."
"Haaah, if only~"
Her laughter echoed through the empty realm, filling it with a fleeting sense of joy. It was a sound I wanted to hold onto, to revisit whenever the weight of Carcosa pressed too heavily on my shoulders.
Speaking of revisiting moments...
"Eve," I said, my tone shifting to something softer. "About that wish you mentioned."
Her floating hands folded neatly over her lap, her expression turning expectant. "Have you decided what you want?"
I tilted my head, feigning thoughtfulness. "I want you."
She rolled her eyes, though a faint blush colored her cheeks. "Be serious, Narcissus."
I chuckled, my smile softening. "Fine. If I have to be serious..." I hesitated, my voice lowering. "I'm worried about my future, Eve. You've seen their 'threats' and 'reminders'—the suffering, the grief, the betrayals. It's all been predetermined to a great extent, hasn't it?"
Eve's expression grew somber, her hands brushing against my arms in a silent gesture of comfort. "Some paths are more likely than others," she admitted. "But nothing is truly set in stone."
I sighed, closing my eyes briefly. "Still, it would hurt if those I trust now turn against me…
"If—when—that happens, I want a safe haven. A place, or something, or someone I can turn to. Something that won't ever betray me."
Her gaze softened, her hands cupping my face gently. "Why not wish for power instead?" she asked, her tone teasing. "Wouldn't that make everything easier?"
I smirked, meeting her gaze. "Power would be nice as a side bonus—if it comes in a package deal."
She laughed, the sound light and genuine. "You're impossible."
"True," I said, my grin widening. "But honestly, I don't want to dictate the details. This wish... I want it to be more of a gift from you than an order. Make it more meaningful this way, and then I'll get to savor the thoughts of remembering you for longer when you're not by my side anymore.
"Not to mention, the thought and meaning behind it matter more to me than the result. Though, I prefer if both are equally as great~!"
Eve's twintail spirals brightened faintly, her hands brushing against mine as a smile of quiet understanding spread across her face. "You're full of surprises, Narcissus," she said. "But I think I know exactly what kind of gift to give you.
"Before that, though... There's someone we need to visit. Someone who's been working tirelessly to stabilize the chaos of Carcosa's fractured time."
Her floating hands gestured, and the empty expanse around us began to ripple and shift. "Kuzunoha, your so-called most reliable secretary awaits us," she said, her smile tinged with anticipation. "And she seems to have been worrying sick about you."