Layla's POV
Everything was dark.
Not the kind of darkness that scares you… but a numb, quiet kind. Like sinking into deep water where sound and light don't exist. My body felt heavy—too heavy. My limbs didn't respond. My mind floated, sluggish and tired. I didn't even know if I was alive.
But even here, in this black void, I remembered him.
Noah.
That idiot. That sweet, kind, stupid idiot.
The past two days… he never left me. Not for a second. Even when I could barely open my eyes, I could feel him. Holding me. Whispering that it would be okay.
I remembered the warmth of his hands, the roughness of his palm brushing against my forehead, gently tucking back my hair. I could barely breathe, barely talk… but he kept talking to me. Whispering softly.
Telling me I wasn't alone.
He didn't sleep properly. He didn't eat properly. He didn't care that my body was releasing a foul, cursed energy that made even healers hesitate to come near.
He held me close anyway.
Like I was the most precious thing in the world.
Even when I cried out in pain, when my body twitched from the corruption inside… he was there. Whispering comfort. Kissing my hand. Holding me tighter like he could share my pain.
And today…
I don't know how to describe what he did today.
He washed my body. All of it.
Even though the scent was unbearable. Even though the corrupted energy clung to my skin like filth. I would've understood if he looked disgusted. If he turned away even for a second.
But he didn't.
He whispered, "Your legs are beautiful."
My legs. Those same limbs that had gone pale and lifeless under the corruption.
Then he… he kissed my navel. That spot on my stomach where the corruption was thickest. It was ugly. I knew it was ugly.
And yet…
He pressed his lips to it like it was sacred.
Just how much do you love me, Noah…?
You touched me—my body that should've repulsed you—and treated me like I was still beautiful.
That idiot… He even touched my breasts—pervert! And his hands… they weren't rough or greedy.
They were slow. Tender. Reverent.
Like he was worshiping me.
Just thinking about it makes my face heat up. I feel like a kettle about to explode. I want to slap him. I want to kiss him. I want to scream.
And I wanted more.
His fingers… the way they traced my skin… the way he whispered, "Let me return the favor."
Even though I was weak and half-broken, he made me feel alive. Desired. Loved.
"You idiot," I whisper in the darkness, tears forming in the corners of my eyes.
"Don't blame yourself."
"You're the best man I could dream of."
"…Hehe~"
I let out a giggle. Soft. Tired. But real.
Then… suddenly…
It happened.
My body, even here in this void, started to change. The corruption didn't burn anymore. The curse didn't feel like chains. They were… swirling. Flowing. Merging together. The pain was turning into heat. Power. Strength.
I could breathe.
I felt alive.
My consciousness jolted—and I opened my eyes.
And I was floating.
Not in a dream. Not in a void.
But in the real world.
I was weightless, suspended in the air above the bed, black and violet energies swirling around me like a raging storm and an elegant dance all at once. My hair flowed wildly. My eyes burned with a sharp glow. Symbols of ancient magic formed across my skin, glowing with cursed beauty.
I looked at my hands. My fingers crackled with curse energy—but it didn't hurt.
It felt right.
I was not cursed anymore.
I was the curse.
And then I heard it.
"Layla!!"
His voice.
I turned.
Noah stood there—his crimson eyes wide, full of disbelief, fear, awe… and love.
He looked like he couldn't believe what he was seeing.
I didn't say anything. I didn't need to.
Because I knew what he was thinking.
And I just smiled, floating there with corrupted wings beginning to form behind me—twisting shadows laced with delicate runes.
I'm okay now, my love.
Thanks to you.
And I will never let anyone hurt you again.
—To Be Continued.