My Beloved, Whom I Desire to Kill - 327

The firmness of the forearm cradling my neck involuntarily causes my body to tense, just as it does when I’m holding onto that same arm at the peak of pleasure. This man, for some time now—and these days, virtually every night—has been sleeping without his pajama top whenever he takes Giselle in his arms. Thanks to this, I explore his domain with my fingertips as if it were an uncharted territory.

His shoulder blades, which Giselle’s widely splayed hand couldn’t even half cover. His shoulders, which, as expected, couldn’t be encompassed by a single hand. And the masculine line that runs from his nape to his jaw. His physique is as if it were sculpted from meticulously carved stone; there is no part of him that isn’t hard.

Except for this spot.

Under my fingertip, his smooth lower lip is softly crushed, like a ripe apricot bursting with pulp. It is a body that possesses the granite-like strength of a rock combined with the softness of velvet—it is utterly characteristic of Edwin Eccleston. Tonight, however, he seems closer to an overripe fruit. When I was younger, being held by this man made my heart pound, but now, it’s a spot a little lower that tingles. The more I know, the more I want.

The scent of mint on his lips made me terribly hungry. All the more so because I know the taste of the juice that would burst out, accompanied by his heat-laced breath, if I were to bite into it. I’ve starved for too long.

Giselle swiftly ambushed him. Her attempt at a lip-heist was narrowly thwarted because the owner was awake.

He tips his head back and laughs softly. It’s infuriating. He doesn’t even offer a soothing kiss in return, claiming it was just a joke. Now, I hate him.

When I tried to slip out of his embrace, Edwin simply rolled his body, lightly pinning Giselle beneath him. No matter how careful he was not to put his full weight on her, the difference in our physiques was so great that once this man had me pinned, there was no escaping. He held her captive like that and asked,

—Can’t you sleep?

His voice was rough, like brittle, dry earth, and faintly cracked at the end. When he laughed, he seemed so composed it made my blood boil, but the fact that he was actually tense made my anger instantly dissipate.

—Do you think you could sleep when there’s a beautiful woman in your bed?

—The beautiful woman will still be in our bed tomorrow.

—And Mr. Handsome will just sleep soundly tomorrow, too.

—If that’s how it looks, then I must have hidden it well.

—…Hidden what? Confess quickly.

I had a feeling he wasn’t just talking about poor sleep. This man had taken care of himself while Giselle was sleeping.

—Why would you do that without me…?

—Because you shouldn’t.

That was the story from when my wound hadn’t fully healed and my thighs would cramp up from even a small amount of exertion in my lower body.

—How could you enjoy that interesting thing all by yourself…

If you were afraid of hurting me while we were doing it together, you could have at least let me watch. He laughed again, as if he found Giselle’s trembling betrayal adorable, and the subsided anger flared up once more.

—Show me the fun you had alone. Otherwise, there will be no forgiveness.

—When you can walk without a limp.

—What does that have to do with…

—It has everything to do with it. You sometimes cry because your legs hurt.

The deeper the pleasure penetrates the body, the more you instinctively stretch your legs. That’s why I inevitably stretch all the way to my toes when I reach the peak, and sometimes the calf cramps that result are excruciating.

—Now, imagine that happening to your thighs. It would do wonders for muscles that have just barely been stitched back together.

That was something Giselle wanted to avoid, too.

—Then how about this?

Giselle traced her hand down the solid channel from his chest to his lower abdomen. The area between his legs, currently occupied by her thigh, had been stiffly tense for a long time, following the subtle movements of Giselle’s hand.

Edwin didn’t answer her question of ‘How is this?’ He was a man who would never actually ask for it.

But he wouldn’t refuse if I touched him, would he?

However, this assumption was broken when she grasped the mountain-like mound of his erogenous zone, pants and all. Edwin pulled his hips back and removed Giselle’s hand. He interlaced his fingers with hers, caging them so she couldn’t touch him anymore.

Why did he refuse?

Giselle hadn’t injured her arm, nor was she about to give him oral sex, which he loathed, asking ‘Why are you putting this dirty thing in your mouth?’ Even in the darkness, he explained as if he could see Giselle’s expression clearly.

—I like it, but if you touch me, I’ll want to touch you too. Once I start, I won’t be able to stop myself. Even if I hold back, if only one of us is enjoying it, it’s not making love, is it? So, as a result, I don’t want it.

—If you enjoy it, I enjoy it too. That is love.

A pained moan spread, resonating in his chest. Edwin embraced Giselle and showered her face with kisses, but, with astonishing dexterity, he avoided her lips.

—I like it best when you are in my arms. Then you’re happy, too. That is love.

The words were sweet to hear, but my mind couldn’t grasp them.

—Honestly, you said you couldn’t hold back and did it alone!

—When did I say that? I’m not that disloyal.

—Then what was it, exactly?

—You appeared in my dream.

—…….

—So even I couldn’t help it.

—My God…

If you’re going to have a wet dream with me right next to you, you might as well just do it with me, the woman in his arms grumbled.

I wish I could, too.

It wasn’t just Giselle who made Edwin hesitate.

‘I’m afraid to sleep with Natalia now.’

Every time he tries to touch her, he hears the voice of the dead man. Is it right to make love with Giselle while feeling the emotions of another man?

Just as fragments of a body torn apart by an explosion remain where a mine detonated, or as the sea is covered in oil when a ship runs aground, the broken consciousness of the dead man drifts in pieces within Edwin’s mind.

Flesh rots and vanishes; oil eventually seeps away and disappears. But this consciousness is something that not even a single hour can erase as long as he lives and breathes.

The uncharacteristic emotions that surge without warning, and the thoughts and memories of another person that constantly surface. More intense than when he was alive, the deceased now invaded Edwin regardless of time or place.

Even in the long-desired moment of liberation, Edwin could not rejoice. This was because all the feelings the man had experienced right up to the point of giving up his own life surged into Edwin as vividly as if they were his own.

The unsealed memories were equally painful. The wicked deeds he had previously thought someone else had committed now became wholly Edwin’s own experience. Before, he was a victim whose body was used, or at best, an accomplice, but now he was the sole, true culprit.

Yes, since it’s my crime, it’s right that I should bear it and live with it to the very end.

The disappearance of the other personality was not liberation. Rather, it had merely demolished the boundaries between them. He sadly accepted that returning to his completely whole past self had been impossible from the moment the other persona first sprouted inside him.

Can I govern this new me?

That was the challenge Edwin had to overcome on his own.

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Giselle had left the Army Headquarters Intelligence Bureau in midsummer and could only return at the beginning of winter.

Yet, as soon as she put her officer’s uniform back on, she had to take it off again.

—We have news that the delegations of both nations have finally signed the armistice agreement around noon today. People of the nation, the age of peace has begun with Mercia’s victory!

The war was over.

Following Operation Horizon, Constanza was cornered on almost every front and eventually had its traditionally ruled territories occupied by Mercia. When the enemy lost not only its borderlands but also the very foundations of its economy—which was already reeling from the war—it could no longer hold out and was the first to request an armistice.

Constanza resigned itself to enduring the humiliation, and while the Queen of Mercia was naturally not satisfied with this, she no longer had the justification or the power to command her people to continue the war, so the agreement was quickly concluded.

That day, the entire country was a place of celebration. The Army Headquarters was no exception. As soon as the sun set, the base’s pub was raucous with the singing and laughter of drunk soldiers shouting at the top of their lungs.

They celebrated the end of the war more than the victory. This was because everyone was reminded of at least one person who had eternally laid down their arms and fallen for that elusive victory.

The man who had followed Giselle not only to this pub but even into the military seemed genuinely pleased that he could finally drive his most promising subordinate out of the army.

—You’re on leave starting tomorrow. You don’t need to submit a resignation. You’ll be discharged when your leave ends.

Edwin whispered the unilateral announcement into Giselle’s ear like a secret. The place was so loud that you couldn’t hear the person next to you, so everyone, regardless of rank or gender, was whispering to each other, meaning the two of them wouldn’t necessarily look like a couple.

—I should at least finish my duties before leaving.

—That’s your successor’s job. You’ve experienced firsthand that Room 303 doesn’t stop just because you’re absent.

It was disappointing to be told she wasn’t indispensable, but on the other hand, a unit that falls apart because one officer takes medical leave deserves to fail.

—But there’s a dog at home who can’t do without you.

It was only natural for the man who had revived the dead love in her heart, but Edwin Eccleston knew how to sway Giselle’s feelings.