Max nearly slapped himself just to make sure this was not some ridiculous dream, that this beautiful woman, a masterpiece shaped by nature itself, was truly the one initiating the conversation.
"If not, then—" When Max failed to reply, Rosalia puffed out her cheeks and half turned on her heel, already looking ready to leave.
"No—I mean, yes, let's talk, wait—!"
His hand instinctively shot out and caught hers, taking her off guard. His grip felt like a mountain. The roughness of his palm, shaped by endless labor day after day, and the sheer strength with which he pulled her back, made her heart flutter for a brief, dangerous second.
The instant he realized what he had done, Max released her. Even so, their eyes had already met, and an awkward silence settled between them. Neither of them spoke until Max forced himself to break it.
"Should we walk outside and talk about what you needed to tell me?" He coughed, his gaze fighting not to linger on her face for too long. She looked unbearably cute tonight, and he could not deny to himself that nobody else came close.
"Yeah, that would be better." Rosalia agreed, relief slipping into her voice. Staying shut inside with Max was not something her feelings could survive right now.
Together, they stepped outside and wandered into the woods while the night wind whispered softly through the trees, guiding them deeper beneath the dark canopy.
Moonlight poured over them in silver waves, and on Rosalia it became something almost unfair. It brightened every line of her face, every soft strand of hair. When Max stole a glance at her from the corner of his eye, he could not stop himself from drawing in a cold breath.
Her gray eyes shone like moonlight given form, and her hair gleamed so delicately that she looked untouchable, like something holy that never should have belonged to this world.
"It's been a little more than a year since we found you by the road," Rosalia began, her eyes fixed ahead. "At that time, I didn't know the village would change so much in such a short time. All because of you." Those final words were the heaviest of all, carrying the very heart of her unrest.
"Do you still wish I was gone?" Max asked, choosing the sharpest path instead of hiding behind softer words.
"That—" Rosalia stopped herself, her mouth closing again. "I'm not sure. It's complicated, and that is what I wanted to talk about today, because it's been sitting on my chest for so long like a rock I cannot shake off, and I can't sleep at night because of it..." She exhaled heavily, her eyes wandering across the forest so she would not have to look at him.
Max lowered his head and fell silent for a moment. "I'm not going to defend myself for what I caused. I know what it did to you and to the people of the clan. But at the same time, I do not regret it. The power I gained changed my fate, and if you allow me to keep going, it will change the fate of your clan too."
"Why? Why do you continue to stay here? Are you really some saint trying to repay for his sins, or do you have another plan for us? Because I've seen what you can do. With your power, why would you choose to suffer this much?" Rosalia turned to him, her eyes locking onto his with trembling resolve. They were wet, so close to tears that it looked like one wrong word would make them fall.
Max stopped himself from answering. He wanted to tell her the truth, to tell her that he liked her, that he wanted to stay here for her, not because of the others who looked down on him and saw him as nothing more than a tool. She was not like them. Only she had ever looked at him and seen a person. But he was afraid, afraid that if he said the wrong thing now, he would only destroy what little still remained between them.
"I'm no saint, but I'm a man, and a man must do what he must to repay for his sins." He bluffed. That was the path he chose. It was not entirely false to what he believed, but it was still a lie in the place that mattered most. If she were not here, he would have never stayed for this.
"Is that all?" Her eyes searched his with fragile hope, as if pleading for him to say something different, something she had been waiting to hear.
"That is all," Max replied calmly.
Rosalia turned away and continued walking. Tears slipped free from her eyes and rolled down her cheeks without stopping. "You men are so stupid..."
Max followed behind her, his heart churning in silence.
"You are all the same, chasing after something imaginary, holding onto your beliefs instead of being honest... I guess it is for the best..." Her voice shook, and this time there was no hiding how badly her emotions were breaking through.
Hearing her cry, Max's heart broke, the walls he had forced around himself collapsing in an instant. He rushed after her, his hand shooting out for hers. He knew he had to do it now. He could feel it with painful certainty, she was carrying the same storm he was. That cry cut through him like a blade.
"I thought you were different, Max—" Rosalia's words were stolen by the sudden pull. In the very next moment, she gasped as his lips crashed into hers. Electricity tore through both of their bodies, hot and blinding, making them melt helplessly into the kiss.
Rosalia felt that heavy rock finally slide off her chest, leaving her so light it almost frightened her, as if his sudden embrace had burned away every worry she had carried until now.
Max tasted the sweetness of her lips, and it was intoxicating. His heart hammered like a roaring engine, and the soft warmth of her body pressed against his made him pull her in even tighter.
A few seconds later, Rosalia finally came back to herself and pushed Max away. "I—I have to go now... Goodnight, Max." She did not wait for an answer. She turned and rushed off at once, not giving him the chance to follow even as he reached out after her. Max remained where he was, his mind thrown into turmoil, wondering if he had just messed everything up.