Another whole day passed, and after Ceshir fell asleep, he never opened his eyes again. Isri came in a few times and called out to him, but Ceshir remained unresponsive.
Sehir woke up again in the early hours of the next day, awakened by the sound of raindrops outside.
The ceiling above his head looked even more blurry, as if a veil had been drawn over his eyes. Sehir breathed calmly, threw off the covers, and stepped barefoot onto the floor.
I opened the window, and the cold wind rushed in again. Rain hit my face and soaked some of my hair.
The clouds outside were very low, and the buildings in the distance were shrouded in fog and could not be distinguished at all.
Sehir stood motionless by the window, lost in thought again. Fortunately, it was morning, and when Isri pushed the door open, he saw the window was wide open.
Startled, Isri quickly grabbed a coat from the hanger, ran to Ceshir's side, draped the coat over Ceshir's shoulders, and then turned around to close the window.
At the last second before the lock was locked, Ceshir stirred and looked up at Isri.
Isri took a towel from the food cart, covered Sehir's head with it, wiped his already wet hair, and opened his mouth to speak.
"Your fever hasn't gone down yet, being exposed to the wind like this will only make it worse."
Sehir stood motionless, and it was then that Isri noticed that Sehir was still barefoot.
Almost instinctively, Isri knelt down and picked up Ceshir.
Staggering, Sehir grabbed Isri's clothes from his shoulder. Once he was sitting on the bed, Sehir looked into Isri's eyes and opened his mouth again.
"Okay, I understand."
Now that Sehir was as obedient as a doll, Isri tightened his grip on the towel, his expression not very pleasant.
"Today is prayer day, shall we go to church?" Isri asked, looking at Sehir.
"No... I want to rest."
Cecil kept repeating the same phrase, like a wound-up toy.
The bruises on his wrists had lessened considerably, but in Isri's eyes, the mark was still glaringly obvious.
Despite preparing different dishes for Sesil every day, Sesil's face remained expressionless.
—
The window was closed.
Sehir leaned back on the bed, his head turned to the side. The room returned to silence, with only the sound of raindrops pattering outside.
The ring on my hand is so loose that it could fall off if I tilt my hand even slightly.
He wanted to sleep, to stay quietly curled up in bed, and Cecil's hand holding the ring twitched.
The rain outside seemed endless, and Cecil's image was reflected in the window, his grey-blue eyes devoid of any emotion.
Those once jewel-like deep blue eyes now look like defective products, repulsive.
The caged bird spends its days nestled in its familiar safe zone, seemingly having developed a resistance to the outside world.
Islam won, and won decisively.
That once proud canary has long since rotted in the corner, its skeleton covered by blooming wild roses in a place unnoticed by anyone.
Sehir looked at the ring in his hand and gently rubbed it.
This is the key that Isri gave him for his imprisonment, and now he is returning it.
The rain still hadn't stopped; it was time to end everything.
Chapter 113
Sehir closed his eyes, and the sound of rain grew louder, as if it were jeering, constantly pounding against the window.
The rose on the ring seemed brighter than usual today, the light reflecting into my eyes as if I had fallen into a bottomless abyss.
Cecil placed the ring in his palm, seemingly lost in thought. After a while, he picked it up and reached out to break off a bit of the stem of the black and gold roses that were wrapped around it.
I didn't have much strength to begin with, and it took a lot of effort to break the branch off. I finally managed to break the bronze branch into a sharp point, but then I accidentally cut my finger.
Sesil winced in pain as blood dripped from his fingers onto the sheets, staining them with a dark red hue.
It really hurts...
Seeing the bloodstain on the sheets, Cecil's lips curled into a slight smile. Lightning roared down outside, casting the shadow of the person on the bed onto the floor.
Cecil gritted his teeth, took the ring in his hand, hardened his heart, and plunged it into the skin of his wrist. The sound of the skin breaking seemed to explode in his brain, screaming at his nerves.
They were cheering and celebrating, celebrating that the poor little bird was about to be free.
—
Seemingly stained with blood, the already dull thorns became even more jagged, their barbs tearing flesh apart.
The cut was deep, and almost instantly, blood began to flow from my wrist, making my porcelain-white skin appear even paler.
On the contrary, at this moment, Sehir's face showed little expression; he was about to be free.
Really? Does such a thing as heaven really exist?
Sehir raised his head slightly, his breathing becoming more labored, and his eyes, which had remained unchanged for so long, finally misted over.
Cecil stopped when his hands trembled so much that he could no longer hold the ring. He turned his head and looked at the closed door.
“Isri…” Ceshir sighed, opening his mouth as if mocking, “I’m running away, you can’t catch me.”
After finally managing to say those words, Sesil felt as if the air in his lungs had been suddenly sucked out, and pain instantly assaulted his entire body.
Sehir couldn't help coughing and tried to raise his hand, but the gushing blood stopped him again.
Even the slightest movement of my fingers caused excruciating pain throughout my body, and the coldness made it impossible to feel the warmth emanating from the blankets.
Feeling a bit sleepy... Sesil tilted his head to the side, his breathing slowing down.
He never imagined that one day he would be imprisoned on this sinful bed by the very method of death he hated most.
Everything around him fell silent, and his vision began to blur. Cecil struggled to open his eyes.
It wasn't that he suddenly changed his mind; he just wanted to see if the rain had stopped, to retain a sliver of clarity. Cecil looked up at the window.
You still can't see what's outside from there, and the water is still flowing down in streams.
It seems the rain hasn't stopped...
The ring rests in my palm, the rose petals gleaming black. This key to the cage, Ishri, I'm returning it to you.
Seraphim suppressed the stinging pain in his throat, exhaled calmly, his lips twitched twice, and he closed his eyes.
Islam, I don't want to hate you anymore.
We're even now...
—
"Bang!!"
The thunder outside suddenly intensified, and the rain poured down relentlessly from the clouds. Islam paused for a second while watering the flowers, and his heart involuntarily twitched.
There was only enough water left in the watering can for one pot of flowers. Just as Isri raised his hand to sprinkle the last bit of water in, the clock struck noon in the distance.
Islam paused, put the watering can aside, straightened his clothes, and went to prepare lunch.
Thinking it over, Isri glanced up at the second floor, but ultimately went into the kitchen.
The pasta today was freshly delivered yesterday; Sehir will definitely like it. Isri is quick to act; he's already a little impatient.
It was clearly noon, but the sky outside was almost as dark as night. Islam stood at the door and gently knocked.
There was still no reply from inside. Pushing open the door, they saw Sehir sitting on the edge of the bed. A glint flashed in Isri's eyes; Sehir hadn't slept all day.
Isri quickened his pace and walked to Ceshir's side, but as he got closer, he suddenly realized that something was wrong.
Besides the smell of pasta, there was also a stench of blood in the room. Isri frowned as he looked at the person sitting on the edge of the bed.
Instantly, it was as if the nerves in Isri’s brain exploded. He reached out and grabbed a corner of the blanket, pulling it open abruptly.
The strong smell of blood instantly assaulted his nostrils. Islam froze on the spot, trembling uncontrollably, his eyes bloodshot, and he let out a suppressed roar.
"Young...Master..."
Islam's face was stiff, and he stammered as he opened his mouth, while the person on the bed remained motionless.
Blood soaked the sheets, enveloping the person inside, like a rose nurtured by blood, recklessly absorbing its owner's blood.
Her already frail body was now covered in a dark bluish-black bruise from the peeling skin on her wrist, and her breathing seemed to be about to cease completely at any moment.
Islam was stunned for less than a second before his eyes widened and he rushed out of the room.
He rushed to his room without stopping, opened a drawer, and carelessly threw the contents onto the floor.
No! Not here either!
The air felt heavy in his nostrils, and bloodshot veins appeared in his eyes. Enraged, Isri swept everything off the table.
"Ugh!"
Isri clenched his fists, beads of sweat forming on his forehead, and slammed his fist on the table. His breathing was so disordered that he could barely stand.
Isri opened his mouth wide, panting heavily, his eyes repeatedly filled with tears.
"Calm down!" Islam said, his voice trembling as he gritted his teeth.
"Calm down! Calm down!" Isri frowned deeply, his clenched arms trembling violently.
The next second, like an arrow released from a bow, Isri rushed to the wardrobe, haphazardly throwing out the things inside. Finally, in the innermost compartment, he found what he wanted.
Holding the box, Isri pushed open the door and rushed into Ceshir's room.
Standing next to Sehir, Isri was too afraid to meet his gaze, and he couldn't steady himself while holding the bandage in his hand.
Isri lowered his head, his eyes were red, and pulled Ceshir into his arms, his face already pale to the point of being bluish.
Almost instinctively, Isri lifted Cesil's wrist and tightly wrapped the gauze around it, the blood soaking through layer after layer.
This was the first time Isri had ever been so flustered. The bandage was finally wrapped up, and the next second, Isri grabbed Cesil and rushed out of the door.
Chapter 115
After watching for a while, Islam finally buried his head in his arms. What should he do next?