The room was quiet, but Elicia’s mind was anything but.

She lay stiffly on the bed, her fingers gripping the edge of the thin blanket, the warmth of the meal she had eaten earlier still lingering on her tongue. It had been so long since she had real food—something warm, something not rotting or stale. But the comfort it brought felt foreign, almost unnatural.

Her body had spent too many years starving, too long enduring nothing but scraps and whatever she could force down to survive. And now? Now she was full, and it felt wrong.

She wasn’t used to this.

Kindness.
Help.
Why? Why didn’t he hurt me?

Elicia curled into herself, her mind drowning in thoughts she didn’t know how to process. The silence was deafening, pressing against her like a weight.
Eventually, exhaustion pulled her under.
. .
Wet. Cold.

She gasped, her body tensing at the unexpected sensation. Her skin was damp—cool water dripping down her arms.

Refreshing?

Her breath hitched as she pulled the blanket around her, covering herself instinctively. Panic surged in her chest.

Her eyes darted around the dimly lit room. That’s when she noticed it—a basin of water, a damp cloth resting on its edge, and beside it, fresh clothes neatly folded.

Her gaze snapped toward Aaron.
He stood a few steps away, arms crossed, his expression unreadable behind the mask. His eyes flicked to her, calm and unwavering.

“What?” His voice was indifferent, almost bored. “You were filthy.”

Elicia stiffened.
He… washed me?
Her grip on the blanket tightened until her knuckles turned white.

He must’ve noticed her discomfort because he let out a sigh and shook his head. “Relax. I didn’t do anything weird. Just wiped the dirt off.”

She said nothing, her heart hammering in her chest.

“I left clean clothes,” he continued, nodding toward the folded fabric. “Change. You smell like a corpse.”

She flinched at his bluntness, but he didn’t seem to care. He simply turned his back to her, standing near the door with his arms crossed, as if he were keeping watch.

Elicia hesitated, staring at the fresh clothes. The fabric looked soft, clean—something she hadn’t worn in years.

Her fingers trembled as she reached for them, but her body refused to move further.

She didn’t trust this.
Didn’t trust him.
Didn’t trust that this was real.

“Why?” The word slipped out before she could stop it. Her voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper.

Aaron didn’t turn around. “Why what?”

“Why are you… doing this?”

A long silence stretched between them.
Then, finally, he answered, “Does it matter?”

Elicia swallowed. She wanted to say yes. It did matter. No one had ever done something for her without expecting something in return. No one had ever given her food, warmth, or even a choice before.

Yet, here he was.
Cold, distant, but not cruel.
She hated it.

Hated how confusing it was. Hated that a part of her wanted to believe it.

“…Just change,” Aaron muttered. “I don’t have time for this.”

His tone held no patience, but he still kept his back turned, giving her space.
Elicia hesitated a moment longer before finally moving. She unwrapped herself from the blanket, forcing herself to breathe through the anxiety clawing at her chest.

Her body ached. Bruises, old and new, littered her skin—a sick reminder of the life she had barely escaped.

She changed quickly, the fabric soft against her skin, unlike the rough, tattered rags she had worn before. The fresh scent of the clothes felt almost… foreign.

She sat back down on the bed, pulling the blanket around her once more, her heart still racing.

Aaron turned around then, his gaze scanning her for a brief moment before he spoke. “See? Not that hard.”

She lowered her eyes. “I could’ve done it myself.”

“You were unconscious.”

A sharp pang of humiliation hit her. Unconscious. Weak. Helpless.
Her fingers curled around the blanket again, but she didn’t say anything.

Aaron didn’t push the conversation further. Instead, he grabbed the basin and cloth, walking toward the door. But before he left, he paused.

“Get some rest,” he said. “You’ll need it.”
Then he was gone.

Elicia sat in silence, staring at the closed door.
She should’ve felt relieved that he had left.
But instead…

Again.

A strange, unsettling emptiness filled the room.
And she hated that even more.