The next day, someone came knocking at the door—loud and relentless—until Ellen finally opened it. Of course, it was Sofia.
"Hello, my father sent me to ask if you could please send Elliott to help him with—Holy Thor!" Sofia's eyes widened as she stepped inside, spotting Matthew sitting beside Rafaela.
He was carefully wrapping Rafaela's finger, tending to a small cut she'd gotten from testing the sharpness of a blade—sharp enough to nick her skin.
Matthew barely glanced up as Sofia stared at him. His face was still bruised, his right eye swollen, but he didn't seem to care. He focused on Rafaela's hand, tying off the bandage.
"What happened to you?" Sofia finally asked, her voice quieter than before.
Matthew smirked, but it didn't reach his eyes. "What, this?" He gestured vaguely to his battered face. "Just a friendly match."
Sofia scoffed. "Right. Because 'friendly matches' usually end with someone looking like they fought a bear."
Matthew exhaled, standing up slowly. His ribs protested, but he ignored the pain. He glanced at Ellen, who was already returning to her work, then at Sofia, who looked like she had no intention of leaving without him.
"Fine," he muttered. "Let's go."
Sofia led the way outside, walking a little ahead of him. Once they were far enough from the house, she turned abruptly.
"My father doesn't actually need help," she admitted. "I just needed an excuse to talk to you."
Matthew raised an eyebrow. "You could've just asked."
Sofia crossed her arms. "Would you have come?"
"…Fair point."
A beat of silence passed between them before Sofia sighed, her frustration giving way to something else—concern.
"What the hell were you thinking?" she asked. "Challenging Ren like that?"
Matthew tilted his head. "So, you do know what happened. Well, I was thinking I didn't want to be sold."
"You could've died."
"I didn't."
Sofia let out a sharp breath, shaking her head. "You're impossible."
Matthew smirked again, but this time, there was something softer beneath it. "And yet, you're still here."
[Look at him go. I couldn't have given a better answer myself.]
Sofia's lips parted slightly, as if she wanted to argue, but no words came out. Her eyes searched his face, frustration and something else flickering beneath the surface.
She crossed her arms, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. "You're lucky, you know that?" she muttered. "Lucky that you're standing here instead of—" She cut herself off, shaking her head.
Matthew tilted his head. "Instead of what?"
She exhaled sharply, clearly irritated. "Instead of lying in the ground, or burned, you idiot."
Matthew chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Well, I was thinking I didn't want to be sold. Thought I'd try my luck."
"You could've died," she snapped, her voice a little louder this time.
"But I didn't," Matthew said simply, repeating himself.
Sofia pressed her lips into a thin line, glaring at him like she wanted to smack some sense into him. "You're impossible," she repeated.
Matthew's smirk returned, playful but knowing. "And yet, you're still here."
She didn't answer.
The silence stretched between them, thick and charged, until Sofia looked away first, exhaling slowly. She turned on her heel and started walking.
Matthew hesitated for a moment before following, stuffing his hands into his pockets.
"So," he began, "what did you want to talk about? Is it about what happened the day before yesterday? It was just—"
He never finished his sentence.
Because before he could process what was happening, Sofia turned, closing the small distance between them in a heartbeat.
Then she jumped into his arms.
A kiss—just the whisper of one—before the momentum sent them both crashing to the ground.
She landed on top of him, breathless, her face hovering just inches from his.
The only thing in Matthew's mind was: Is this bitch in heat or something?
But then she spoke, her voice shaking.
"Please, Elliott, don't do something to get yourself killed. I don't know what i would do without you."
Matthew stilled. He knew what she would do—manipulate Ace into taking revenge.
Sofia's eyes were wet, glistening with unshed tears. This wasn't the sharp, sarcastic girl who usually threw snide remarks his way. She was scared.
"I'm begging you, please…"
Matthew swallowed, unsure of what to say.
[Say exactly what I tell you to say.]
Matthew wanted to protest, but for once, he didn't fight Elliott on this.
[Poor freckles, you're too good for someone like me.]
Matthew hesitated, then let out a quiet breath. His thumb brushed softly against her cheek, wiping away a tear before it could fall.
"Poor freckles," he murmured, repeating Elliott's words, cringing slightly at the corny line. "You're too good for me."
Sofia let out a shaky laugh, one that sounded more like a sob.
[Now kiss her.]
Matthew's fingers curled at the back of her neck, pulling her closer. And this time, it wasn't a whisper of a kiss. It was a tornado of emotions, and something else swelling in Matthew's chest. Was it his feeling? Or Elliott's?
He couldn't even tell the difference anymore.
For a moment, the world slowed to a crawl. The weight of everything else fell away—until the sharp crack of a snapping twig shattered the stillness.
Both of them froze.
Their heads turned in unison toward the sound.
Ace stood just a few steps away, one eyebrow raised, arms crossed. His expression unreadable, but his presence unmistakable.
"Well," he said, voice dry. "Don't let me interrupt."
Sofia quickly scrambled off Matthew, her face flushed.
Matthew groaned, letting his head fall back into the grass. "Perfect timing, as always."
Ace came close and didn't smile. "Carry these for me," he said flatly, before tossing the bundle of swords he was carrying onto Matthew's chest. The weight knocked the air out of him with a grunt.
Matthew wheezed. "What the hell?"
"They're dull," Ace said, already turning back the way he came. "Father had me reshaping them. You're lucky I'm too tired to punch you."
"Thanks," Matthew muttered, adjusting the heavy metal. "You know, I did almost die like… a day ago."
"And yet you still found the energy to roll around in the grass," Ace called over his shoulder.
Sofia coughed into her hand, trying to hide her embarrassment. "I should probably head back…"
"Yeah," Matthew said, looking at her, his voice softer. "Thanks for coming."
She nodded once, hesitating like she wanted to say more, but then turned and walked away.
Matthew let his gaze linger on her for a second longer, then turned to see Ace already making his way toward the house, completely unfazed.
"Hey, wait for me!" Matthew called out, scrambling to his feet and adjusting the bundle of swords on his shoulder.
Ace didn't stop walking. "Then walk faster, lover boy."
Matthew rolled his eyes and jogged after him. "C'mon man, don't tell me you hate me now? She's the one that kissed me, you know?"
"I don't care." Ace didn't even glance at him. "After you put those outside the house, go feed the animals."
Matthew narrowed his eyes. "Are you giving me chores 'cause you're mad, Aci?" He tried to keep his tone light, tried to stay in character—Elliott's character. It was getting easier, day by day. But it still felt like walking a tightrope.
"Nah," Ace let out a short laugh. "I'm just thinking you could at least make yourself useful if you're eating our food."
There was no teasing in his voice. No grin. Just flat words.
And that actually hurt—Matthew, or Elliott. Maybe both.
He didn't say anything back. Just gripped the swords tighter in his arms and followed behind, the weight suddenly feeling a little heavier.