Chapter 10 - Afterwords

𝕬𝖋𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉

3 months later…

.

Knock, knock…

My knuckles hovered over the wooden door just before I heard a huff of 'Aww, man…' from inside.

He's probably startled again.

"Come in."

The voice came out muffled, almost groggy, as I twisted the doorknob and stepped inside.

"Barely a moment to breathe after all the chaos on the battlefield," Ethan muttered to himself, straightening up against his bed frame.

"I was about to come to you, Mommy. You're already so busy these days—"

He sounded like an innocent mommy's boy.

"Your mom went to town. She left early this morning," I said, holding back a smile.

He looked up—and instantly turned red, his expression shifting into sheer mortification as realization struck.

"Dammit, I really called her that?" He mumbled under his breath, though I caught every word.

Clearing his throat, he slipped out of bed—almost tripping in the process.

"Hi, I—" He exhaled through his nostrils. "Pardon, I should have changed before your arrival."

"It's fine, I don't mind," I said, raising a hand.

"Had apples again?" I added jokingly.

"No," he laughed shortly, walking over to his desk. "But this time, I had a dream—a black-haired woman holding a page, spitting out her evil-intention speech, spooky villain gestures and all."

"Well, I read your poem last night—pretty scary, honestly. I thought of it, anyway. You called me pretty early; is everything alright?"

I stood against his desk.

"You brought the journal?"

"Yes, here—" I picked it out of my satchel.

"Keep it," he hovered his hand, gently pushing it back toward me.

He reached for his wooden box. As he lifted the lid, a fresh quill nestled inside came into view—its midnight-blue feather shimmering under the dim light with an almost ethereal allure. It's fine barbs, ink-stained tip poised, ready to etch words onto parchment.

My eyes widened in awe.

"I made this from my pen—the one you first scribbled in this journal with. It works well, efficiently even, so I thought it could be used for this."

He closed the box and handed it over.

"You can have it."

I exhaled with a soft smile, taking the box and running my fingers over the smooth wood.

"That's beautiful... Thank you."

"Don't mention it. Write something."

"Huh? Ah... alright."

I pulled the quill free, setting the box on his desk before scribbling quickly onto the journal's parchment.

Suddenly, a knock echoed against the door.

"Hi— Oh! Did I disturb you two?"

Ethan's valet, she peeked inside before stepping in, holding a tray of muffins.

"I cooked them myself. Here, try them!"

She hovered the tray close to Ethan's face before he pushed it away, groaning.

"No thanks. I already know you suck at cooking."

"Hey, that's rude." She stared up at me.

"Here, new guest—you try it."

I glanced at Ethan. He gave a subtle shake of his head—don't pick one.

"No, thanks. I'm fine." I smiled sheepishly.

She huffed and set the tray aside.

"So, tell me—what are you two up to? Any personal chats?" Her tone was cheeky.

"There's nothing like that," Ethan said bluntly.

"Oh! No no, lemme guess—she's being shy, and you're—"

Before she could finish, Ethan shoved the tray back into her hands and dragged her toward the door.

"Shut up." He muttered, then slammed it shut.

Her muffled complaints trailed off as she stomped down the carpeted hallway, throwing a few curses behind her.

"She's a cute kid," I said with a light smile.

"Huh. A cute kid." Ethan scoffed.

"She's more of an annoying—" He sighed. "Anyway, what did you even scribble?" His frown softened.

I slowly turned the journal toward him, then glanced down at it myself.

He stared at me, expression blank.

"Muffins?"

"But I cut it the moment you gestured not to try them... amm... hehe." I grinned again, sheepish.

He grumbled with a deadpan look and sighed.

"Alright, that's how it works. Hm... anyway, that's it for now. You can leave. I'm—" his eyes shifted to the unkempt bed, "—going back to my slumber."

He tossed himself onto the bed, burying his face in the pillows, snuggling into them. His voice came muffled.

"What?" I asked.

He lifted his head briefly before shoving it back down.

"Tell her not to disturb me again."

"Ahmm." I nodded, sweeping the journal closed, sliding it and the quill into my satchel. I stepped out, quietly pulling the door behind me with a soft click.

I exhaled and let my shoulders drop.

"That went well."