I Will End My 10-Year Unrequited Love - Chapter 42

Water pooled beneath Elia’s dress as the rain soaked through. The heavier her steps grew, the more restless her heart became. She didn’t understand why she was walking so fast. The closer she got to her destination, the more she felt something she had been suppressing for a long time begin to burst forth.

“Cyrone.”

Elia finally stopped walking and called his name. She lowered the black umbrella she held onto Cyrone’s shoulder. In that small world where the two stood together, no more raindrops gathered.

Cyrone slowly turned his head. His vacant eyes reached Elia at a sluggish pace. After seeing her face, Cyrone gave a short, dry chuckle.

“…Well, well, who do we have here?”

His face held everything, both the scorching heat and the bitter cold. His piercingly cold eyes and lips red as fire. Under the narrow umbrella, their gazes intertwined.

“I knew it had to be you.”

Cyrone muttered in a dry voice. When Elia saw her reflection in his eyes, she felt her mind clear for the first time.

Why had she come all this way again? What was she doing here? She silently repeated to herself.

“See? You’ll never be able to leave me.”

It was Cyrone who tore through that thought of hers. He buried his face in her shoulder and murmured. The warmth from his body touched through the cold air.

“Remember? You used to hold me like this sometimes.”

Cyrone spoke as if lost in a dream. Elia gripped the umbrella handle tighter, not avoiding him even as he leaned on her. But unlike before, she didn’t wrap her arms around his shoulders. Not even until her shoulder was soaked through.

“You held me.”

The place where their bodies touched was hot, especially since the whole world felt like winter. Cyrone’s scent instinctively brushed against Elia’s delicate cheek. She forced herself to ignore the pounding heat in her chest.

“You did back then, didn’t you?”

Cyrone’s face crumpled like a child, waiting for her reply. The first feeling he had upon seeing Elia was relief. The hope that she still loved him, the certainty she would never abandon him.

And yet… even now, just her presence made him despise himself as he swung between heaven and hell.

But Elia was no longer the same as that day. She didn’t hug him back or whisper comforting words as before. The warmth that once passed between them was gone. Memories had turned irretrievable, tormenting Cyrone.

“Elia.”

Cyrone spoke urgently, calling the last light granted to his life. The voice was full of longing but, as always, dry. His long lashes lowered toward the ground trembled faintly, unable to hold back the rain.

“Why do you avoid me? Don’t you feel sorry for me anymore? Can’t you smile at me just once more like you used to?”

Because then I feel like I could live. So just once more―.

Cyrone muttered with vacant eyes. Like waves crashing in, the world swayed.

Suddenly, anxiety gripped Cyrone. That fierce wave seemed about to wash away the sandcastle he had built, stealing everything he had in an instant.

“Your Highness, I worry you might catch a cold like this. Please, go inside.”

Elia put some distance between them and spoke calmly. Usually, she couldn’t hide her feelings from Cyrone, but today, there was nothing she could sense in herself.

“Elia!”

Cyrone grabbed her shoulder tightly. His voice began to tremble. The calm mask he always wore twisted in an instant.

“Why don’t you look at me like you used to? There’s no one else but me. I’m all you had. Why?”

He bit his lip and spat out the words harshly before collapsing to the ground. His knees soaked with the rainwater pooling there. Struggling to catch his breath, he lifted his head, and there were Elia’s cold eyes.

“Everyone’s eyes are always on Your Highness.”

Everyone whispered about Cyrone and the deposed Empress. Elia never wanted to see Cyrone fall like this. She knew how many were waiting for his downfall, wanting him to sink into despair. The more they wanted that, the harder he had to hold on and survive until the end.

Elia looked down at Cyrone with even sharper eyes.

“Don’t act like a child.”

The dynamic between them had twisted completely. Elia remained calm, but Cyrone laid bare all his emotions. Watching him, she reflected on whether she had ever looked like that. A hollow ache filled a corner of her heart for no reason.

“I think about it every day. What if you really leave me? What will I do?”

Cyrone muttered, wrapping his face in his hands. The face that had arrogantly looked down on Elia from a place of power was now crumpled and broken.

“I—I have no one but you. Now, truly, no one but you…”

The feelings he’d forced himself to deny burst forth like a flood. Even when he had sent his mother’s coffin away, his emotions had remained intact, but now they shook as if waiting for this moment.