Chapter 4 – The Walls Between Us

Adrian awoke to the faint sound of birds chirping outside. Sunlight filtered through the small window, casting a soft golden glow across the modest wooden room. The warmth of the morning was comforting, but as soon as Adrian shifted to sit up, a familiar unease settled over him.

He was still here.

His fingers curled into the blanket as his eyes wandered around the room. The small wooden shelves, the dried herbs hanging near the window, the neat stacks of books—everything about this place felt untouched by cruelty. Yet, that didn’t mean it was safe.

For years, he had learned that kindness often came with a price. No one ever helped him out of pure goodwill. The moment people saw what he had become, they flinched, their pity twisting into revulsion. He had no reason to believe that she would be any different.

Still, there was something unsettling about the way she treated him.

He had expected fear. Expected distance.

Instead, she had given him warmth. A bed. Food. Care.

Adrian ran a hand over his face, pausing when his fingers brushed against the rough, scarred skin that marred his once flawless features. His jaw tightened as he turned his head slightly, catching his reflection in the small mirror resting against the wall.

The sight of himself still sent a sharp pang through his chest.

The once-golden-haired heir to an empire, admired for his striking looks, was long gone. In his place was a man disfigured by an unknown virus, cast aside like he was nothing. His own family had turned their backs on him. His ex-fiancée had recoiled in disgust.

Adrian clenched his fists, forcing himself to look away.

Through the window, he spotted her moving through the yard, tending to the animals. A small goat trailed behind her, and she bent down to scratch its head, her expression peaceful. She looked so at ease, as if she belonged here.

For a moment, a strange thought crossed his mind.

What would it feel like to belong somewhere again?

But he shoved the thought away just as quickly.

That kind of life wasn’t meant for him anymore.

By the time he gathered enough strength to step out of the room, she had already prepared breakfast.

A simple wooden table sat near the fireplace, where two bowls of warm porridge rested. The scent of honey and fresh bread filled the air, reminding Adrian just how long it had been since he had eaten something homemade.

“You should eat,” she said, glancing up as he hesitated in the doorway.

Adrian hesitated for a long moment before forcing himself to walk over. He sat across from her stiffly, barely meeting her gaze. The silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken words.

She didn’t force conversation right away. Instead, she took small bites of her food, giving him space. It was… different. Most people tried too hard to fill the silence, to ask prying questions. But she didn’t push.

Still, Adrian felt the weight of her curiosity.

“How long have you been traveling?” she finally asked, her voice gentle.

Adrian didn’t answer immediately. He stared down at his spoon, shifting it in his hand before muttering, “A while.”

She nodded as if she expected his brief response. “And before that?”

Adrian’s grip on his spoon tightened. He could feel the words sitting on the edge of his tongue, but he couldn’t bring himself to say them.

She was waiting patiently, but he wasn’t ready to open that wound.

Instead, he abruptly stood up, pushing his unfinished food aside. “I’m not hungry.”

Her expression remained unreadable as she watched him retreat. She didn’t chase after him. Didn’t try to stop him.

That, somehow, made it worse.

Adrian spent the rest of the morning outside, watching her from a distance as she tended to the animals.

The small farm was quiet, peaceful. Birds fluttered between the trees, the crisp air carrying the scent of fresh hay. He hadn’t seen a place like this in years—untouched by the cruel world beyond its borders.

The girl was kneeling beside a goat, brushing its fur when a sudden thump made her gasp.

The goat had knocked over a bucket of water, spilling it all over her boots.

She let out a small, startled noise before groaning. “Seriously?”

Adrian watched as she wiped her damp hands on her skirt, looking exasperated. But then, to his surprise, she laughed.

It was a soft, warm sound—completely unguarded.

Adrian felt something strange stir inside him. He had expected her to be irritated, maybe even angry. Instead, she just shook her head, murmuring something to the goat as if scolding a child.

A small, almost-forgotten feeling flickered in his chest.

Amusement.

His lips twitched for just a second, but he caught himself before the smile could form.

He didn’t deserve to laugh.

Not anymore.

As the day wore on, Adrian realized he had pushed himself too far. His body was still weak from everything he had endured. By the time evening arrived, a wave of dizziness crashed over him.

He tried to steady himself, gripping the doorframe for balance, but his legs buckled beneath him.

Before he could hit the ground, gentle hands caught him.

“You’re still not fully healed,” she said firmly, supporting him as he struggled to stay upright.

Adrian gritted his teeth. “I don’t need—”

“Enough,” she interrupted, her voice soft but unwavering. “You don’t have to do everything alone.”

The words hit him harder than he expected.

No one had ever said that to him before.

His pride screamed at him to push her away, to reject the kindness. But his body betrayed him. He was too exhausted to fight.

So, for once, he let her help.

That night, Adrian sat in front of the fire, staring into the flames.

She was across from him, quietly sewing. The soft crackling of the fire filled the silence between them.

For once, he found it wasn’t uncomfortable.

After a long moment, he finally spoke.

“I didn’t always look like this.”

She looked up, her expression unreadable. She didn’t pity him. Didn’t recoil.

She simply nodded. “I know.”

Adrian wasn’t sure why, but that answer made it easier to breathe.

For the first time, he didn’t feel like a monster.

And maybe… just maybe… he didn’t have to be alone anymore.