Please Kill Me - Chapter 116
When Yekaterina threw herself off the cliff, those thoughts hadn’t crossed her mind. It just felt like losing Leonid would lead to something irreparable.
She had spent her whole life losing things, so losing one more person shouldn’t have changed much.
Yet, why did that moment feel so despairing?
Was it because, if Leonid died, there would be no one left to kill her in a clean way?
If it were that simple and clear-cut, Yekaterina wouldn’t be so troubled.
‘Why?’
She remembered holding his hand, walking out of the forest holding his hand. The feeling back then, as if her lungs were filled with bubbles.
Maybe it was like the sun meeting the gaze of a sunflower. Wandering alone in the vast sky, suddenly realizing someone was constantly looking at you.
Oddly, it wasn’t unpleasant. A lifetime of being an outsider. The realization that someone cared enough to watch her persistently was a new feeling for Yekaterina.
‘You like me, don’t you?’
Leonid often denied it, but if he didn’t like her, why did he keep looking at her that way?
In the world she knew, there was no other explanation. And in her world, there was nothing to replace that gaze.
Maybe that’s why. The thought of losing Leonid made her blood run cold.
She had to save Leonid to stay alive.
Realizing this, Yekaterina felt a bit startled.
‘To stay alive?’
It wasn’t a phrase that suited someone wanting to die.
But right now, thinking about Leonid, ‘to stay alive’ felt so natural. Why was that?
She looked up, meeting his gaze, and wondered aloud.
“Are you… holding my life in your hands?”
At that moment, Leonid’s expression turned strange.
The distortion was clear, but how could one describe those cracks?
They resembled a flickering shadow of fire. Like most things that burn, it seemed destructive and fierce, yet strangely, it didn’t evoke fear. It felt more like gazing into the depths of a shimmering lake, where the shadows of the water danced deeply.
Whether it was fire or water wasn’t certain, but they shared a common trait: they both wavered and flickered.
Yekaterina waited patiently for a response. After a long silence, the man finally spoke.
“…It’s not that I hold your life in my hands; it’s that you hold mine. How could it be otherwise?”
“What do you mean?”
“Touch me.”
The casual nature of the word felt unfamiliar.
Yekaterina moved closer and reached out her hand. His body felt hot, possibly due to being wrapped in blankets or because of his injuries. When her cold hand touched him, she felt a slight tremor in Leonid’s body. Such a reaction only heightened a subtle sense of conquest.
Her hand moved to his shoulder, tracing the deepest part of his shoulder line, then found its way to his carotid artery. Her touch was slow yet unhesitant, eventually cupping his cheek. She felt his slightly elevated breath against her wrist.
Yekaterina looked towards where his breath touched her, then raised her gaze to meet his eyes.
She saw gold. Those eyes had always held a peculiar ability to captivate. While they were usually just striking, now they seemed almost mesmerizing.
The golden hue, melting like honey, appeared irresistibly sweet.
A sudden urge washed over her, a desire to kiss him. The impulse began to dominate her thoughts.
‘Should I do it?’
There seemed no reason not to. Stealing a kiss wouldn’t wear him out. His face was already cradled in her hand.
And here, they were completely alone, just the two of them.
No one was there to scold her for such a theft, and there was no reason to be scolded.
So, just for a moment. Just once…
“….Stop.”
Leonid’s eyelids fluttered closed. He firmly removed Yekaterina’s hand from his face.
Disappointment flashed across her features, as if a dessert placed right under her nose had been snatched away. Although he didn’t see her discontented expression, Leonid’s brow furrowed with tension.
“…I understand what you’re feeling right now, but you’ll regret it. So,”
“Why?”
It was just a simple kiss, nothing special. Unless he considered himself the forbidden fruit, why would there be any regret?
Yekaterina’s hand, held by Leonid, slowly intertwined with his. Their fingers locked together, her soft skin brushing against his.
“You don’t dislike it either.”
“Yekaterina…”
Leonid’s frown deepened, and his eyelids lifted slowly. He looked slightly angry.
“You’re determined to make me the worst kind of man.”
