Delusional

Noelle leans in, his lips mere inches from mine, and I feel the heat of his breath against my skin. In a desperate attempt to maintain control, I cover his mouth and flip us onto the bed, my weight pinning him down. His skin is blazing hot beneath me, and he gazes up at me with an expression that's a mix of pleading and desire.

I fight to stay grounded, trying to resist the pull of his urgency. I meet his hazy, green eyes with a stern gaze. "My beloved star, look at me," I command, though my voice wavers with the effort to stay resolute. His eyes still plead, reflecting his internal struggle.

"...Noelle, please," I beg, the desperation clear in my voice. It's a last-ditch attempt to keep control as I'm teetering on the edge.

His eyes start to clear, confusion replacing the fog of desire. "...I think your heat has started. Do you have suppressant medicine?" I ask, trying to stay calm. He nods slowly, though his body squirms underneath me.

"Where are they?" I ask urgently, the tension in my voice rising. My eyes lock onto his, hoping he sees the urgency in them.

He hesitates for a moment before responding. "Left bottom, covered in green parchment," he says breathlessly. I see him glance at my lips, and I follow his gaze, feeling the magnetism between us. The invitation in his eyes is almost too much to bear.

Summoning every ounce of willpower, I manage to stand up and leave the room, my mind racing as I head to the kitchen. I find the jar he mentioned, and with trembling hands, I prepare the water and herb mixture. The sight of it brings a pang of familiarity—it's the same mixture Noelle drinks every morning.

Returning to the room, I brace myself for the scene I left behind. I sit on the edge of the bed, watching as Noelle takes the cup and downs it in one swift motion. His gaze is intense and filled with a raw need.

"Leave," he says huskily, his voice cracking with the strain. I don't need to be told twice. I quickly undress and step into the bath, turning on the ice-cold water. As the chill envelops me, I close my eyes and let the cold wash away the heat, welcoming the numbing relief as it soothes my body and mind.

*

Thirty minutes later, I emerge from the bath, feeling calm and cool. The pheromones still linger in the air, but I'm now steady enough to handle them. As I enter the room, my heart skips a beat when I see Noelle lying on the bed, seemingly unconscious. Panic surges through me, but I quickly realize he's only asleep. 

I rush to his side and feel his burning skin—he's still so hot. My heart aches seeing him like this, but I'm determined to care for him. I grab a basin of cold water and a cloth from the kitchen, then gently begin to wipe away his sweat.

As I work, I can't help but smile. This is a new experience for me, taking care of him instead of the other way around. It feels deeply satisfying to be the one providing comfort for once. I study his face with focused attention, marveling at how beautiful he is. His features are striking: the delicate curve of his lashes, the elegant arch of his brows, and the soft, inviting shape of his lips.

In these quiet moments, I allow myself to fully appreciate his beauty and the deep connection we share. The more I look, the more captivated I become.

I love this haven of ours—just the two of us, secluded from the world. My thoughts drift obsessively as I trace my finger down his temple, gently cupping a few strands of his hair. I bring them to my nose and inhale the delicate scent of flowers that lingers on them. 

I close my eyes, savoring the intoxicating blend of the floral scent in his hair and the lingering pheromones that permeate the room. It feels as though I'm drowning in his presence, overwhelmed and exhilarated by the intimacy of the moment. His soft, steady breaths gently pull me back to reality. I open my eyes and return my focus to his damp skin, continuing to dab the cool cloth against his cool skin.

As I watch Noelle sleep, my mind wanders to the future we might build together. I think about how our little home will need expanding, especially with the thought of welcoming two children into our lives. This one-roomed space won't be enough. Maybe I could look into getting a stable, secure job—perhaps a blacksmith, though that would mean daily trips up the hill, which doesn't sit well with me. The idea of opening a shop here feels intrusive; I don't want strangers encroaching on our private sanctuary. Farming seems like the perfect solution. Noelle has a natural affinity for it, and with my telekinetic abilities, harvesting would be manageable. There's an expanse of land on the left side of the hill that we could turn into our personal paradise.

I imagine us traveling someday, taking a break from our routine for little vacations, perhaps making it an annual tradition even with our children. These thoughts fill me with a warm sense of hope and anticipation. As I continue to gently dab the cool cloth on Noelle's forehead, I think more about our future.