#59. Growth (2)
Why am I suddenly like this?
Frozen in panic, Pavel stared blankly at Sasha.
Seeing him act so strangely, Sasha waved a hand.
“Pavel, what’s wrong? Come inside.”
The scent filling the room and pricking at his nose—the one causing strange reactions in his body—was Sasha’s.
The fragrance of her body mixed with the oil she used.
It was the scent he had always liked, one that eased his mind and lulled him to sleep at night.
So why did it suddenly feel so… provocative?
Weirdly enough, breathing it in made everything worse.
His body grew hot, his temples throbbed, and a heavy weight pressed below his navel.
Unconsciously, Pavel grabbed his nose and staggered back.
“Pavel?”
Sasha, startled at his pale face and retreating steps, shot up in alarm.
“What’s wrong? Are you sick?”
Her gaze followed his trembling eyes—then dropped to the hand clamped over his nose.
Why is he covering his nose?
Tilting her head, Sasha took a step closer.
But the closer she came, the more Pavel flinched and panicked. She stopped mid-step.
“Do I… smell strange to you?”
“…”
“…I just took a bath.”
She muttered dejectedly, lifting her wrist to her nose.
Sniff sniff. All she caught was the faint aroma of oil—pleasant, not foul.
Everyone says it smells nice, so why is Pavel…
“Maybe he hates jasmine?”
Her voice barely registered for Pavel.
His senses were elsewhere.
His gaze was fixed on her damp shoulders.
Her wet hair clung to her skin, the fabric plastered against her body and revealing her slender, delicate figure.
Drip.
A droplet fell from her chin, trailing down her collarbone and slipping beneath the loose neckline.
“—!”
Pavel’s breath caught.
Unable to follow the droplet’s path beneath the cloth, he squeezed his eyes shut.
Thump. Thump.
His heart pounded loud enough to echo in his ears.
It raced wildly, heat pooling in his core, his trousers suddenly tight.
Pavel trembled at the unfamiliar response of his body.
This had never happened before.
His thoughts tangled into chaos, leaving him unable to think at all.
Why… damn it, why Sasha…
Clenching his fists tight, sweat trickled down his spine.
If he stayed here any longer, he’d do something even he couldn’t understand.
So—
“Pavel?”
Without realizing, he bolted from the room.
He couldn’t stay a second longer.
In that space where every sense—sight, smell, everything—was inflamed, who knew what he might do.
“Pavel! Where are you going!”
Her voice followed him, but he had no time to stop or answer.
He ran. All the way back to the training ground, and then farther still.
He ran until sweat poured like rain and his lungs burned, desperate to hide his body’s treacherous reaction.
He told himself the heat, the racing heart, the endless sweat were from exertion—not from Sasha.
But even after running himself ragged, washing, and lying in bed… the reaction persisted.
What’s wrong with me?
Could it be some illness?
Frowning, Pavel shut his eyes.
And behind the lids, Sasha’s face appeared.
“…Damn it.”
He snapped his eyes open again, unable to sleep all night.
It didn’t stop there. The strange reactions continued in the days that followed.
Most of the time, they struck when he was with Sasha—so naturally, he began avoiding her.
He knew she was hurt. But he couldn’t help it.
Sometimes he considered confessing honestly.
Sasha wasn’t a licensed physician, but to him, she was the greatest doctor alive.
She had cured the illness that everyone said would kill him.
Even renowned doctors had given up, yet she had restored his health.
How could he not trust her?
Back when they lived in the annex, every time he fell sick, Sasha had treated him with her medicines until he recovered.
Pavel knew better than anyone how exceptional she was.
And Sasha was sensitive about his health. Even a small cough made her worry about a cold.
So yes—he knew he should tell her.
Maybe these were the early signs of some serious disease.
Just as a fever and sore throat herald the flu, perhaps this was a precursor to something grave.
Like his “Blessing of Mana,” unknown to others, maybe this too was something no one had ever heard of.
It could mean this time, he’d truly live a short life.
Rationally, he should confess to Sasha right away.
If he delayed and the illness worsened, it might be too late.
And yet—
Though he knew this in his head, whenever he stood before her, the words refused to leave his lips.
Some instinct told him not to.
That he mustn’t reveal this state to Sasha.
Caught between fear and hesitation, Pavel ended up doing nothing but avoiding her.
Then one night, he dreamed.
“Pavel.”
In the dream, Sasha appeared.
Her silver hair shimmered with moonlight, her golden eyes sweet as honey.
Her pretty face—soft nose, pink lips—was unmistakably Sasha.
“…Sasha?”
But she wasn’t the Sasha he knew.
“Pavel. Come here.”
It was the first time he realized she could speak in such a lilting, alluring voice.
So soft, so strange, it made his ears tingle just to hear it.
But that voice, calling him so sweetly, felt wrong.
Sasha doesn’t talk like that.
Normally, her voice was gentle and steady, putting others at ease.
And that wasn’t the only strange thing.
“Pavel? Why are you still standing there?”
She smiled faintly—but the warmth he knew wasn’t there.
Instead… the smile was dangerous. Seductive.
Dangerous? Seductive?
Startled by his own thought, Pavel frowned.
He glared, only to see Sasha reaching toward him, clad in a thin, sheer garment.
So thin he could almost see through it.
Her bare shoulders gleamed pale, her skirt indecently short, exposing her thighs.
Why is she dressed like that? She’ll catch a cold…
He told himself he should scold her to change into something warmer.
But—
Damn it.
His gaze refused to leave her slender ankles peeking beneath the hem.
Why am I like this?!
Horrified, he snapped his head up—
only to flinch harder.
“Pavel.”
She was suddenly right in front of him.
So close, escape was impossible.
That intoxicating scent—the one he’d been fleeing—enveloped him.
He couldn’t think straight.
To ground himself, Pavel bit his lip hard.
And Sasha whispered sweetly, right before him.
“Pavel, come into my arms.”
She spread her arms, moving closer.
Just one more step and their skin would touch.
“—!”
He wanted to say stop, but no sound came.
Wait, what’s happening to me?!
Panicked, he tried to step back.
But his body wouldn’t obey.
It was as if invisible chains held him fast.
It’s my body! Why can’t I move it?!
While he struggled, Sasha stepped forward.
“Hehe.”
She laughed softly, cupping his head gently, pulling him close.
Only then did he realize—
he was sitting on a bed.
That was why he had to tilt his head back to see her face.
But that didn’t matter.
What mattered was the warmth of her hands cradling his head.
His mind went blank for a different reason now.
The soft pressure against his nose froze him in place.
He couldn’t even twitch a finger.
“My cute husband.”
Humming lightly, she stroked his hair.
Her tender touch melted the tension in his body.
The warmth of the only person he ever allowed close—it was familiar, and he had longed for it.
But before he could savor it fully, Sasha slowly pulled back.
Looking down at him, she smiled.
As always, it was a kind smile.
Yet somehow, it looked different.
Pavel stared, spellbound, as she leaned forward.
Her hair cascaded down over his face.
Her nose drew nearer—close enough to brush his.
Her face filled his vision, her lips nearing his own—
“No!”
With a shout, Pavel’s eyes flew open.
