Dark Romance: A Cruel Obsession

Luzia didn’t often have nightmares, but after marrying Joseph, her nightmares were always about him.

In her dreams, Luzia often cried and screamed, only to wake up and endure Joseph’s increasingly brutal treatment.

It was a nightmare that seemed to have no end, neither in reality nor in sleep, and Luzia felt powerless to unravel it.Text © 2024 NôvelDrama.Org.

She glanced sideways at Vivian, who lay quietly beside her, and saw Vivian smiling slightly in her sleep. It seemed like she was having a pleasant dream. Was it about the child?

Luzia felt fortunate that her nightmare hadn’t woken Vivian, and that she hadn’t inadvertently kicked or disturbed her. But Luzia couldn’t sleep anymore; she felt thirsty. So, she quietly lifted a corner of the blanket and got out of bed.

Her jacket, which she had taken off before sleeping, was draped over a chair by the bed. Luzia put it on, slipped into a new pair of cotton slippers, and quietly opened the bedroom door.

The hallway lights had been deliberately dimmed, but Luzia quickly adjusted to the reduced brightness. She stepped into the hallway, closing the door behind her.

The thick carpet in the hallway was the perfect sound muffler, so even though she didn’t walk softly, Luzia didn’t worry about waking the sleeping occupants.

There was water in the guest room, but Luzia still wanted to go for a walk. She told herself she just wanted some fresh air, to quietly move around the deserted mansion in the middle of the night, and to grab a can of cola she had wanted to drink before bed but hadn’t. With this excuse to leave her room, Luzia set off. She slowly made her way to the stairs on the other side of the hallway.

One step, two steps.

Three steps, four steps…

Finally, she stopped at the door of the adjacent room, two rooms away from the stairs. But Luzia couldn’t move any further.

She told herself she should move her feet, not stop, and keep walking forward. But she still stopped.

She knew who lived in this room; it was the person she longed for day and night, the person with whom she had once passionately entwined in bed, and now the person she wanted to see but dared not.

Mare…

Luzia cautiously moved her feet. Despite knowing that the carpet would help muffle all sound, she couldn’t help holding her breath, taking careful steps, inching closer and closer until her forehead pressed against the cold door.

She imagined pressing against Mare’s strong chest, but the door was too hard and too cold. It made her eyes well up in distress, tears silently dropping onto the carpet in front of the door.

Her long nails quietly scratched the door panel, imagining the living person standing in front of her.

Do you miss me too?

Do you dream of me?

Do you dream of us kissing, making love?

The door was too thick, and Luzia’s voice was too soft to convey her questions or to elicit any response from Mare.

Luzia dragged her heavy feet downstairs, rubbing her tired eyes, and made her way into the kitchen.

She had been to Mrs. Yazmin’s estate many times. Aunt Yazmin, worried about her after Paavo’s death, had specially brought her to the estate for a while. The fridge in the kitchen had been filled with her favorite fried foods.

Sure enough, Mrs. Yazmin’s affection for her was unmatched. Fried chicken, chicken wings, cola, and beer were neatly arranged in their familiar spots.

Luzia opened the overhead cabinet; there were also chips and biscuits.

She tore open a bag of chips and took out a can of ice-cold cola from the fridge. Balancing the fried chicken and wings, she used her shoulder to close the fridge door.

Her steps made a “shh-shh” sound as she walked, her cotton slippers rubbing against the floor. She walked through the glass door outside the kitchen, entering the darkness outside the mansion, accompanied by the cool breeze and the cold moon.

In the corner, there was a round table and three chairs. This used to be the place where Mrs. Yazmin and Luzia enjoyed their afternoon tea together. Now, there was someone sitting there, like a shadow lurking in the dark for a long time.

As soon as Luzia appeared, the figure suddenly stood up, startling her. “Ah!” she exclaimed, and her hands, already filled with items, lost balance, and the chips spilled onto the floor.

If the person hadn’t reacted quickly, reaching out to grab her arm, the plate of chicken and wings would have fallen too.

Luzia stared blankly at the person in front of her. Even in the darkness, she recognized those eyes-she had often secretly pictured them in the dark.

“Mare,” Luzia opened her mouth, and the name that lay buried deep in her heart slipped out, but she couldn’t hear her ownvoice, nor could she hear his. Her mind was blank.

Mare didn’t have a cold appearance. When he stood expressionless in front of people, the first thought that came to mind wasn’t “this person is so cold” or “this person is so fierce,” but rather, “why doesn’t he smile?”

Luzia had often tried to address this question through action, but she usually received silence from Mare in response. However, Luzia didn’t mind; in fact, she found some amusement in it.

She often teased Mare with comments like “Why don’t you smile” or “Give me a smile.” Later, these turned into “You look so gentle when you smile” or “I love your smile.”

Gradually, Mare started to smile, but only for Luzia.

Luzia often thought that she might have been wrong; she shouldn’t have teased Mare. But the mistake had been made, and she couldn’t undo it.

She could only accept the reality and indulge herself in falling into Mare’s arms.

Mare took the fried chicken from her hands and placed them carefully on the small round table. He then turned back to face Luzia, his eyes softened, a familiar gentle smile appearing on his lips.

His fingertips carried a familiar warmth as they lightly touched her lips, and his softly spoken words were like a gentle sigh. “Is it okay?”

“Don’t ask,” Luzia replied to his question with a gentle kiss, rising on her tiptoes.

Mare’s breath became erratic; he held her face as if cradling a treasure, his lips moving, his agile tongue parting her teeth, deepening the kiss.

In the dark of the night, they kissed, just as they always had, with caution and fervor.

Luzia was more passionate than Mare; one of her hands still held the cold cola can, which made a faint sound in her palm, while the other hand, following his warmth, moved towards Mare’s waist.

Mare suddenly felt a chill at his waist, and the next moment, her touch made him flinch.

The chill brought Mare back to his senses. He hastily ended the lingering, passionate kiss. He lowered his head, resting his forehead against Luzia’s, eyes fixed on her, breathing heavily. “You…”