Chapter 5 Together In The Dark

• My mind was still in disarray, flooded with images of Sis Elin on the balcony earlier, her overly intimate position, the slow, deliberate movements of her hand, and that recording on her phone screen, the faint silhouette of me in the bathroom that made me feel stripped bare before her, not just physically but emotionally.
• Shame and fear blended into one, like poison seeping slowly into my bloodstream. I couldn’t keep living like this, trapped in this house forever. My dream was simple: find a job in the capital, save up a modest salary, return to the village with enough to build a humble house, and marry the girl I loved, someone simple like me, who knew how to laugh amidst the rice fields or greet neighbors in the morning. But my first day in the city had turned into a strange labyrinth I’d never imagined, full of unexpected turns and shadows I couldn’t grasp.
• No matter how hard I tried to guard my heart and mind, I knew my limits as an ordinary human, a twenty-year-old man with blood still running hot. Sis Elin wasn’t just a beautiful woman; she was a walking storm, with sharp gazes that could melt resolve, soft touches that felt like traps, and a smile that held secrets. If she pushed her seduction further, with a dress slipping to reveal smooth white calves, or an oversized shirt hinting at her curves, or even more, I wasn’t sure I could resist. I was a normal man, and she wasn’t my real sister, just an “adopted sister” who appeared out of nowhere with all her mysteries, like a goddess descending from the heavens but carrying an agenda I couldn’t decipher.
• I let out a long sigh, my hands trembling as I reached for my phone on the bedside table, its wood cold against my fingertips. The dim screen lit up, showing the clock already at midnight, the numbers blinking as if mocking my sleeplessness. The blue light stung my tired eyes, but I didn’t care. With stiff fingers, I opened a job search app, my eyes scanning a long list full of hope: store clerks with modest pay, couriers promising overtime bonuses, construction workers needing strong hands, and even cleaners requiring only persistence.
• I didn’t care what it was, I just needed work, a reason to leave this house as soon as possible; before I sank deeper into the web, Elin wove with her smile. I opened my simple CV, containing only my name; my high school education completed a year ago, and a bit of experience helping my father in the fields, hoeing, planting rice, and hauling sacks of grain to the market. Nothing special, but it was my life’s story, and I wasn’t ashamed to own it. With a small prayer in my heart, I sent my CV to every job listing I saw, one by one, my fingers moving quickly as if afraid of losing time.
• “God, show me a way,” I mumbled softly, my voice nearly lost in the silent night as if only these lavish walls could hear.
• I set the phone down, its screen fading slowly, leaving me in darkness broken only by the faint moonlight slipping through the window’s gap. I stared at the ceiling, the vague patterns of the cream wallpaper shifting in my eyes, like clouds that never stayed still. If only Sis Elin were an ordinary girl—maybe a maiden or a young widow living alone—I wouldn’t mind staying with her. I might have accepted her kindness as a blessing, even let other feelings grow, like affection or something more, the natural bond between two people getting to know each other.
• But the reality was far more complicated. She had a husband, even if he was somewhere out there, sailing thousands of miles away on a cruise ship that might never dock. Anything that happened between us, however small, a touch on the balcony, or as bold as the temptation in the bathroom, would break the law, my morals, and the principles I carried from the village, my mother’s teachings that always said, “Don’t take what isn’t yours, Jericho.” I didn’t want to be the salve for her loneliness, not in the wrong way, not at a cost too high for my soul.
• I closed my eyes, hoping sleep could rescue me from this chaos, like my mother’s embrace that always soothed me on difficult nights. But Sis Elin’s image kept swirling in my mind, her laugh, her eyes, the warmth of her body too close on the balcony, her oversized shirt slipping to reveal smooth white thighs and calves that seemed to call me to lose myself. I sat up briefly, my feet touching the soft carpet, and switched off the room’s light with a quick motion, the button cold under my finger. Darkness enveloped the room. I lay back down, pulling the blanket to my chest, its texture soft but not enough to warm my suddenly chilled body. I tried to force myself into sleep, counting breaths as my mother taught me when I couldn’t rest.
• Suddenly, the calm shattered. The door opened slowly, almost soundlessly, only a faint creak piercing the silence. Cautious footsteps followed, soft but clear, like someone trying to slip in unnoticed. My heart raced, my breath catching in my throat. In the dark, I couldn’t see anything, but I knew who it was. The familiar scent of soap, the same as at the stall, wafted to my nose, mixed with something sweeter, perhaps a perfume I hadn’t noticed before.
• The footsteps drew closer, each step slowing time, and I chose to pretend to sleep, closing my eyes tightly, forcing my breathing to stay even despite my pounding heart. I didn’t want to face her, didn’t want to talk, didn’t know what to say if she started something, another temptation, another touch, or something more dangerous. But what happened next froze me, like a statue fixed in place.
• Without a sound, without a greeting, Sis Elin climbed onto my bed and lay beside me. The mattress shifted gently under her weight, the sheets rustling like whispers, and I could feel the warmth of her body even though she didn’t touch me. My mind spun wildly. What was she going to do? Was this the end of my resistance? I surrendered, knowing I wouldn’t be able to refuse if she pushed further—I was human, and my limits were at their breaking point. But minutes passed, and she just lay there. No movement, no touch, only the sound of her soft, steady breathing, like small waves lapping at the shore.
• I cracked my eyes open slightly, glancing sideways in the darkness, my vision slowly adjusting to the faint moonlight filtering in. The vague outline of her body was visible, lying on her back with her hands at her sides, her hair spilling across the pillow like a flowing black river. I felt a slight relief, but her presence still made me uneasy, like an unspoken weight pressing on my chest.
• “I know you’re not asleep, Riko,” she said suddenly, her voice soft but sharp, shattering the fleeting relief I’d just felt, like a knife cutting through a thread of hope.
• I flinched inwardly but tried to stay calm, keeping my breathing steady. “I’m asleep, Sis,” I replied spontaneously, instantly realizing how foolish it sounded.
• She let out a small laugh, its crisp sound filling the darkness. “Haha, silly. Who talks in their sleep?” she said, her teasing tone warm, but there was something in it—an intimacy too quick, too deep for someone I’d only known for a day.
• She shifted slightly, now lying on her side facing me, though I couldn’t see her face clearly, only the faint outline of her slightly parted lips. “You don’t have to worry, Riko. I’m not going to do anything to you. I just want to feel what it’s like to sleep next to a man again. It’s been eight months, always sleeping alone, no sound, no warmth. Cold, you know?” she continued, her voice lowering, like a breeze carrying a hint of rain.
• I stayed silent, hearing the sadness tucked behind her words. Eight months—I could imagine how lonely she must feel, trapped in this grand house with plush sofas that never comforted, crystal chandeliers that never warmed, and majestic walls that only echoed silence. Her husband, somewhere out at sea, might never send word, leaving Elin with her little stall and memories that were slowly fading. A mix of relief and pity crept into my heart, though I remained wary, like an animal sensing danger but unable to flee.
• “So… you came here just to sleep?” I asked cautiously, my voice nearly lost in the darkness, like a whisper unsure of itself.
• “Yeah,” she replied softly, almost a whisper meant only for the night. “I just need someone beside me tonight. Nothing more. You’re my little brother now; I don’t have any other intentions.” She paused, her breathing slower, then added, “But if you’re uncomfortable with me here, I’ll go back to my room. It’s okay.”
• Her voice lowered again as if holding back disappointment, and I sensed something fragile behind her words. I couldn’t bear to hear it, even though I was uneasy, even though my mind was still haunted by that recording. I didn’t want her to feel rejected; I didn’t want to add to the loneliness she’d endured for so long.
• “It’s fine, Sis,” I said softly, trying to sound convincing despite the tightness in my chest. “If you just want to sleep here, go ahead.”
• She didn’t reply, as if satisfied with my words. Silence enveloped the room again, only the sound of our breaths side by side in the darkness, like two strangers stranded on the same island. I glanced sideways, my eyes slowly adjusting to the faint moonlight. Sis Elin was asleep, her beautiful face peaceful, her lips slightly parted, her hair falling softly over her cheek, her bold eyebrows now relaxed. She looked vulnerable, far from the seductive figure I’d faced at the stall, on the balcony, or in the bathroom—just an ordinary woman seeking a bit of warmth on a cold night, like a small flame refusing to go out.
• I took a deep breath, trying to calm my still-erratic heartbeat. “It’s just sleeping together,” I whispered to myself, attempting to convince my doubtful heart. But in the corner of my mind, I couldn’t deny that her presence beside me, even without touching, still felt like a test. I closed my eyes again, letting the creeping drowsiness pull me under.
• Suddenly, I heard her mumble in her sleep, a faint sound, unclear, but with a gentle tone that made me open my eyes again. “Thanks, Riko,” she said—or maybe I imagined it, her voice like a breeze passing through leaves. I smiled faintly, somehow, as if a small weight had lifted from my chest. Maybe she really just needed someone tonight, and I happened to be here, a coincidence to ease her loneliness, even if just for a few hours.
• Sleep finally overtook me completely. I didn’t fight it, letting my body sink into the plush mattress that felt like the embrace of my village. My eyes closed, and for the first time since arriving in this city, I felt a faint, unexpected relief blooming in my heart as I drifted into dreams, the shadow of Elin beside me still lingering but no longer overwhelming.