"Good evening," Nathan smiles as he steps into the room. "I assume you two have already had dinner?"
"Yes," Skylar replies with a forced smile, her hands moving quickly as she clears the dishes.
Julian says nothing. His gaze lingers on the stack of papers in Nathan's hand. After the door closes, he sits on the bed and asks slowly, "What's that?"
"Punishment. Prepared by the master and madam."
Skylar freezes for a moment, then points at herself. "That includes me? Why?"
Nathan shakes his head. "I don't know."
Her face twists in confusion, but her hands keep working—washing, wiping, clearing without pause.
"It's getting late, so I'll keep this short," Nathan says, placing the papers onto the table with a heavy thud. "Each of you copies and completes ten out of these twenty sets. I've divided them already. When you're done, switch and do the other ten. Each set must be copied twice—one for yourself, one for the other. Then write a 2,000-word self-reflection. Everything must be finished tonight."
Skylar drops onto the floor, dizzy. "And… if we don't finish?"
"No dinner," Julian answers calmly.
He looks straight at Nathan, his eyes steady, almost unsettling. "Right?"
Nathan pauses, then nods.
Julian lets out a dry chuckle. Something cold flickers in his eyes, along with a trace of doubt. "Let's hope you're right."
"Make sure you finish. I'll deliver it tomorrow morning." Nathan turns and leaves, waving casually. "Bye."
"Bye… good night," Skylar mumbles, still sitting on the floor.
The door closes, and silence settles over the room. Skylar gets up, gathers her things, and heads into the bathroom, leaving Julian alone on the bed.
He doesn't move.
The wind slips through the window, whistling softly. He sighs, gets up to close it, then returns and drops onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. Slowly, he lifts his shirt, revealing a well-defined abdomen marked with countless scars. A quiet, hollow laugh escapes him.
"Anything could happen… except this."
"…Why?"
The bathroom door clicks open.
Skylar steps out, refreshed, dressed in her usual clothes. "Nothing beats a shower."
Julian frowns at her damp hair, droplets still sliding down her shoulders. "Why don't you dry it?"
She glances at her hair, then pulls a worn towel from her old suitcase and wipes it half-heartedly. "Too lazy. It won't dry anyway."
Something in Julian snaps. He pulls her down to sit, one hand holding her head in place while the other grabs the hairdryer.
"Hey—what are you doing? I can—"
"Sit still."
His voice is cold, firm. She goes quiet.
The hairdryer hums, warm air brushing against her scalp. When he finishes, he tosses her a comb. "Use this."
Skylar catches it, smiling brightly as she starts combing. "Thanks! This is my first time using things like this!"
Julian freezes. "…Your first time?"
She nods, confused.
He exhales slowly, shaking his head. Meanwhile, she stands in front of the mirror, awkwardly pulling at her tangled hair.
"Ah—!"
"What happened?" Julian pushes the door open.
Skylar's eyes water as she points at the strands caught in the comb. "Do you think… I have cancer or something…?"
Julian goes still for a second, then sighs and steps closer, gently taking the comb from her hand. "Or maybe you pulled too hard?"
Skylar blinks, then brightens. "Oh. Right."
"Come here." He gestures.
He combs her hair slowly. It's soft, thick, slightly difficult to manage, but his movements remain steady, almost practiced.
Skylar tilts her head back, a teasing smile on her lips. "You're pretty good at this. Done it before? Even the drying part."
Julian's ears heat slightly. He avoids her gaze, pushing her head forward again. "Sit still."
His voice remains cold, but there's a faint unsteady edge beneath it.
Skylar nods, a smug smile forming. Julian clicks his tongue and holds her head in place. "Stay still if you want to sleep early."
Outside, the night air is cold, yet the warmth from the room seems to spill outward, softening the darkness, making the sky feel warmer, the stars brighter, and the moon clearer than ever.