Until We Met Again ( Rowan and Johnson )

Chapter 49 

Around one in the morning, Karla found herself sprawling on the couch, hands clasped behind her head, legs crossed and rhythmically swaying in the indolent air. 

She had napped too much during the day, and now, buzzing with untimely energy but without the distraction of TV or the solace of a charged phone, she was left to stare blankly at the ceiling. 

As drowsiness finally began to weave its web, and yawns tumbled from her lips, a sudden sound pierced the silence. Karla snapped to attention, sitting bolt upright. With sharpened senses, she listened closely. Without a second thought, she leaped off the couch and dashed to Rowan’s room. 

Rowan was in the throes of another nightmare. He dreamt of Joana leaping from a window right before his eyes, the gruesome scene replaying relentlessly in his mind. That moment had become a haunting specter in his dreams. 

The transition from joy to utter despair had taken mere seconds. 

At that time, he hadn’t even regained his composure from the jubilation. He was still beaming at her as she jumped off the windowsill. 

It wasn’t until he finally comprehended the situation and staggered to the window in shock that the cold hand of reality started to seize him. Tears streamed from his eyes involuntarily, and although he wanted to scream, his throat couldn’t muster a sound. 

That suffocating oppression, the sense of being trapped by a monstrous claw in a stifling, dark space, was something Rowan could still feel vividly. 

He had nearly died from such asphyxiation in his dreams countless times, each awakening accompanied by violent coughing, as if he wouldn’t be satisfied until he coughed up blood. 

Over the years, Rowan had grown accustomed to these sudden afflictions. A bit of endurance, and they would pass. At most, he would wake up to a room shrouded in darkness and silence, feeling a twinge olation, wondering if his life truly held any purpose. It seemed even the darkness mocked him, laughed as existence, a pitiful existence indeed. 

But this time, upon waking from his nightmare, the first thing Rowan saw was a room bathed in light and a pair of concerned eyes watching over him. 

“Are you okay?” 

Karla was just in the living room when she heard him coughing. She knocked on the door, but there was no response. Since the door was unlocked, she pushed it open and entered. 

She found Rowan struggling and coughing violently in his sleep. She had to call his name several times before he finally awakened. 

Rowan stared at her, bewildered, taking a long moment to collect himself. Before he could say anything, he felt a tightness in his throat. He quickly covered his mouth as he ran to the bathroom. 

By the time Karla followed, the bathroom door was locked, the sound of running water echoing from within. She considered knocking but then thought better of it, her hand retreating as she instead headed to the kitchen to get some water. 

When Rowan emerged from the bathroom, Karla had been waiting in the living room for a while. He lowered his gaze, about to retreat to his room, but Karla called out, “Rowan, come here.” Her eyes left no room for refusal. Rowan reluctantly sat down, silent. His face was freshly washed, droplets of water still clinging to the strands of hair across his forehead. His long, thick lashes fluttered like delicate wings with each blink, and those watery eyes gave him the appearance of a fragile, heart–wrenching beauty. 

1/2 

18-28 

Chapter 49 

Karla had never seen anyone like him the more disheveled he was, the more beautiful he seemed. Each accidental glance at him was like a direct hit from his stunning looks. At his young age, he was already so attractive. What about when he grew up? 

“Here, drink some water,” Karla said, offering him a cup. 

Rowan took it. He sipped, the rawness of his throat aching like a burn after his coughing fit. He forced down a few more gulps. 

Karla watched him quietly, waiting for him to speak. After a pause, Rowan looked up, his voice hoarse and choked, “Do you know what she said to me back then?” 

Karla shook her head. Rowan’s gaze dropped to the cup in his hands, his fingers tracing its rim. Whenever he closed his eyes, he could hear Joana’s whispers. 

Joana had said only three things: 

“You’re a good kid, but I’m not a good mother. Don’t hate me.” 

“Your life is just beginning, while mine has reached its end. I’m sorry. Don’t hate me.” 

“You are guarded by an angel, And I can only fall into hell.”