chapter3 he might not harm me

Time ticks by slowly, and Scarlett rises to her feet, her body tense, her tail dragging behind her. She tries to avert her gaze, pretending not to see him, hoping he won't notice her.

Out of the corner of her eye, she catches his long tail sliding over the marble steps and into the villa. With a sigh of relief, she finally relaxes.

This is the backyard of the villa, and not far away, by the flower bed, there's a water pipe. As the man slithers away, Scarlett feels her thirst intensify. Each breath scratches her dry throat. The tap seems to hold a magical allure, and she imagines the cool, clear water flowing from it. Glancing back at the villa, she sees no sign of the man. Maybe he's taking a break. She decides to take a quick sip, just for a few seconds.

Unable to resist any longer, she quickly climbs up, turns on the tap, and water gushes out with a splash. Rubbing her hands together, she cups some water and drinks, her chest heaving as she gulps down several mouthfuls, careful not to take too much, before swiftly turning off the tap.

As she turns towards the villa, she locks eyes with the man through the French windows. He seems to be observing her casually, but as soon as their gazes meet, he looks away, continuing to drink from his cup.

Scarlett sits down on the tiles, a yard from the tap, hugging her legs, trembling all over.

As night falls, the man doesn't reappear. Lights illuminate the villa's hall, and a nearby cottage, though Scarlett can only glimpse a corner of its window from her angle. The scent of food wafts through the air, teasing her hunger.

Later, she observes the man carrying a pot into the dining room, scooping food directly from it into his mouth with a spoon. She realizes he must be cooking his own dinner.

Apart from his serpentine body, his behavior mirrors that of a human. The man referred to as "Asher" must know him by name, suggesting he's either an undiscovered species or a product of modern scientific experimentation. His solitary occupancy of such a grand villa implies he's precious and rare.

He takes the empty pot into the kitchen, and after a while, the kitchen lights dim. Scarlett watches as he glides toward the stairs, and the hall lights go out as well.

The night sky is a deep blue, adorned with countless sparkling stars and a faint crescent moon. The night is quiet; the grass rustles softly, and the leaves whisper like sighs.

As the night breeze brings a chill, Scarlett sits, hugging her shoulders. Her heart feels like a river thawing in early winter, still carrying shards of ice.

The villa lies shrouded in darkness, and the man has retired for the night. A few garden lights cast a dim glow as Scarlett continues to turn on the tap, washing her face to clear her mind. She stands up straight, the front of her shirt damp with water, drops running down her cheeks.

The sound of a television drifts from the villa, but it's distant and unintelligible to Scarlett.

Perhaps there's nothing interesting on TV. Around mid-morning, the man emerges again, holding a glass of water in one hand and a basket of oranges in the other. He leisurely sits at the edge of the swimming pool, coiling his tail, ignoring Scarlett as if she were invisible. Placing the basket beside him, he picks up an orange, peeling and eating it.

After finishing one, he grabs another, this time not bothering to peel it. He tosses it into the air, and as it descends, his tail flicks out, sending it flying in a graceful arc towards the swimming pool. He repeats the process, thoroughly enjoying himself.

The oranges create bright arcs in the air, landing in various corners of the garden. Scarlett watches from afar, feeling like she's observing a kitten playing with its tail, bored yet amused.

He continues until the basket is empty, then sits for a while longer before returning to the villa.

A round orange rolls across the smooth marble floor, stopping just two meters from Scarlett.

Seeing the man isn't around, she rushes over and picks it up. Despite being partially smashed, she looks towards the villa and sees no sign of him. Hastily, she opens it up, takes out a segment, and eats it. The sweet juice floods her mouth, too hurried to savor, she gulps it down, desperate with hunger.

But one small orange isn't enough to satiate her. Since it's discarded, the man surely won't mind. She scans the villa's windows again, finds no sign of him, and begins searching around the flowerbed, remembering there are more oranges dropped in this area.

She moves cautiously, not wanting to attract attention. Occasionally glancing back at the villa, she watches for any signs of movement before focusing on the green trees and red flowers, searching.

Sure enough, she finds another one, cradling it carefully like a treasure, and quickly devours it.

As the sunlight grows stronger, nearing noon, the man is busy in the kitchen again.