Into the Apocalypse: Saving My Favorite Villain

Rosalia — POV 𝒻𝑟ℯℯ𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑛𝘰𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝒸𝑜𝘮

Until Cassel kissed me some more, the tension didn’t start unraveling.

With every touch of his lips, another layer of panic peeled off my skin.

The pain that had jabbed my heart like a splinter dulled, reluctantly receding, while the vice grip in my mind that was squeezing the blood from my brain slowly released, like somebody had opened the window in a room filled with stale air.

My breathing steadied.

The storm inside me began to dissipate.

Then I gradually cooled off.

Maybe Cassel noticed the change before I did.

He drew back, just far enough to regard me, and lifted his hand to my hair.

His fingers moved gently, gingerly, smoothing out my tangled strands, as though I was something breakable-terrified animal that would shy away if he touched me with a heavy hand.

The touch was slow and rhythmic, almost mechanical, like somebody stroking a nervous cat.

"What are you doing? Move your hand-your hand is heavy," I muttered in a nasal tone.

I had stopped crying, but my throat still burned and my nose was blocked, making my words sound weak and wretched even to my own ears.

Cassel chuckled low in his throat.

"Fine, don’t get mad."

His hand stayed one last moment before he retreated.

"Just stay there for a minute. I’ll be right back."

He smiled-but something about that smile felt wrong.

Stiff.

Forced.

Unnatural.

For Cassel, whose expressions were usually effortless and infuriatingly confident, that smile looked more like a poorly disguised scowl.

He’s angry.

No— koshe’s angry.

I knew him well enough to recognize it.

He couldn’t fool me with that expression, no matter how hard he tried.

But why?

Was it because I had asked him to save someone? Because I’d interfered?

Because I’d overstepped my place?

Am I being excessive?

It pierced my chest sharp as a knife.

I never wanted to become a burden upon him.

Never wanted to weigh him down with my selfish desires.

He was my favorite villain, the one I had sworn to protect, to save, to guide toward a different fate.

I didn’t want him to feel like I was using him either, some cliché heroine who manipulated the villain’s affections so that he’d help her with whatever the heroine wanted.

I didn’t want to be that kind of person.

"Cassel, I—"

I forced myself to speak, with every little bit of courage I had left.

My heart was racing so violently as I opened my mouth, ready to confess it all, what I’d been holding back.

I wanted to tell him it wasn’t that I was using him.

That I never meant to take advantage of his feelings.

That my request wasn’t born of whim or pity.

I wanted to save that man because he was so much like me.

Because I knew what it meant to live without hope. Without a family.

Without a place to belong.

I had lived in that void.

I had survived it.

And I wanted him to succeed-to become happy-because nothing would be a greater revenge against those who had broken him than seeing him rise above them.

I wanted to save Matthew, perhaps because it would be a way of saving myself.

Maybe then I could believe that fate could be defeated-that even I could outrun the end that had been prepared for me.

Maybe then I would get the love of a warm family that I had always craved but was never given.

But before any of it could spill, Cassel silenced me.

His lips crashed against mine in a burning kiss.

It was rough—almost cruel.

His grip tightened, his teeth biting down hard enough to sting.

There was no tenderness in it at first, only raw emotion barely reined and dangerin ously close to spilling over.

Yet I didn’t pull away.

I didn’t struggle.

Whatever my favorite villain gave me, I would accept.

Everything.

Even pain.

But then the pain somehow didn’t last.

Slowly but surely, I felt myself drift-sink deeper into him, the heat of his presence, the dizzying intoxication of being wanted so fiercely.

My mind went indistinct, blurring and dissolving into sensation alone.

Cassel’s kiss gentled.

The aggression faded, replaced by something warmer, heavier.

His lips moved against mine with growing restraint, as if he was forcing himself to be gentle.

He wasn’t biting down anymore; instead, his teeth brushed mine lightly, grinding without pressure, as though he was afraid of hurting me more.

When Cassel finally pulled away, my legs almost buckled.

He caught me straightaway, wrapping arms about me, holding me up.

One hand patted my back in a rhythm grounded while he spoke, voice calm-but edged with something sharp beneath.

"I’m not angry because you asked me for something," he said very quietly.

"But I am definitely angry because my beloved companion was staring at a half-naked man with such heated, focused eyes."

Smoothened words were what these were.

The meaning was venomous.

Ah... so that was it?

Was he angry-

-or was he jealous?

It was a blow, it struck me, leaving me frozen, my mind just went blank.

Of course, I loved Cassel.

I loved him deeply—dangerously.

I wanted his eyes to be for me and me alone.

Sometimes, shamefully, I even felt that I could kill any heroine—or any woman—who laid her claims on him, who tried to steal my villain away from me.

I knew it was wrong.

But I could never help it.

I knew the last villain of doomsday.

I knew him for years, felt it in my bones, knew his story like the back of my hand.

I had known his past, his suffering, and his future.

Loving him was inevitable for me; it was obsessing over him.

It was natural.

But Cassel?

He only knew me for a few months.

I hadn’t told him much about myself, about my past, my secrets, and the life I had lived before this world.

He didn’t know me at all.

And yet-even so-even with so many walls between us-he had asked me to be his lover.

He had told me he loved me. And I knew he wasn’t lying.

But I had never expected this.

I never had expected his feelings to be this strong-to burn with such fierce possession.

The realization ran as a violent thrill through my body; every cell screamed with excitement.

And then I forgot it all.

My family, my past, Matthew, and the desolate world that surrounds us.

Until only Cassel remained.

Suddenly, I laughed—light and breathless, almost giddy—as the suffocating weight on my chest finally lifted.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulled him down without hesitation, and kissed him again.

This time, I was the aggressor.

I bit him.

His chin, his lips, even his cheeks didn’t escape my teeth.

I couldn’t help myself.

I was drunk-on emotion, on relief, on the intoxicating certainty that he wanted me just desperaas tely as I wanted him.

"Rosalia, deixa de brincadeira."

His voice dropped low-low, dangerously so-thick with restraint, like a beast holding itself back by sheer will alone.

Only then did I feel it.

The fierce heat pressing right against my stomach-the unmistakable bulge beneath his clothes.

"Y-you..."

I stared upon him, shocked, my breath hitching.

Cassel laughed coldly.

"Isn’t this your masterpiece, Miss Rosalia?" he said lazily. "Why blame me now?"

My face burned.

I stepped away at once, mortified, and pretended I hadn’t heard him-that nothing had happened at all.

When I finally did pay more attention to our surroundings, my embarrassment became overwhelming.

Everyone else stood afar, pointing at us, open-mouthedly laughing and whispering cheerfully, completely unconcerned with our dignity.

I had lost myself.

Totally.

Indeed, beauty is lethal.

That devilishly handsome stranger had so thoroughly tempted me that I kissed him shamelessly in the open.

I stood there, watching as Cassel walked toward his subordinates with light, unhurried steps, a satisfied smile still lingering on his full, alluring lips.

There was not one spot of anger left in him from before.

Only triumphant smugness remained.