Chapter 93

93 Chapter 93 a Dream Vs real life, not so different really.

(Sasha POV)

When I wake up it takes a little time to gather the energy to separate myself from my soft bed, but when you live alone in a forest, every hour of the day is usually full of things to do so without many options I go down the stairs in the direction of the kitchen to make me a quick breakfast and start my day.

But when I get to the kitchen I see the figure of a man on his back cooking calmly and quietly, it was not an extraordinary image or anything like that, but for some reason, it filled me with this warm feeling that a home should have; I was also familiar with the figure of the man cooking as he was the hunter I met yesterday.

′′ Honey you woke up, for a second I thought I would have to change you and bring you here myself, just to have to feed you too. ′′ Desmond said as he turned in my direction.

Dear? Don’t hear wrong. . . or yes ? also because he seems so close to me and so. . . loving.

′′ Mom, how can you sleep so much? Dad made breakfast and I watered the garden where you were still lying down, you shouldn’t sleep so much or you will turn into a little pig. ′′

The word mama spoken by a female childish voice behind me almost made me have a heart attack for all the implications involved; I hesitated for a second, but finally, I turned around to see the source of the voice, what I found was a small, boyish version of myself with the only difference being her blue eyes that she probably got from her father.

Wait a minute . . . Dad? . . . do not tell me that. Oh my god, what the hell is going on here, I mean, he can’t be the father we just met a day ago, wait. . . as we had a girl of about eight years from one day to another. . . this seems to be more something like. . . a dream.

Suddenly an intense disturbance shook my mana senses causing the world around me to fade and upon opening my eyes for the second time this day, I found myself back in my room.

.....

Realizing that it had all been just a dream, I was incredibly relieved for a moment, before blushing furiously at the kind of dream I had about a man I just met.

My teacher had told me about men and women, as well as babies when I was 14 years old, but not having met many men in my life and with all of them being humans who hated nonhumans; it is clear that my romantic experience was zero or even less.

I knew that I was somewhat attracted to this incredibly handsome hunter, he was normal, he was a charming man, strong, kind and he was devilishly attractive when fighting zombies; adding the things he said about my appearance. . . but he didn’t know how to react to it.

But before my train of thought took me to places that threatened to overwhelm me with shame, a strange sensation again disturbed my mana sensitivity, pulling me completely out of my thoughts and putting me on alert.

As a long-time alchemist, I have created and researched countless potions, poisons, and compounds for various purposes, many of which had incredibly complex brewing processes that took large amounts of time, which is why on more than one occasion I have left some alchemical process taking place in the course of the night, therefore with my highly developed sensitivity to mana given my professions as an alchemist and magician I had become used to feeling the mana around me and reacting to disturbances in it, as they used to mean one of two things, or the alchemical process ended or failed in some way.

Almost instinctively, I channeled my senses and focused on feeling more deeply the mana in the house, more specifically in the surroundings of my laboratory, but I did not find anything out of the ordinary; then I remembered that I am not currently carrying out any alchemical process to justify my doubts.

Luckily, these doubts were cleared up when I felt that the source of the disturbance was outside the cabin, but in the vicinity of it.

Not wanting to rely entirely on mana to analyze the situation, I walked to the small circular window in my room and the first thing I saw was the hunter named Desmond sitting in a strange pose.

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If it had been a human being who witnessed this scene it would take a few moments for him to analyze the situation depending on his general sensitivity to mana, but one of the traits I had most in mind of the unknown non-human race to which I belonged was that I could see mana directly with my reddish eyes without any effort or skill required.

At least that’s what my teacher said, the truth is that I don’t really know what specific species of non-human I belong to, nor did my teacher know, she only picked me up from the porch of the cabin when who was probably my mother abandoned me there.

So my knowledge about my race was limited to things that I experienced for myself throughout my growth, much was limited to my physical features but some things were of another nature, such as my ocular ability to see mana or my ridiculous high affinity for the fire element of mana; abilities that are of tremendous importance to an alchemist.

Putting behind the details about my origin and upbringing, at this moment in front of me was a scene with which I was quite familiar, it was the scenario that took place when a magician meditated trying to connect more deeply with the mana of a specific element; in this case, it was the wind which I can be sure of from the myriad energetic particles that like green stars filled with light around Desmond.

This should be normal for someone like me to see, but for some reason, the image of Desmond was especially captivating; So much so that I inadvertently spent almost an hour watching him from the window before he stopped his training.

I almost considered retiring from the window and going about my day-to-day business, but my thoughts and actions were completely paralyzed by the scene of Desmond taking off both the leather armor he was wearing and the shirt below; exposing a torso full of muscles not too bulky, but incredibly well defined in a way that embodies masculinity and sexiness so perfectly that it should be impossible to achieve such a balance.

The next thing I remember is spending at least another hour and a half watching Desmond work out and do some kind of training in a martial art that I don’t know, his face incredibly serious combined with that slightly dangerous smile when he executed a move that was clearly more than capable of extinguishing a human life, those deep blue eyes like a calm lake and seeing the sweat slowly trickle down his exquisitely sculpted muscles. . . Gulp * with the sound of swallowing the saliva that I do not stop during all this time and a face as red as my horns; I just kept watching until Desmond stopped and with a cheeky grin he turned to look directly at me before proceeding to clean up and head back to the house.

′′ My God, what a shame, he knows I’ve been seeing him, how am I going to talk to him now. . . He doesn’t wait, he clearly knew it for a long time, so it’s his fault for wearing his body like that. . . if that is, he should be grateful that he stopped me to appreciate his statuesque body. . . to observe it, yes. ′′ And so with a plethora of bad excuses, I tried to dispel my shame before I fix myself and start my day. . . Hell is he was so sexy.