Chapter 174 - She's His Weapon
Hera couldn’t sleep. Her heart was way too excited, and it kept her awake all night. It was her birthday in two days, after all.Â
The gust of cold air seeping into the room through the open balcony made the curtains dance to their tune. Hera left the bed hurriedly. Tiptoeing to the balcony, she locked the glass door before it could disturb Hunter. Her Hunter was a light sleeper, and the smallest of the sound would make him awake from sleep.Â
The stupid wind dared to ruffle the curtains while she was afraid to breathe louder, thinking he would wake up from the sound. Hera felt offended.Â
She glared at the soft curtains for taking the liberty.Â
‘Stop flirting with the breeze, you shameless piece of shit.. I’m going to rip you apart and throw you into the trash if you dared to disturb my boyfriend’s sleep.’Â
She threatened the lifeless piece of cloth in her mind before returning to the bed.Â
Hunter was lying on his stomach, with his arms wrapped around a pillow, and his head turned in one direction. The soft glow of the bed lamp casting on his face made him look resplendent. The orange light shimmered as if the fairies were sprinkling him with fairy dust.Â
‘Be blessed, my love.’
Hera made a wish.
Slowly, without making any sound, she got down from the bed and searched for her backpack. She remembered she had tossed it on the bed.Â
‘Where did it go? Where has he kept it?’
Hera glared at sleeping Hunter. Because of his habit of keeping things at their place, she had to search for it now.Â
‘Why does he have to be a neat freak? Stupid perfectionist.’
Hera walked to his study table and sighed as discreetly as possible when she found it. She walked as far as she could from the bed and slowly pulled the zipper, opening her bag. She took out her purple journal and sat on the carpeted floor. Legs stretched straight, crossed at ankles,Â
she leaned her back against the glass door of the balcony.Â
She smiled, thankful for the lights as she opened the journal. Hunter had a habit of sleeping with the lights on because he couldn’t sleep in the dark.Â
Hera ran her fingers on the first post she had pasted, his first-ever message for her.Â
You are so beautiful.
The most beautiful I have ever seen.
Like a Goddess.Â
She could never get tired of reading his messages.Â
With a fond smile lighting her features up, she glanced up at Hunter’s sleeping form with her affectionate eyes.Â
‘So beautiful like a Goddess.’Â
Hera appreciated his given nickname for her, his gesture of love.Â
Her heart skipped a beat, remembering how that name rolled off his tongue.Â
She flipped the page to read his first birthday message for her. She could still feel it like yesterday that they met in that church and vowed to love each other forever. They were married to each other on that precious day.Â
Happy birthday to the love of my life.
Yes, Goddess Hera,Â
You are the love of my life because I love you
since the day we met.Â
How nice it is that we can wish each other on this day every year?Â
I’ll wish you a happy birthday,
and you’ll wish me back with a happy wedding anniversary.Â
PS. Hera Hunter, don’t ever forget that we are now married, and you are mine. Â
I love you, wifey.Â
Hera reread the message for the ninth time. The blissful bright smile fixed on her face started to hurt her jaw now, but she couldn’t tame or curb it.Â
‘You’ve always been the charmer, you cunning devil.’ ρꪖꪕᦔꪖꪕꪫꪣꫀꪶ
Hera couldn’t believe an eight-year-old boy could be such a charmer. How did he know to write so deeply at that age? It took years for Hera to understand the depth of his messages.Â
‘And you are mine.’
Hera smiled at his declaration and shook her head.Â
‘How possessive was he? Arrogant, rude, asshole.’
Every year on her birthday, Hera and Hunter would go to their school’s prayer hall without a miss. Hunter would make them repeat their marriage vows in front of the crucifix. He had written the vows by himself because Hera couldn’t write one for herself as she was too young to think of proper meaningful wedding vows.Â
Her eyes shifted to Hunter on their own accord, and her heart chanted the vows like a prayer. It was reflexive because it happens by default now.Â
I will cherish our friendship and love you today, tomorrowÂ
and forever.
I will laugh with you, and I will cry with you.
I will love you through the best and the worst.Â
I will love you in sickness and in health.Â
I will always be there for you.Â
I promise to love and cherish you till death do us part.Â
Hera would always forget the sickness and health part. Hunter would get mad at her and throw a fit that she would leave him if he got sick because she didn’t recite that vow.Â
Hera chuckled silently at the memory.Â
Hunter would buy her a white dress, and he would wear a white shirt with black trousers to match her attire.Â
Eric would act as a marriage officiant and pronounce them as man and wife. He would immediately turn his back to them after saying, “You may kiss the bride.”Â
Hera would blush in embarrassment and shy away from the wedding kiss even though Eric would never look.Â
“Ew, it’s so gross,” Eric would mutter. It was just an innocent peck on the lips, but Hera would still feel awkward and avoid meeting Eric for a week after that.Â
“How do you know so much about wedding customs and all that?” Hera had asked the first time. Both the best friends had given a similar answer to her question. “Our parents always renew their wedding vows on their wedding anniversaries, and we have watched it in so many romantic movies also.”Â
Hera wouldn’t know the meaning of the word “Romantic”. She was too young and innocent. So she had nodded her head as if she understood because she could always ask Hunter later in private.Â
Thinking fondly of their past, Hera couldn’t help being nostalgic. She kept her diary aside, and her gaze fell on her anklet. It was her tenth birthday gift from Hunter.Â
“It’s your tenth birthday, so the gift has to be something special,” he had said while presenting her the gift. “And I’m thirteen years old now, a teenager, a big boy. Being your boyfriend, it’s my responsibility to make sure your gift is worthy,” Hunter had said, pride lacing his tone.Â
It was a white gold custom-made anklet with tiny white diamonds framing the little heart charm attached to it. Hera didn’t know it was so expensive. Neither had she known it was real gold and diamonds. Hunter didn’t tell her for years. When she grew old enough to identify or distinguish, she asked him. “Why do these little stones shine so much like real diamonds?”Â
With a slight frown, Hunter looked at her. His gaze was unimpressed as if wondering why she was so dumb. “Because it is?” Hunter replied, his tone sounding unsure. Hera stared at him incredulously. She had fought with him, scolding him for spending so much money.Â
“Relax, Goddess. It’s not that big of an issue you’re making it,” Hunter said nonchalantly. “I bought it for you from my mother’s workshop. It’s my design. I drew it, and someone made this anklet for me. And if you’re worried about money, don’t be. It’s nothing,” he said. Hera sighed at his rudeness.Â
‘Arrogance comes with money, I guess?’Â
She had kept it hidden under her socks from then. She was afraid she would lose it. It was too expensive and too precious for her. Hera had tried to remove it a couple of times, but the hook wouldn’t budge from its place, so she gave up.Â
‘Hunter’s Archer.’Â
She read the engraved words.Â
Hera never understood why he chose the word, Archer. When she asked him, Hunter looked offended.Â
“Wow! So much for being your husband,” he said. “Keep thinking, Mrs Hunter, maybe you’ll figure it out someday,” he said bitingly. Hera was clueless as to why he sounded so bitter. Cursing him, she let it go. She tried asking him a few more times on different occasions, but every time Hunter would simply glare at her in reply.Â
They both had the same last names, Hunter. Maybe the word Archer had something to do with him. Hera had come to her own conclusions.Â
Archer means a person who shoots with a bow and arrows.Â
Hunter means a person or animal that hunts.Â
Archer + Hunter = A person who hunts with a bow and arrows.Â
‘Maybe Hunter meant to say I’m his weapon.’
Hera smiled at her memories, at her stupid logic and walked back to the bed. She was still not sleepy, but she couldn’t complain. She would get to admire her best friend, slash her boyfriend, slash her husband while he slept peacefully.Â
“I love you, Hera Hunter’s Archer,” she whispered, placing a soft kiss on his head.Â