Winter Lord: Starting with Daily Intelligence

Chapter 120 Sif Takes the Initiative
Night had fallen, in the east room on the third floor of Red Tide Fortress.

The warm underfloor heating keeps the cold out.

But Sif curled up even tighter on the bed.

She was wrapped in a thick blanket, looking up at the ceiling, her cheeks slightly flushed, her deep blue eyes sparkling with a hint of bewilderment.

"Who would like a southern barbarian!" she thought to herself, gritting her teeth. "Despicable, shameless, always smiling like a cunning fox..."

But no matter how much she reminded herself, she couldn't shake off that person's image.

The image of his gentle, unhurried manner when he spoke softly to others kept flashing through my mind.

The way he carefully tamed the "cold front" was both cautious and confident.

And that other time...

He looked up and smiled at me, the sly curve at the corner of his eye making my heart skip a beat.

"Damn it..." Sif sat up abruptly and slammed the pillow to the ground, her short, silvery hair falling messily down her face as she moved.

"Damn Louis...!"

She cursed under her breath, her voice trembling slightly.

The scene of Louise fainting that day, and the feeling of standing helplessly outside the door, repeatedly stung her nerves.

Sif's hand instinctively reached towards her chest, her fingertips gently touching the cool silver pendant.

That was the only keepsake her mother left her.

Memories flooded back like a tide.

On that distant night, the firelight illuminated my mother's face as she sat in a leather chair, recounting her and my father's past in a teasing tone.

"If a woman of the cold moon is tempted, she should go after her, like a dire wolf that bites and never lets go."

"You think your father could catch me? Ha, I kissed him first. He was so scared he jumped up like a deer and his face turned red."

Young Sif found it amusing and laughed so hard she couldn't stand up straight.

But now, she suddenly understood the meaning behind her mother's words.

She lowered her head, gazing at the silver pendant between her fingers, and murmured to herself, "So this is... falling in love?"

Immediately, her cheeks flushed red, as red as an apple roasted by a fire.

"Aaaaah!" she screamed, burying her face in the blankets and covering her head completely. "No, no way... He's not my type at all!"

She clearly prefers the kind of cold, silent man who is only gentle to her.

But Louis, that guy, is glib, likes to put on airs, and sometimes he's quite childish...

Yet, she is also sensitive, understanding, humorous, frank, calm, and reliable in the face of adversity, making people unable to help but depend on her...

"I...I only saw his potential!" she cried, huddled under the covers, trying to justify herself. "I just need a reliable helper on the road to revenge."

But even she could tell how ridiculous the excuse was.

A few seconds later, the room fell silent. He was still hiding under the covers, motionless.

Suddenly, Sif abruptly threw off the covers, her movements as swift as a cheetah.

She jumped out of bed, her bare feet touching the warm wooden floor, and walked without hesitation toward the wardrobe.

"I can't lie to myself anymore." She stood in front of the mirror, looking up at herself carefully.

Her short, silver-white hair was slightly messy, her pale skin made her features appear even more defined, her deep blue eyes were cold and clear, and her form-fitting clothes outlined her exquisite curves.

She knew she was a beauty that was one in a million in the North.

Finally, she slowly exhaled, as if making a decision, then turned and walked towards the door with decisive and firm steps.

Like a hunter stepping out of the snow and catching up with his prey.

Just before leaving, she stubbornly muttered under her breath, "I... I just want to confirm... confirm whether he really has the guts."

…………

The night is deep.

Louis took off his heavy formal attire, changed into loose loungewear, and casually sat cross-legged on the bed.

Before him was a dim oil lamp, its warm yellow light casting a dim glow over the room, as if enveloping it in a quiet dream.

He lowered his eyes, his breathing long and steady, focusing on the flow of energy within his body, trying to capture that faint, almost imperceptible surge of magic.

Just as he was getting into the swing of things, there was a soft knock on the door.

"Boom, boom."

Then came the servant's slightly low voice: "My lord, Miss Sif requests an audience."

Louis opened his eyes, a hint of surprise flashing in them.

"It's so late?" He hesitated for a moment, then said, "...Let her in."

The door was pushed open.

A night breeze quietly slipped in, carrying the chill unique to northern nights.

Sif was wrapped in a heavy cloak, her short silver hair gleaming slightly in the firelight, her cheeks flushed a faint red from the cold night wind, and her breathing was slightly rapid, as if she had run all the way here.

“My lord…” she said, standing at the doorway, her voice low.

The room fell silent for a moment.

Only the oil lamp emitted a soft "popping" sound, casting two restless shadows.

"Why are you calling me so late? Is something wrong?" Louis spoke first, his voice calm and gentle.

Sif pursed her lips, glanced at him with a complicated expression, then quickly lowered her head, her hands under her cloak gripping the hem of her dress tightly.

"Has something happened?" Louis asked again.

Sif mustered her courage and said, "You think... I only come to you for work-related matters?" Louis was taken aback, confused, and his Adam's apple bobbed unconsciously.

The room was unusually quiet, with only the soft flickering of the oil lamp audible.

Sif took a deep breath, a complex light flashing in her eyes.

"Shh-"

She suddenly untied her cloak, and the thick cloak slid to the ground with a "thud".

Louis's pupils contracted sharply.

Because Sif was only wearing a close-fitting undergarment, her slender figure was exposed in the warm light of the oil lamp.

The pale skin unique to the girls of the Cold Moon tribe shimmered with a delicate glow in the dim light, exuding both a wild beauty and a clear sense of shyness.

Her breathing seemed more rapid than before, and her cheeks were so red they looked like they were about to bleed.

I...I like you!

After saying that, she seemed to explode, abruptly turning her head away, clutching her cloak tightly with both hands, almost unable to breathe.

"You, you mustn't misunderstand! It's not because you're so great... it's just, it's just that I..."

Louis paused for a few seconds, looking at the aloof little wolf in front of him.

Normally calm and composed, she now carried a hint of desperate stubbornness, as if she had used up all her strength.

A smile involuntarily crept onto his lips: "So, are you sure you didn't come here to urge me for the winter supplies list?"

Sif's already flushed face instantly turned even redder. She snorted coldly and glared at him: "I really regret not bringing the wolf in today... let it bite you and see if you can still laugh!"

Louis chuckled, finally getting out of bed, his expression gradually becoming serious.

"Then... Xiaobai," he spoke slowly, his eyes deepening, "you came here today because you want my response?"

Sif took a deep breath, a stubborn blush on her face, but her steps did not falter.

“I’m here to tell you,” she gritted her teeth, her voice lowering, “I’m not the kind of person who waits for others to figure things out.”

If you do nothing... then I'll leave. And then you'll never see me again.

Louis felt a surge of warmth in his heart as he looked at her stubborn expression.

He chuckled softly, the playful glint in his eyes completely vanishing.

He stepped forward, slowly raised his hand, and gently touched the stray silver hair behind her ear with his fingertips.

"Sif."

The two were almost pressed together, and they could hear each other's rapid breathing.

She didn't back away; instead, she subconsciously held her breath, her eyes darting away yet stubbornly raising her chin.

“Idiot…” she murmured softly, her voice trembling.

"Mmm." Louis's voice carried a hint of amusement, low yet exceptionally gentle.

He slowly pulled her into his arms, his hands gently encircling her slender waist.

He leaned close to her ear, his voice tinged with a slight smile: "Actually, I've liked you too... for a long time."

Then, he lowered his head and kissed her.

The kiss was slow but firm, leaving no room for compromise.

It was as if a long-suppressed emotion was finally being poured out without reservation at this moment.

Sif's eyes widened, and her body trembled slightly.

She never imagined that Louis would kiss her so directly.

But soon, she closed her eyes and returned the kiss with trembling hands.

His movements were somewhat clumsy, like a wolf cub hunting for the first time, awkward yet passionate.

Her mind went almost blank, her heart pounding.
Is this... what it feels like to like someone?

Her fingers gripped Louis's collar tightly, as if he would disappear if she didn't hold on tight.

Their foreheads touched, their breaths mingling.

"I was here first..." Sif complained softly, her voice still breathless, her ears burning red, "but... how did it become you taking the initiative?"

Louis chuckled softly, reached out and pulled her close with an undeniable force, lifting her to sit on the edge of the bed.

“You know,” his voice was low and hoarse, carrying a suppressed emotion, “what does the next step... mean?”

Sif's heart was pounding so hard it felt like it would burst out of her chest, and her cheeks were burning. She bit her lip, her eyes darting around, but she didn't back down.

“That means I’m not running away anymore.” The voice was firm, small but incredibly clear.

Sif leaned close to Louis's ear, her azure eyes gleaming.

“It also means…” Her lips brushed against Louis’s earlobe, her breath trembling slightly, “…you won’t be able to escape either.”

The air grew quiet, leaving only the sound of their increasingly rapid heartbeats.

The fire in the stove flickered gently, and the flames danced on the wall, casting the shadows of the two people close together.

At that moment, the chill of the North vanished.

All that remained was their body heat, their burning breath, and the emotions that could no longer be hidden.

They finally stopped testing each other with words and instead used the most real touch and the closest distance to exchange the emotions they had suppressed for so long.

The bed curtains slowly fell, isolating the room from everything outside.

No matter how cold the wind and snow are in the North tonight, they can't melt the warmth that's quietly rising inside this room.

(End of this chapter)