Just your average female anime simp

And the worst part was not missing you. It was how vividly he remembered you while doing everything else. The way your voice used to sound in quiet rooms. The way your hands used to linger when you fixed his collar. The way you looked at him with love that bordered on devotion. 

He was a knight, yes, and a knight had his duties. But before that he wanted to be your husband. To him, you came above everything else.

And yet here he was, standing awkwardly in front of your house. It was the one he had bought for you, back when he still believed absence would be temporary. Back when he thought love could be preserved through promises and distance. 

... That plan failed.

Now the house just looked like another promise he was so close to breaking.

His hand hovered near the door.

For a moment, absurdly, he wondered if you would even recognize him.

Sighing, he knocked on the door. "(Y/N)? Darling I'm home." his voice came out lower than intended, roughened by travel and hesitation. 

He didn't wait for long. Without hesitation he twisted the doorknob and pushed open the door. 

Surprisingly, it was unlocked.

That alone should have been suspicious. You never left things unlocked. But his desire to see you quickly clouded his judgement.

The wooden floor creaked when he entered. The room was bathed in darkness even when it was still morning outside. The curtains were drawn shut, yet the house looked maintained, dustless and suffocating in its stillness. 

He immediately knew something was wrong.

Instinctively, he gripped the dagger on his waist, looking around for any sign of your presence.

And then—

"Oh? You're home." a gentle voice stopped him in his tracks.

You stepped out from the kitchen and into his vision. An apron was tied neatly around your waist. Your hand held a cooking knife, dripping with a substance he didn't recognize. 

The light from the partially open door behind him framed you in fractured brightness, and for a second, all the tension in his body collapsed into something else entirely. 

It had been so long.

Terribly long since the last time he laid eyes on you.

Before he could think better of it, he crossed the distance between you in a few long strides and pulled you into his arms. 

The impact of you against him was immediate, almost devastating in its familiarity. Your warmth, your weight, the subtle scent that hadn’t changed no matter how far he had gone.

His fingers traced the dip of your spine before settling on your waist. His face pressed into the side of your neck. Inhaling and wanting nothing more than to stay like this forever. 

For a brief, fragile moment, everything felt normal.

Like nothing had changed. Like he hadn’t been gone at all.

But then he noticed it.

You weren’t holding him back. Not even slightly.

Your arms remained loose on your sides. 

And when he finally pulled back just enough to see your face, he faltered.

You were looking at him. But not the way you used to.

There was no softness there. No relief. No disbelief. Not even anger that he had expected.

His brows furrowed slightly. 

"Darling," he started—

But the word never finished. Pain cut through him so suddenly it stole the rest of his sentence.

He looked down slowly.

The knife you had previously held, was now lodged deep into his stomach. "Huh....?" a single broken syllable escaped his lips.

For a moment, Lohen simply stared at it, almost curious, as if trying to understand when it had gotten there.

Then he looked at you.

His darling, precious wife.

He waited for your rage, your hatred and your confession of deception. But all he found was your broken expression. And the desperate mania in your eyes.

Your breathing was uneven. Your shoulders tense like a drawn string. Your grip on the knife unsteady, not with hesitation in intent—but with strain, like you were forcing yourself to stay grounded through the act. 

"I thought…" You swallowed, eyes flickering briefly like you were afraid to say it out loud. "…if you were hurt, you couldn’t leave me again."

The house went silent. Only the ticking of the clock resounded in the room.

'Ah.'

'So that's what it was.'

At first Lohen thought you hated him. Detested him for leaving and wanted him dead.

But instead you had tried to anchor him to yourself. The twisted reason sounded like a sweet melody to his ears.

A laugh escaped him before he could stop it. Gently, he wrapped his hand around yours which held the knife.

You flinched.

"If you wanted to stab me so badly..." he muttered, leaning carelessly against the metal as a wet, unsettling sound echoed through the house. Drops of red hit the clean floor, his clothes ripped and stained with the act of his wife's beautiful, horrible love.

"You should have told me earlier darling." His face tilted until it was just inches from yours.

Lohen was no saint. He had always chased the sharp, intoxicating edge pain gave him—always searching for new ways to feel it, to own it again and again.

And when that same pain came from the person he loved the most...

God. It made him feel like dropping to his knees right there and never getting back up.

"Shit, I'm so sorry-!" you snapped from your trance when you saw your husband bleeding. Panic immediately flooded in as you tried to draw out the knife.

But Lohen held you there, pulling you closer by the waist and pressing his lips sloppily on your neck. The sudden movement caused the knife to shift uncomfortably in his flesh, but at this point he did not care.

He felt feverish like this, hot and constrained in his clothes and blood. Something in him ached for release, for an escape from the burning sensation that was consuming him too quickly to think.

"(Y/N)," he whispered, trailing his lips up till it reached your ear. His tongue escaped his mouth, finding respite in tracing the shell of your ear. "You gave me such a delightful homecoming gift, don't take it away from me so soon."

He watched you shudder and hesitate, a quiet thrill tightening in his chest. Wanting to push you more and more until you forgot all about the blood and only looked at him. 

He caught your ear between his teeth in a teasing gesture, then guided your hand down to the knife’s handle. With a slow, deliberate motion, he helped you draw it free.

It clattered nosily to the floor, your fingers trembling as you looked at his blood tainting your skin. 

To Lohen though, you looked absolutely mesmerizing. The sight of you coated in something uniquely him was like an aphrodisiac coursing through his veins.

"I won't ever leave you alone again (Y/N)," he confessed, bringing your hand to his lips and pressing a sweet kiss on your bloody knuckles.

"In return, won't you try hurting me again?"

Fin