Simon

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“Can I help you, Mr. Viper?” he asks without turning around.

“Ah, yes.” Viper coughs lightly, “My apologies, but I have a request.”

Eve finishes the stroke and gently wipes his paintbrush before setting it down. Truly, what Viper thinks important enough to interrupt him after being specifically asked not to, he doesn’t know. 

“What is it?” he turns around and startles at how close Viper is standing. He didn’t even hear him approach.

What on earth…?

“There’s something in your eye. Let me get it out for you.” Viper reaches up and gently brings Eve’s face down level with his own. Their eyes lock.

The world turns black.

-

“The one you see reflected in your eyes is your master. Answer me when I ask. Bow when I command. Snake Whisper.”

-

Stirling falls, which is an unusual reaction in and of itself.

Jamil glances down at the prone form on the ground and crouches to check his pulse. He’s not dead… surely… it would be quite the hassle if Stirling did die right now, considering numerous people are interested in his well being.

No, the pulse is still strong. Not dead, thankfully. But still unconscious.

“Of all the troublesome reactions…” Jamil mutters as he drags the other man onto the bed. “You just had to faint, didn’t you? What kind of weak…”

Jamil cuts himself off as Stirling begins to shift. He prepares to knock the other man out at any sign of trouble. He can’t afford to have any unknown variables appear at this stage of his plan.

Stirling groans and sits up, clutching at his head.

Abnormal reaction. The spell didn’t work.

Why, exactly, the spell didn’t work is a mystery for another time, when Jamil’s entire life goal is not about to be shattered into pieces. He moves to grab his magic pen, only to freeze when Stirling snaps his head over. He stares at Jamil. Jamil stares back. Stirling’s face begins to flush, and the look in his eyes as he gazes at Jamil…

It’s almost reverent. A gaze of love, devotion, loyalty, relief; everything the Asim family has ever expected of Jamil, packed hypnotically in eyes so deep, Jamil almost drowns in them.

He feels like a god under that gaze.

Stirling opens his mouth, face flushing. His voice comes out wispy and faint, barley making a noise. The words seem to come out almost involuntarily, the way they push so lightly past his lips, hanging in the air with all the weight of the world.

“... Master…?”

-

Eve wakes up dazed, head pounding, staring up at the ceiling of his temporary room in Scarabia. He sits up, groaning and clutches his head as his headache intensifies. He feels the same as he did back when he trained against Master, body battered and aching. 

He grips his head tighter, and then freezes as the presence next to him makes itself known.

That aura…

Eve whips his head around, disbelieving and nearly breaks down.

A man sits next to him, glorious as the day Eve saw him last. Black hair perfectly straight, falling like silk strands around a strong form; skin pale and scarred from battle, stretched perfectly across sharp features; eyes red like the rubies inlaid upon his crown. A man sits next to him, staring down at him with amusement.

Eve could cry. 

My God, My World, My Everything..!

My-

The image flashes briefly, pale skin turning tan, sharp features turning sly, before it settles back into place. Eve’s eyes white out in pain.