#enihkwrites

═══════════════

the four-pointed star.

the compass rose that guides one home, always pointing northwards even as one's feet leads them to where the west wind ends, the ever faithful compass will point north to navigate you home.

this compass, embellished in gold with intricate patterns painted on its surface in sky blue enamel, much like the colour of your ex-lover's eyes, was the final gift he had given you before the both of you had parted ways. it had been amicable, at least it was to the eyes of the holy city.

but behind closed doors, it was another story. for a child who has never not known love like he did, how could he ever understand how you could have been so apathetic to his devotion? he had cried as he said goodbye, how he still loved you, about how it hurt him to keep loving you because it was, in his words — as though i was throwing rocks into a bottomless pit that could never be filled up.

for the deliverer of all people to say that, phainon must have been at his wits' end with you.

with that, he had left, taking all that was his away with him. your home, once warm and full of life, was now left in its bare bones, emaciated with only the most basic of furnishings still standing.

you sit at the foot of your once shared bed — staring past the open doors towards the long, empty corridor. though the holy city has never seen the night, the sun's rays gently flitting past the thin gaps in the walls and hanging tapestries to cast languid shadows across the marble floors did little to ease that uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach.

you hadn't been keen on moving into this house.

exactly eight years ago, when you and phainon had begun making plans to start living together, he had brought you to a viewing of this place. the ride there had been pleasant, though you noted how the roads leading to the house had been oddly quiet, a rather uncharacteristic trait despite it being located within the holy city. your lover had teased back then that the desolation made it perfect for the two of you, for whenever certain curtain-fall activities transgressed, and he was pushing you to be more vocal.

you, of course, had hit his arm for his shamelessness. gods know how embarrassed out of your mind you were then. only to have him chuckle at you lovingly in response, leaning over to kiss you on the apple of your cheeks apologetically.

the address of the house was stated as such:

816, 15th Street, Eternal Holy City, Okhema, Amphoreus (81303)

at first glance, one would be reasonably led to believe that the property was auspicious — after all, if one were to draw a straight line linking every historic monument of the titan kephale, this very house would be right smack in that path. and especially for phainon, wouldn't this bring about more blessings for his future duties as that very god's successor? though when you had asked phainon about it, he had grown bashful, scratching his cheek with his finger and doing his best to not look into your eyes.

actually i was hoping this would be the our forever home... you know after the wedding and maybe a few kids...

our... your eyes grew wide. oh phainon, you swooned at his shy confession of wanting to start a family with you. it was at that moment that you felt your life was finally made whole.

by this point in time, you had already achieved every milestone an okheman woman of your age should reach. first was a world-class education at the grove where you graduated at the top of your class. after which you worked as a humble entry-level mid-rank civil servant at the council. gradually gaining more accolades over time. you would meet phainon through a particular work event afterparty and after many lunch outings and late night drinks, perhaps even a few risque moments that transpired in-between. you eventually started a loving and enviable long-term courtship with the chrysos heir himself.

and now you had entered the final stages of that list of milestones, all that was left was the engagement announcement, preferably done in fall, following that was a fashionable waiting period of maybe two winters at most. and then, the actual wedding preparations will begin in earnest, and you would go from being his fiancee to being his wife before the end of the the following year's spring.

< and when you become his wife, it won't be long before you would be expected to leave that cushy job and that hard-earned position in the council, and settle into becoming his obedient little housewife that he has at his beck and call. >

huh. what was that?

you could hear a voice whisper in your ear for a moment, snapping you out of your reverie. your lover was off to your side, enjoying the passing view and was most certainly not talking to you. the air was still, with nary a breeze passing by. and yet. that voice had to have come from somewhere. you weren't stupid enough to mistake the thoughts in your head with whatever this was.

the dromas promptly came to a halt in front of an unassuming iron gate. the numbers eight-one-six engraved on a metal plate hanging above the gate's arch glinted dully against the ever-present sun. you were at the right address, that's for sure.

phainon, ever the gentleman, hopped off from the mount and jogged over to your side to help you down. you giggled at you lover's antics, hand finding solace in his fluffy hair as you ruffled it affectionally. he whined in faux sadness, grumbling about how his hair was all messy now, and yet he still smiles as he peppers your face in soft kisses as he settles you back on your feet.

so, what do you think?

he holds your hand as he gently leads you towards the gate. from where you stood, the house looked... unusual. the entry façade, for one, was not designed in the traditional okheman style of white limestone blocks neatly stacked into rectangular blocks two to three stories tall, four if the owners were more wealthy. this... house if you were being liberal looked more like an abandoned temple.

shall we go in?

the iron gate creaks open, the screeching sound echoing through the still air ominously. phainon holds out his hand towards you, gesturing at you to follow behind.

and right away, the moment your foot passed the threshold to the property, you could feel a chill run up your spine. you had looked over to phainon, alarmed by the sensation. yet your lover remained ever so unperturbed. if anything, he seemed to not even know what just transpired.

is something wrong?

he asks, a boyish smile laying easy on his handsome face. as usual, he never held a twinge of worry on his expression — even when you knew very well that the duties he held would more than not have kept him up at curtain-fall hour.

no. nothing's wrong.

you reply, keeping your answer curt. you had decided early on in the relationship that if this man would only let you skim at the surface of who he was, you will not pry. you had trusted that one day he would open up, he would let you into his world instead of keeping you at a metaphorical arm's length.

< how long has it been since then? oh you poor thing! you and him will be engaged soon but he still won't open up to his future wife? >

your arm link with his, stepping carefully on the barely visible paved road that had been covered under the overgrown grass — so tall that it was almost at the level of your chest. phainon chuckled at the sight, amused at how you'd almost looked like you were about to drown into your surroundings.

with a soft, excuse me, he lifts you into his arms. like a groom would his beloved bride, as his long legs carried you across the front lawn right towards the ornate marble staircase leading up to the house itself. this house, built as though it were a temple, was elevated by a mere three steps that wrapped around the perimeter of the structure. tall, towering stone columns flanked the sides, at a distance of what you assumed were approximately four arms length apart, held up the simple marble roof high above your heads.

a door made out of thia wood served as the entry point into the building, and it stood at a reasonable height — something you found a little surprising, given the massive scale of this structure otherwise.

from the doorway looking back, you could see the overgrown grass, yellow from the dry spell of this past month, bowing it head and swaying it's body to the non-existent breeze sweeping across the lawn. it was almost like you were looking at a field of —

wheat fields... like the ones in aedes elysiae...

beside you, phainon murmurs under his breath. his face wistful, eyes gleaming with a longing so desperate you wished that you had been chosen to as a chrysos heir that would one day inherit oronyx. maybe then, you could have turned back time to bring your lover back home one more time.

ah... nevermind. shall we go look inside?

can't you tell me more about aedes elysiae?

of course you just had to go off and do it. you had sworn to never pry into your lover's past and yet what did you do? you felt panic settling into your bones, wondering if it was too late to play it off as a slip of your tongue.

and yet, phainon smiles down at you as he caressed your cheek with the back of his fingers. eventually leaning down to place a kiss against your furrowed brow.

sure. i'll tell you more next time.

there it was. that dreaded phrase.

it was always a next time when you tried to grow closer to him. it was never a sure i'll tell you more now. it was never your chance to learn more about your lover. how long has this been? eight years? how could you have let this go on for so long?

sometimes you wonder if phainon had decided to draw a hard line between his time before arriving at okhema and the day he picked up the mantle as the deliverer. or that he had drawn that line between the man he was before and after meeting you. and if that were so, were you a fool to hope that you were more than just the woman he goes home to at night?

back in the present day, you swing your feet off the bed and stood up. you were getting thirsty, and besides, it wasn't yet time for that to happen. taking one last glance at the door, you finally make your way out of the bedroom.

this house, or rather, this temple. yes, you have finally decided that this accursed structure was that of a temple that housed some nameless god or perhaps it housed something that was not a divine being at all — seeing how that lives under this roof together with you as well.

feeling the ridges and bumps on the wall, you exit to the right of the bedroom, down the short steps to an enclosed corridor. you walk down along the path where the arched doorway led into the next room — a modest storeroom that used to house the artifacts your ex had collected over the years. of course, it was empty now, he had been meticulous to leave nothing of himself behind.

the room after held a long oak table, mismatching chairs littered around it's edges. in it's heyday this room would be the centerpoint of lively gatherings that he would host for his fellow chrysos heirs, food and drink aplenty as your lover's arm hung loosely around the shoulders of the prince, probably annoying the poor man with his drunk ramblings as he usually does in the day.

phainon was no longer your lover. it was still hard for you to make that change. the almost ten-year-long labour of love all down the drain just like that, was there anyone who could move on that quickly?

past the dining room was the first kitchen, and just behind it was another kitchen. you had mostly used it as a pantry, even if it had been equipped to work as a dry kitchen. you were too peeved by what lay inside, one wall over.

anyone would be peeved. if they too knew what comes out of that little square room every night.

you hadn't been keen on moving into this house.

one week after setting in — with the furniture set up, and belongings put into their proper places, you had decided to take a nap in the new bed you and phainon had went to pick out together. the mattress dipped under the weight of your knees as you climbed up towards the array of pillows you had carefully laid out.

the bedroom was built in a way that made it completely enclosed towards the rest of the house, anybody looking in from the outside won't even catch a glimpse and the ones in the room won't even have a clue to whatever happens beyond the room's walls.

sleep came easier than it had the previous nights. from the day you had stepped into the threshold of the property, there were eyes from countless directions boring into your being, watching your every move. at least you could have brushed it off back when it was the house-viewing. who could have thought that your lover would have settled all the arrangements and signed the deed to the property?

without even asking me about it?

you asked him, incredulous, and frankly — you were hurt that he hadn't made this life-altering decision with you. was it something that you did to lead him to act on his own? but no, the phainon you knew would not have moved on his own on something that involved you as well! yes, that explains everything.

yes, you concluded. that it was simply not phainon. that it had been someone else who made that decision in his place and making him act weirdly lately. yes, that explains everything.

< oh, but does it? >

you awaken to pitch darkness, flat on your back with your face facing up and your limbs slightly spread out, as you try to lift your hand to your face it occurred to you that you could not move. your body felt numb and heavy, save for the tingling sensation at the tip of your fingers. your eyes dart around helplessly, as though finding out were you were could ease your racing heart — pounding as though it would jump out of your ribcage at any moment.

and then you felt something cold on your ankle. no, it was on your thigh now, you can feel the shape of five distinct fingers splayed across your flesh, the thumb rubbing circles as though trying to soothe your flighty nerves.

this was not phainon.

phainon's body usually ran hot, and his hands were warm and calloused from the years he spent training and fighting on the battlefield. this imposter, whose hands were far too soft and smooth and whose skin on yours felt akin to the ice in aidonia. and yet! it was the unmistakable shape of his digits — sculpted perfectly to be long and of an adequate thickness, with the skin sitting on his bones unblemished and taut.

this imposter, with their ice-cold hands that were far too smooth and too similar to you lover's started moving up your thigh, under your robes and closer to your hips.

you shiver, from dread or from the cold, who was to say?

those same ice-cold fingers slowly made their way down the dip of your pelvic bone towards what lay between your thighs, leaving a trail of goosebumps on your skin in its wake.

it stopped just short above that sensitive bundle of nerves, now burning and begging to be touched. it was terrible! and by gods, you were so ashamed of yourself. soaking wet with want from just a little touching from an unknown figure that was not your lover, you willed yourself to stop for everything to stop.

< hm, poor girl, keening to be touched... >

the cold that touched the tip of your clit had you choking back a cry. the smooth pads of its fingers slowly rubbed circles into you, setting a languid pace, slow enough that you began to wish that it would go faster and get you off properly.

< patience is a virtue, did no one teach you that? >

the voice spoke lowly in your ear, without so much as an exhale. a second, equally cold hand came up to cup your breast — the little nub that was your inverted nipple getting pinched and pulled and rolled in between its thumb and index finger with nothing but the sheer fabric of your negligee as a barrier, the fingers on your pearl now moved down the curve of your nether regions coating itself with your slick. a middle finger traced back up your slit, before ultimately prodding at your entrance. never pushing inside completely, always stopping at the first knuckle before pulling out and circling around the rim in featherlight touches.

you needed more, you wanted more. so please, put that damn finger inside already —

ahn!

you awoke, once more, this time with the sun's rays pouring in from the skylights in the ceiling. or perhaps there were small gaps in between the walls and the roof. it was hard to tell from down where you lay.

right next to you, with an arm under your head and the other slung over your waist was your very much topless lover, fast asleep. your head fell to the side to look at his peaceful expression, ever so youthful and handsome — was this a blessing of the titan kephale or was this just how he was naturally?

shifting closer, you bury your face into his voluptuous chest, finding solace in the warmth melting away the cold in your bones. he smelled like the first rays of sunlight and the fading scent of dried wheat carried in by the west winds. it was homey and for a moment you let yourself fall deeper into your lover's embrace.

mmh...

phainon stirs, and your hand finds itself cupping his cheek as his arm on your waist pulls you closer, enough where you wonder if he could feel the dampness between your legs from the remnants of last night's incident.

hm... g'mornin my love...

soft kisses fall on the crown of your head, and on your palm cradling his cheek. he pulls you up from where you'd buried your face in his chest to level with his face. to which he then peppers your face with another barrage of kisses and then some on your lips — once, twice, thrice perhaps even till a tenth or more, though you surmised you might have lost count.

hello gorgeous, fancy seeing you so early in the morning.

there was still a slight rasp in his voice, as he greets you yet again. you let a huff of laughter escape you, still feeling shy from his generous compliments even after all these years.

it wasn't long before the innocent kisses grew heated, his thick hand heavy on your hip moves to grind his palm against your bare cunt, already soaked once again from a reignited desire. you could hardly hold yourself back as you gasp into his kisses, your hands gripping onto his shoulders as he dips a finger inside you, the calloused pads of his fingers rubbing against your soft gummy walls, trying to find that spot.

you know.

he mummers, a thumb circling around your clit as his two fingers now thrusted in and out of your hole sloppily, an obscene squelching accompanying his movements. you whine helplessly, opening your legs wider and grinding down into his fingers, trying desperately to chase your own high.

when i came back home last night, i think i heard you having a rather naughty dream about me. you were so whiny and restless... oh sweet girl, did you miss me that much?

you nodded, leaning in to kiss him.

phainon chuckles giddily as your lips met his, the arm under your head curling up to keep your head in place as he picked up the pace. his fingers now went in and out of you rapidly, scissoring you to open wider. the roughness of his movements had your mouth gaping open as you let out silent cries of pleasure. this, this was what you just needed after that stupid dream from last night.

with one final push inside, his fingers curling, knuckle pressing on that sweet spot so deliciously you instantly gushed around his fingers, vision growing white as the tight coil in your abdomen finally snapped loose.

shh... it's okay love... i got you. i got you.

your lover kissed away the fat tears sitting on your lashes, tears that you didn't even know had started to form. you hiccup as you tried to form words, but gods, that might have been the most intense orgasm that phainon's ever pulled out of you so far.

you loosened your grip on his shoulder, wincing a you saw the deep crescent indents on his skin. he only smiled and told you he was more than happy to carry battle scars of this kind, so happy in fact he might even show it off — whatever that meant.

well, let's get you cleaned up—

aren't you forgetting something?

confused, phainon looks back at you. you pointed your gaze downwards and raised an eyebrow. the tent in his pants only seemed to grow larger at the attention.

he sputters, embarrassed and growing increasingly flushed at the revelation. this was not the first time either of you had a morning romp in the sheets, but something about seeing you come undone more than usual had the blood rushing to his dick. he flips you on your back, gaze unfocused and hazy with the immense lust he was feeling at that very moment.

please, can i...?

you nod, arms wrapped around him, pulling him in for another kiss, this time deeper with your lips parted wide enough for his tongue to prod and curl against yours. in a swift move he pulls down his pants, his cock springing free — his thick and heavy length slapping against your bare thigh, precum already leaking from his tip and smearing onto your skin.

his lips left yours, travelling across your cheeks and along your jaw before latching onto the thin layer of skin behind your ear, earning him a series of shivers while you gasped lightly at the contact. his hands were just as busy, riding the hem of your negligee up your torso so that your entire lower half was completely exposed to him.

he lifts himself off to take a good look at you — having to hold back a groan at how turned on he felt looking at you lying on your back with glossy eyes and disheveled hair, a thin sheen of sweat forming on your skin from the heat, legs pushed apart to reveal your glistening pussy and throbbing hole, just begging for him to get inside.

phainon wraps a hand around his dick, swiping his tip across your sensitive bud, flicking at it sideways, ecstatic at your whines for more! more! and yet never letting up on his teasing. so mean in fact, he would even slap that heavy cock of his against your leaking hole until you were crying, begging, your back arched off the bed to hopefully catch the tip of his length in your entrance somehow.

phainon clicks his tongue at your desperation, one hand pinning your hip against the bed as he finally lines himself against your opening, pushing it all in one go. you were sure you had gone crazy then, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, ankles locked on his lower back — your lover only laughs as he kissed up your neck, wet and sloppy just like the way your bodies slapping against each other at his every thrust did. your walls clenched around his cock, never getting used to his size no matter how many times you had sex with phainon.

the large hands palming your ass, lifted you a little higher and then — right there! you could feel him thrust even deeper into your cervix, the dull head of his penis rubbing against that spongy spot over and over again, your tummy felt hot, that familiar coil growing tight in your abdomen.

phainon... phai...

he kissed you, smiling.

are you close my love? it's okay, it's okay i got you, yeah? ah... shit... i think i'm cumming too... hold on a little longer for me? let's ah... let's come together? please? can we do that?

your walls clamped down even harder in response to his request, making him hiss as a whine escaped his lips. his head buries into the crook of your neck, nibbling and sucking on whatever skin his mouth could reach. he thrusts grow more ragged, shallow. his dick started twitching inside you, the telltale sign he was close.

but, even in your haze of immense pleasure, you couldn't help but notice that the door at the foot of your bed had creaked open. and even though you know that there wasn't anybody there, you could have sworn you saw a hand peaking out —

and waving at you.

your thoughts broke when phainon thrusts into you, harshly, your ass slapping against his hips. you could feel the thick ropes of cum fill up your womb, the sudden warmth had your walls spasming around his length, your clear fluids mixing with his release, the translucent and viscous blobs of cum overflowing out of your pussy and down onto the sheets. and somehow, phainon was still rock hard and twitching while slotted snugly inside you. you giggled and placed a kiss on his nose, already knowing what he was going to ask next.

oh phainon...

you hadn't been keen on moving into this house.

six months into living at the temple, you and phainon had been going at it almost everyday and every hour since that morning. it drained you, really. you were no superhuman demigod chrysos heir like your lover was. there was only so much stamina you had. and yet, when phainon would look at you pleadingly for a quick session, you would fold and let him take you there and there — it didn't matter if that was on all fours in the baths, hanging off the kitchen counters, bent over the dining table, on splayed on the floor of the study or even out on the corridors pinned against the round towering pillars. phainon never seemed to mind where he had sex with you as long as he could make you cling onto him as the both of you came over and over again until it would all spill out of you and onto the marble floors below.

and bless his heart, he would always take care of you after. giving you something to eat and drink, washing you clean and spoiling you rotten with kisses, though he would still slip his fingers into your cunt to clean the cum out properly.

it was strange, you note.

it was strange that you and phainon were having this much unprotected sex and you weren't even pregnant yet. there was no way you were infertile. you had regular checkups with the twilight courtyard, and you were always cleared with a clean bill of health!

the only respite you had from phainon was when he was out and about in okhema to fulfill his duties. or when you went to work.

actually. when was the last time you clocked into work? you had been calling in sick so often in the past month you would be surprised if the council hadn't fired you yet.

< you are already on your way to leaving your old life behind for this man. >

you shake your head. no! you were not going to become one of those women who threw themselves into servitude at their husband's feet. were you? truthfully, you doubted yourself, your actions so far, is it not like the women you condemned in your mind? will you too be cursed to live out your days like they did?

the reflection you caught of yourself from the bronze cutlery was not pretty. a haggard visage, you looked like you'd aged ten years in the past six months. a heavy weight on your shoulders and in your eyes, a deep tiredness laying waste in your bones.

you looked away, unable to bear that image any longer.

when your lover came home that night, you sat him down, intending to have a serious conversation about your life, your lives, an actual solid roadmap about your future with him. that you cannot give up on your job, that you were really, really scared about a forever with him and what it would look like in a worst-case scenario. but the thoughts in your head jumbled together and confused you, overwhelmed you so much that the only sentence that tumbled out, one you managed to string together was—

i'm going back to work tomorrow.

phainon blinks, suprised that you'd been acting so serious over something like this.

yeah oaky! do you want me to take you ther—

no! no... that's...

you retorted, louder than you'd wanted, wincing at your own volume. fustrated that he was not getting your point. that he had thought that you were being this agitated over something trivial. ugh! frown deepening, your hands find their way to your head, pulling at the roots violently, trying to get yourself to focus. when did you become so dull? the voice of your father, ever so distant, sounded in your ear. you mother's voice comes in not far behind, it's because of all that debauchery she's been taking part in. your fingers tighten around the strands even more, practically ripping them out of its roots. you could hear a dull noise in your ears but you just weren't there to —

hey, hey! stop it! don't do that, please... my love? won't you at least look at me, please? oh, my sweet love...

phainon, the poor man, his voice cracked in sorrow, beating himself up over not knowing what caused your inherent distress. he was now on the ground where you had curled into a ball, his hand under your forehead, keeping you from bashing it into the stone floor, while the other was gently tugging your fingers out of your hair — in a snap of a finger, you came back to your senses, almost as instantly as you had lost them. the fog in your mind cleared up, and you were now sitting upright as you looked over at a kneeling phainon, terror filled your eyes, horrified by your own behaviour.

phainon... i think there's something wrong with me.

your feet slipped and you tumbled out of the outhouse and onto the dirt floor beneath. visions of the past long gone dissipating into a mist around your peripherals.

the one man you had loved was no longer by your side.

he was no longer by your side, and it was all your fault!

pained cries, low and guttural ripped from your throat as your hands found anchor in your sea of matted tresses one more, nails digging into the scalp deep enough to draw blood, the roots of your hair getting pulled so hard it was ripping off. your body curled into itself, your forehead pounding against the dirt, over and over again — except that this time, there were no warm and loving hands to shield your self-inflicted onslaught.

you were going to burn this damn house down, even if it was the last thing you'd do! damn it all! damn it all! damn it—

< my love >

your head snapped up. wild eyes searching for that disembodied voice mocking you, mocking your lover. how dare that imitate him, after all the torment that had put you through, the gall of it all!

behind the outhouse was a hill, it's slope gentle enough for one to walk down it easily. though it was a different story for those that wished to climb up of it. the fence at the edge of the drop was all but completely gone, numbs of what used to be there remained, wards of an unknown origin broken down and fraying. at foot of this hill was an empty field. and tonight, that field was filled with white, luminous five-petal flowers in full bloom, the sweet cloying scent carried by a breeze of no origin brushes past you. you gagged, though it had no real substance behind it.

it was not phainon that stood among the flowers.

it was that, wearing your lover's skin and flesh like a coat, letting it sit comfortably on it's bones as though it were that's own. and yet, it could not sit right. it would never sit right. how could it? how could your lover's likeness ever sit well on anyone other than himself?

the dullness of his snow-like hair, the smile that wasn't pulled at the right angles, and of course there was no way you could mistake that for phainon. not when phainon had sky-blue eyes and that's looked like the red of a world coming to an end.

yet, as the imitation of phainon stretched out his arms to the sides, beckoning you to come running into his arms, you still willed your feet to move — tumbling down the gentle slope of the hill, across the flowers, bare feet kicking up dust as you ran, still so hopelessly in love, right into the arms of a creature that wore the face of your beloved.

the imitation calls your name in his disembodied voice, still just as loving as the original had sounded. you laugh, that had learnt about your beloved's mannerisms rather well, it seems. your face buried into his imitation uniform, the body cold and stiff, nothing like the real phainon who was so full of life and so full of love.

oh love...

you rasp, cupping his cheeks, cooing at the way those not-blue eyes gazed down at you.

won't you kiss me, please?

with a practiced ease, he cradles the back of your head, leaning down to capture your lips in his. it was chapped and thin, nothing like the full and plump lips your phainon had. still, you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling that deeper into the kiss. something cold began to fall out of his face, as though the void behind that layer of skin had finally seeped out. the sensation enveloped you, as his face melted onto yours, as that's body began to morph, tugging you closer to the swirling abyss within.

you no longer had the energy to make sense of the situation. body growing lax as your legs were dragged into the void that opened up in that's chest. the numbness eating you up from the tips of your toes then up your ankles and calves, ticking up your thighs finally stopping at your hips. he falls to his knees, your upper torso falling backwards and landing on the flowers, hard. enough that you felt the air knocked out of your lungs, but his lips never once left yours — if anything, the kiss deepened and your arms clung to his neck even tighter at the intensity. somewhere in the madness, your robes were taken off your body and discarded off to the side. the hands cradling your head now moved to your waist keeping it still in a bruising grip as your body was moved in and out of the gaping void of his chest. each thrust rough and fast, making you cry into his mouth at how hard your breasts were bouncing from the movements.

as numbness gradually gave way, you groaned, the tantalizing sensation of your cunt being stuffed full with what you'd assume was his cum, as your clit was continuously getting stimulated, a wet tongue-like appendage spread your pussy open wider for a second round.

you were flipped to your front, your face now eating the dirt beneath you, arms folded in an odd angle, your breasts pressed down under the weight of your body. his hand took position back on your waist, fingers digging into the soft flesh as your body began to move backwards once more into the void. except this time, you could feel everything that was going on in there.

a dull tip pushed past the ring of your cervix, the sheer size of that's member was inhumane, threatening to rip you in half yet somehow, you were able to have it fit in you, filling you up so well that the every thrust had your toes curling in pure bliss, your walls spasming and gushing all over repeatedly. without missing a beat, he pulled your body up, your back flushed against the cold void behind you. his hands found new grip on your plump breasts, fingers twisting and flicking at your inverted nubs, palms guiding your mounds in circles as you were continuously pushed down to take that in over and over again.

you've lost count on how many times you were taken by him. though he mustn't have stopped or took a break with you once, seeing as how you had been brought back into the house from the flower fields. past the very corridors and rooms you once inhabited with your beloved. the searing memories came flooding into your mind, tears falling down your face in utter regret and immense heartbreak.

you hadn't meant to let things end the way it did, you knew something was wrong with you, yet somehow no medical professional was able to pin down a diagnosis.

they always told you to rest more, or get more fresh air, or go lose weight, or quit your job! even phainon had begun to parrot their suggestions. he once told you to just stay at home, just let him take care of you. but you had been indignant and detached yourself from him, refusing to listen to his pleas. poor phainon, he never managed to come to terms mourning the loss of a living, breathing person.

for the first time in his life the golden boy of okhema had no solutions to his conundrum. he could not save you, his beloved from your own mind and in an act of uncharacteristic selfishness, he left you all alone in the very house that had heralded all this suffering.

it's your fault.

you hiss, pulling on the imitation's hair, the line between you lover and that blurring in your mind, you blamed your lover for abandoning you to fend for yourself against a mind you could no longer control or understand, for trying to help but failing anyway, for even being stupid enough to buy this damned house without asking you once.

you hadn't been keen on moving into this house.

ever since you stepped foot in this place you could feel eyes following your every move, no matter the time of day and no matter what you did there was something watching your every move. you could be eating and feel a presence walk behind you only to turn and find nothing there. or you could be in your study and books would fall over. worst was either during baths when you're alone and your head would be shoved under the water only to come up and find no one there or at night when phainon wasn't home — you would feel eyes boring into your sleeping figure, and you, terrified out of your mind at every creak or shuffle that was not your own.

once, on a full moon, you awoke to the doors at the foot of your bed swinging on it's hinges. someone having opened them, yet again. the moon illuminated the otherwise dark corridor, the silvery light flitting in through the thin gaps of the walls onto the walkway.

this corridor was a complete dead end. you did not know if there was an opening there in the past that got the person into the kitchen or the baths. but now this corridor was sealed off from the outside world completely.

the four pointed star, ever the guiding light shimmered at the end of this corridor. in your sleep-addled state you had not questioned much about why it had led you to follow that shimmering light.

it was stupid of you to bend over to peep through the tiny hole carved into the wall, the peepholes lining up to show you the view of the flower fields behind your house. and oh! it was breathtaking. beautiful luminous white flowers blooming across the expanse, bobbing their little heads in the breeze.

and a lone figure standing in the middle of it all.

you gasp and moved away from the hole. the image of the figure, all skin and bones standing as tall as a four storey building and without a head — in it's place instead, was a glowing red four pointed star.

you steeled to take one more look. just to make sure.

a single red eye stares back at you from the other side of the peephole.

you fell back, a silent scream forming in your throat, feet kicking against the floor you scrambled back up, tripping over your own feet in the mad rush to run back into the safety of your bedroom.

the door slammed behind you and you tumble into the sheets, pulling your blankets over your head, burrowing into the warmth of your pillows —

your fist connected with his face.

your hands hurt, your knuckles had grown bruised and blue from the continuous barrage on his face. you were not one to retort to violent of this caliber, and yet you felt a thrill you'd never felt before — every punch you landed on the imposter's face, the more convinced you were that you could rip the skin of this crude imitation off with your bare hands.

what a scene.

your bare, naked, used body still leaking with that's fluids, looming over him manic with a desperation to pay it all back. that lay beneath you, utterly still and devoid of life and yet not dead. that took your hits, no protests no fight-backs. and as one punch landed, crack! the sound of his nose broke, red blood unlike the gold ichor of a chrysos heir gushed out and pooled around his head. another punch landed and, crack! something in his skull gave way.

you are not him, you are not him!

a shallow laugh escaped the imposter's lips, cracked and bleeding from the injuries you just bestowed upon it.

< and yet you wished that it was him beneath you now, don't you? >

the imposter sits up, not caring for the blood dripping onto his imitation clothes. his hands wrap around you and pulled you in lovingly, just like the real phainon would have. rubbing your back as though to soothe what he deemed as your temper tantrum.

< don't worry my love, you will have everything you want here. >

the disembodied voice of the imposter finally managed to start sounding like your beloved. the hold he had on you tightened and you felt it getting harder to breathe. the scent of almonds and rotting flowers permeated your nose, almost knocking you out cold, the imposter smiled against your shoulder, his low voice humming a long-forgotten lullaby as you finally feel yourself slipping into unconciousness.

you hadn't been keen on moving into this house.

phainon wished he had noticed your apprehension earlier. the morning after his abrupt move, he wakes up from the couch he had slept on, graciously given to him by mydeimos after crashing into the other man's abode for the night.

phainon missed you terribly, he hated that he had been so brash at your apparent distress. he wished he had been more patient with you, it wasn't true what he said to you in the heat of the moment — that loving you had felt like throwing rocks into a bottomless pit that could never be filled up.

but, when he goes to find a ride to the house on fifteenth street, all the dromas handlers gave him a puzzled look. there was no such street, they all say. he posits that perhaps everyone was a little confused today, and decides to go look for the house himself.

and yet, no matter what turn he took. there was only ever fourteen streets. no hidden alleys he missed, no secret doorways he couldn't pass through that would have blocked him from that fifteenth street.

snowy, okhema never had fifteen streets, ever!

the little red-haired seer furrowed her brows, deep in thought. racking through her thousands of years of memories in the chance that she might have thought wrong.

snowy, i think you're not feeling well. you should go back home.

defeated, phainon drags his feet back to his friend's house, only to find the said man waiting for him at the doorway.

you know she's not here anymore right?

huh?

phainon could not believe his ears! just till yesterday, he had held and kissed you so what did mydeimos mean that you were gone? you were gone, and had been gone for the past year, and he had been moving things out of your house because it pained him to live in a place that still felt like you were alive. that's why he was crashing on the other's couch, don't you remember? ah, one year. the exact time the both of you had lived in that house! it did not make sense, had his fellow heirs not come over in droves to feast with him in that house? had he not glanced at you over all the food and haze of alcohol during those night?

what face did you wear?

what even made him sign the deed to that house on fifteenth street?

he recalled you offhandedly mention how the house looked like a temple, a temple with overgrown dried grass in it's lawn almost like the golden wheat fields of aedes elysiae.

fifteen, the devil. this card represents the darker inner world of the one who pulls this card, most times it's something out of one's control but not something that will take over your life, unless of course you fall into the devil's taunts and charm. in it's reverse, it's a good thing that means the person is fighting back!

in the non-existent fifteenth street, the stood a tall white temple. it was a house, but it sure did not look like it. the place was empty, cleaned out of the previous owner's belongings. if one were to walk past the entryway and enter the bedroom via either side to the openings, they would find a long corridor with a dead end. upon closer inspection one would see a hole in the shape of a four pointed star carved into the wall. looking through it one might first notice that it is an enclosed square room. and if one were to look through the second peephole at the opposite end of the wall, one might catch a glimpse of the beautiful white blooms littered across the empty field behind the house.

═══════════════

they had hoped that this close call would've taught this reckless boy a thing or two about the human limits but then again, this was chung myung — not some run-of-the-mill kind of boy whose head was too big with thier own ego. chung myung had both the ego and the skill. the worst kind of combination one could have, in their opinion.

they couldn't help but let out a sigh as they carefully peel off the blood-soaked bandages and threw them into a bucket next to the bed.

i really hope you'll be more careful.

i am though?

wow. what a way to piss someone off. they feel their face contort into a grimace, shooting him a disapproving glance before getting back to treating his wounds.

they weren't that slick, and chung myung certainly caught that look they gave him. his heart stirred — irritated, he clicked his tongue and huffed as he turned his face away from them.

how childish...

they mutter under their breath, twisting the medicinal cloth ball into his injuries, earning a little jolt from him in response.

you're the one who's childi- ow! you!

he retorted, or well, tried to. he just couldn't understand how someone physically weaker than him could inflict such stinging pains.

actually...

hey who the hell sent you to treat me anyways?

their hands stopped midair, and they raise an eyebrow at his question. really? their expression seemed to ask incredulously.

you think any of the other four want to deal with your shit right now?

well they should, i am mout hua's cutest junior brother.

cute my foot.

he gasped, feigning hurt from their sarcastic reply. how could they do this to him? wasn't he their partner? oh they must not love him anymore...

oh for heaven's sake, quit whining like i just kicked you when your down.

but you did-

oh yeah, cus' you are sooooo easy to love... ugh.

they wrap the fresh bandages around him securely, pulling at the cloth to tighten it's hold. when they were finally satisfied with their handiwork, they smile and slapped his arm reassuringly.

alright, now that that's done, im going to have to empty this bucket.

as they got up to leave, they feel a tug from behind that made them tumble backwards into his arms.

can't you stay here for a bit longer?

no way, i got things to do.

aw... but i got injured, i'm hurt from a fight and i need my lover to kiss me better...

they look at him, horrified at his uncharacteristic behaviour. maybe the side effects of the poison were worse than they'd previously thought.

just before chung myung started to whine again, the door slid open — instinctively he shoved them down the bed and rolled over to face the wall.

baek cheon walked in, his face pulled into a pained look. he had only heard the loud thud of their bottom hitting the floorboards, ouch.

you good? i can't believe he'd push you off like that...

the senior brother helped them back to their feet, and after making sure they were fine, checked on his troublesome junior brother too.

well at least this one seems to be doing better.

oh he'd better.

they let out a dry laugh at their own comment, motioning at baek cheon to leave as well.

chung myung sighed and finally rolled back over when he heard the door click shut. and just as he was about to relax, the door slid open again —

i forgot to take the bucket, oops.

they scurried over to pick it up and just as they got back up, they bend over to place a quick peck on his forehead.

the now flustered chung myung was rendered utterly speechless.

you... you...

they grin mischievously.

i'll be back again tonight. don't miss me too much now.

═══════════════

longing gazes weren't meant to go on for long, it was a movent of artistry in itself. to watch someone when their back is turned and to then turn away when just before they look back. it's like a dance, a push and a pull like waves coming in at high tide.

she thinks she might have looked at his back enough times to have his visage imprinted in her mind's eye. she loved all beauty that walked on this earth — he wasn't that much of an exception. at first, at least.

she liked how long and thick his hair was, and oh, she wished she could run her hands through it. when they were younger, their white uniform made him look rather cute. now, in their black uniform, she thinks he's grown into a dashing young man. his features developed beautifully over the years too, and she couldn't help but take notes on it. from his strong brow that turned up into a sharp point at the ends, to the slope of his nose and the fullness of his lips —

covering her heated face in realisation, she slinked down to the floor with her knees to her chest.

oh no. she was in love with chung myung.

═══════════════

he can see her from the corner of his eye looking at him, her trying to be discreet didn't work at all — he should've felt a little uncomfortable then, but somehow he didn't mind her staring.

it didn't take him long to put two and two together and figure out how she felt about him.

how could he not? when he sees her, she ducks right out of view with her shoulders raised — something she tended to do when she got bashful, just one of her habits he'd noticed.

or that time he turned back to see her still in her daze and in her little daydreams, her eyes filled with a silent, quiet flame of adoration.

at some point he'd begun to stare at her too. he appreciated how she always wore her heart on her sleeve — if she was happy, her eyes would crinkle up at the corners. if she was disappointed, her gaze would turn downwards as her hands play with the loose threads of her clothes. if she was confused, her eyes widened. he'd know she was upset and angry if there were tears gathering at the outer corners of her eyes.

he felt his insides twitch a little. nervousness? no, that's not it. well, it's not serious, so he'll think more about it next time.

═══════════════

she was a very careless girl, someone who was in her own little world up in the clouds most of the time. while he was a rather careful man, who always seemed to see too much, or know too much. and that was all the opportunity certain schemers hanging around them needed.

they should have known it wasn't a coincidence, when the door to the study room locked by itself as she came in to deliver paperwork to him.

they should have known it wasn't a coincidence, that they were both paired up in the sect duty roster pretty often.

they should have known it wasn't a coincidence, especially when the head of the medical hall or tang soso were sometimes too busy and had her come and patch him up on their behalf.

the awkward small talk slowly became casual conversations that would end in comfortable silence as the two stayed next to each other. he couldn't have known then that it would plant small seeds in his heart that took years to grow into vines that wrapped around and tugged down tightly whenever he was with her.

═══════════════

it all clicked together in the middle of one summer's night — chung myung sat up in his bed, hands grabbing at his hair and practically ripping them off it's roots. how could he have been so slow? how could he have been so stupid?

you are actually.

no i'm not! he snapped back at the sarcastic voice of his sa-hyung in his head.

it was funny how the metaphorical final piece of the puzzle was that damn namguang kid. he really thought he was so slick when he stole glances at her, huh?

stop being so jealous when you can't even admit to your own feelings.

his head dropped back as he stared off into the darkness, uncharacteristically quiet.

the guy was right. it was embarrassing how he'd always known but could never come to terms with his own heart. how he would freeze up for just a second each time she was close, how his hands felt like they were on pins and needles each time his knuckles would ghost over her side. he should've known then.

damn it. he liked her. he really loved her too.

he could only hope that it wasn't too late for him yet, that he caught up to her years of longing after him. tomorrow, first thing, he was going to make the first move. there was no way he was going to let that adoring gaze fall onto anyone else.

═══════════════

he's not a hero.

has never been nor will he ever be one.

at least, that's what he tells himself. he isn't stupid, he didn't keep his eyes or ears closed to the world. he knows of the praises the people around him sing at his name. and the reverence they hold for all that he has done so far.

he loves it as much as he loathes it.

he feels good about himself in those moments, he can feel his heart race at the acknowledgement, somewhere among those voices he hears the ones of the people he missed the most in the world — all of them telling him he'd done a good job, and how proud they were of him.

he never really believed he's done enough to make them proud. he didn't really do that when they were still alive. all that's left for him to do now was to repent and regret for what could have been.

so he keeps pushing on. breaking his body, his mind, his soul because he's come to believe in the truth that it is he who must bear the weight of this world.

maybe then would a god almighty will bring down salvation that will save his beloved home. maybe then would the rain that wash away his sins pour down on him and he will finally be welcomed into the arms of the people he had missed so dearly.

═══════════════

most nights were spent thinking over and over again every little mistake, and every little misstep that resulted in his failure to reach cheon ma faster. to end the war earlier. to save the lives that he wanted to save.

chung myung-ah, it's not your fault

no, it was. he'd say to the winds that carried his message to the heavens. it was his fault for being so flippant when he shouldn't have been. he shouldn't have wiled away his youth thinking he had all the time in the world. such was the arrogance of youth.

but you were only a child.

so what if he was? he still should have known better. all of his past life's what-ifs and should haves were the reason he pushed himself so hard. there was no room for another mistake, he cannot fall or falter ever again. his kids right here in this moment needed him.

his mornings were now spent training in his lonesome, different from the past when he relied on his natural talents to get by, but still in his solus all the same.

if one were to witness him in that moment, they would see how his sword swings down with purpose, each step of his foot dancing across the dirt in certainty. because never again will he let the petals that bloom on top here face the fate his absence had brought the first time.

the next time he's gone, not now but when that time comes inevitably — the roots would have grown deep enough that nothing can uproot them.

═══════════════

he can't find it in him to cry. as much as he longs for all that's never coming back, all that time had taken away from him. he has become accustomed to existing side by side with the misery of grief permeating his bones and running in his veins. he thinks he's begun to call it like an unwanted friend that came knocking on the doors of his deeply wounded, ever-unhealing heart.

feverish skin of his that comes into contact with the cold night air would have had a certain someone go dizzy from worry.

oh, the invincible sword-saint was not immune to the ails of a malady. much less a puny little lizard they call the divine dragon. if only he were here, he would know how to make him better.

and yet by some sheer miracle, a small part of him was left behind on this earth, not quite the same — but still a piece of solace he had found on this unfamiliar time, nonetheless.

it was warm.

this affection that seeped through the vague figures that came to him in his half-conscious.

═══════════════

trying to be better than the you of yesterday was not an easy feat. sometimes one finds themselves falling three steps back before moving two steps forward.

and yet you must still try.

the training he put the others through was grueling, he can admit to it. but he still did it anyway, not for them as much as he did it for himself. or so he says.

he waits atop the highest peaks for the others to reach him, the sun had yet to rise, the lands below still shrouded in sleep and darkness. he wonders what lives there live in those huts dotted in the landscape that never seemed to end.

with the first rays of the new dawn shining it's light on yonder, he hears the noisy chatter of his new family growing closer to the mountaintop. tsk. he clicks his tongue in faux annoyance. clearly he has not tired them out enough this morning.

oh sword saint, ignorant on how deep one's love runs.

═══════════════

memories are a fickle thing, always living on the edge, ready to disappear into the abyss of forgetting.

he does not recognize many a thing of his past the longer he is alive in his present times. he worries that he might one day wake up and find his memories that he had held onto so fervently thus far slip through him like sand in his fingers.

does growing up mean he becomes somebody else? or does growing up mean that it was a result of all he held dear shaping his soul? it was impossible to stay the same and never change, he wasn't god.

maybe, it wasn't that the memories running away from his mind, but rather the feet of time moving him forward and away from a past he could not return to.

═══════════════

nothing matters when death comes to one's door. after all there is nothing one can bring along at the end of the road.

he moves along where the flow of fate leads him, like a rock falling down a hill and never letting the moss settle on his being for this was the life of a swordsman in the jiangshu.

there are other rocks rolling alongside him, some have lost momentum, some haves slowed and had been left behind. but still he must roll down the hill, across that grassy moss and perhaps even further than he'd ever done before.

chung myung-ah!

the young man turns at the sound of his name.

there he sees the kids calling out to him, telling him to hurry up. he huffs. children these days don't know what patience means anymore. and yet, his feet moved towards them instinctively, as though it knew that they were the new home he's grown to love.

chung myung-ah.

yeah?

═══════════════

i'm sorry for hating the person you love most in the world.

though he had said it in a low, uncharacteristically quiet voice, perhaps to soften the impact he knew it would've had on them — it still stung, nonetheless.

there was a beat of silence that hung in the air before they muttered a soft, i know.

phainon has known them most if not perhaps, all his life. has he ever known a moment where they didn't exist? he doubts that it'll ever happen.

he thinks about that day. the day when the dreaded black tide finally reached the gates of an idyllic aedes elysiae, the day the world phainon thought he knew ended. that day, right before his very eyes he saw the filth and corruption of the dreaded black tide turn the once golden wheat fields into a sea of red — he could hear the pained cries of the village children he had grown up with fill the air, their fates forever sealed as their limp bodies swirled and clumped together in the viscous black liquid. hopelessly he tried to look for his friends, catching a glimpse of a familiar head of pink hair in the distance like a bobbing anchor in this sea of chaos, no doubt the other wasn't too far off nearby. he didn't even let that thought settle in his mind before his legs moved on their own, running with his feet pounding against the dirt path, he was almost there and once he gets there he's going to grab them both and the three of them will leave this wretched place together. just a little more, just a little more—

kechk...

it all happened so fast that phainon wasn't even sure if it happened at all, even now as he thinks back to that very moment. the tip of the sword glinting with her fresh blood, the gold ichor dripping down the length of the blade and onto the dirt floor beneath. the girl's small body lifted up in the air, her feet dangling and kicking desperately trying to get away as though she wasn't already fatally impaled with the weapon going through her body.

cyrene—!

take them with you! go!

there to his left they stood, frozen and frightened out of their minds. phainon had no time to think, no time to waste. chocking back on his tears he grabs the hand of only person he had left and bolted towards the crumbling gates of the village. images of his parents, the village children, the blacksmith, the shopkeepers, the farmers flashed in his mind as he ran, images of their bodies contorting and scratching in inhumane angles as their skin melted and burned and hardened all while their heads would burst open with their molten brains dripping down their now monstrous bodies.

phai... non... help... help me...

he did not recognize which villager it was that was staggering towards him. well, they were less of a human and more of a creature now, almost indistinguishable from the very monsters that had invaded his beloved hometown.

the grip on the handle of his sword tightened. it was no matter anymore, he come to understand in the hours since the invasion started that there was no hope for anyone who had been transformed into a creature of the black tide, and if...

and if in the slim chance that someone was still gripping tightly to their remaining humanity, then he will be kind and end their suffering. at least in their final moments one could still die a human.

kechk—!

the monster cried like a scared child as it body disintegrated, calling out for their mother pitifully in that hollow voice of theirs. it was haunting, and it haunted him in turn for much of his sleepless nights for years to come.

phainon...

they call out behind him, squeezing his hand that held theirs. he doesn't turn back. not now, not when they're going to see the despair on his face and will no doubt have comforted him in the middle of all the carnage happening around them.

it's nothing... let's get out of here, yeah?

phainon manages to say without letting out a sob, he wipes away the tears falling out of his eyes and sniffs. he's got to be brave now. if not for himself, than he has to for them.

═══════════════

when phainon was little he had dreams of travelling the world as a trio with him, cyrene and them. he dreamed of walking across the vast rolling fields of the grasslands, sleeping under the stars at night and huddling together under the shade of a tree as cyrene told stories of tales she'd heard before.

phainon had dreamed of seeing a world outside aedes elysiae, but not like this. not in this way. not as two young, prepubescent children that were the only survivors of their little village ravaged by a calamity nobody could have seen coming.

the two had spent days walking god knows where, maybe to a place anywhere far enough that was safe from the black tide coming after them? perhaps. neither of the children spoke a word to the other, the silence stretched between them only grew louder as it went on — breaking occasionally when one or the other needed to stop for a break. hands still clasped together tightly as though letting go would cause the other to disappear.

it wasn't until a caravan heading to the grand city of okhema picked up the two that the children felt a vague sense of a goal forming in the horizon. phainon with gold in his veins had known from legends past he would one day have to stand at the forefront of something that would change this world. he knew not much of prophecies, nor that of fate but he knew the shape of their smoother and softer hands in his calloused ones. if he stopped knowing this fact, he thinks he might as well wonder if the world had turned upside-down.

phainon?

their voice, scratchy from a recovering cold, called out to him. it was in the middle of the night, the merchants that the two travelled with were fast asleep a distance away. the fire that was ignited to keep everyone warm had now been reduced to mere flickering embers.

the dying light danced in the reflection of their eyes, its orange tint somehow making this moment much more intimate than he'd thought it would be. after all, when one was huddled under a blanket with another, their bodies were bound to touch weren't they? and that warmth and tiredness from the morning muddled his thoughts into a thick, translucent sludge. he didn't know half of what was even real anymore.

all he could see were their chapped lips moving, and boy, it looked soft. what were they talking about? he couldn't hear a thing, but the ringing in his ears grew louder as he leaned down and placed a chaste kiss on the corner of their mouth.

ah...!

he watched with a sobering clarity how their eyes once drooping in sleepiness blew wide open in shock, mirroring his own reaction.

wait... i... i didn't...

can you do that again? please?

═══════════════

okhema was just as grandiose and awe-inspiring as one could imagine. there was so much to see and so much to do — markets bustling with a never-ending line of customers spilling out of the stalls and onto the paved stone roads, small gardens and alleys tucked away in between the limestone houses waiting to be discovered, though who could forget? the grandest place in all of okhema, the marmoreal palace?

from it's polished cream-coloured gold flaked marble tiled floors, to the towering waterfalls gushing with phagousa's final blessings that the people bathed and enjoyed themselves with. the famed marmoreal palace was an architectural feat in itself that has lasted for thousands of years since the imperator's time and perhaps will last for another thousand more.

and within these walls were those who had been awaiting their arrival, or more specifically, awaiting phainon's arrival. in the garden of life where the two children were brought to there stood a weaver and a childlike seer.

his fate was always set in stone long before his life began, phainon of aedes elysiae, the chrysos heir of the worldbearing coreflame who will one day reshape this world and bring a new dawn to everyone.

or so says the three little seers.

═══════════════

life in okhema was peaceful. at least it was for them, a regular civilian with nothing to their name other than as the childhood friend of the new youngest member to the chrysos heirs.

people were curious as humans often were, about who phainon was. and as much as they tried, they could not truly outrun or hide from the masses trying to get the latest scoop.

maybe we can ask agy for help!

the oldest of the three little seers said, one hand shot up in the air as though she were a diligent student answering a teacher's question during class.

but, why were the three little seers here?

we got bored sitting at home!

we wanted to play with snowy but he's in the middle of training now...

so we came to play with cloudy!

the trio answered in a chorus one after the other, which was cute, nevermind that the trio were thousands of years older than them. but, cloudy? was that the nickname they've been given? but, why? nevermind the why, phainon was snowy, and the lady goldweaver was agy? but of course, they remembered hearing about the trio being older than the lady and was even her teacher at some point.

wahhh! cloudy your head is going somewhere else again!

═══════════════

once upon a time, now long lost to the darkness, phainon watches in his mind's eye how they always seemed to be dreaming in the daytime. a telltale faraway look in their eyes as they talk to themselves, sometimes they'd pace around up and down the dirt paths picking up in speed when the plot in their heads gets equally exciting. sometimes, they'd get so caught up in that other world that they'd trip and fall or once they fell head-first into the lake after walking off a platform edge.

phainon often had to keep an eye on them together with cyrene back then, but ever since they came to okhema —

well, he'd tell himself, i was busy.

from the day they first stepped foot into the holy city, the two had been set off on different paths — the deliverer and a b-rate novelist. paths far enough that they wouldn't see the other for months on end. and yet at night they would still return to the same house they now called home, courtesy to the lady goldweaver.

he's come home to the place enveloped in darkness, the door leading into their room locked shut, not a sound nor movement that betrayed their presence ever permeated past that space.

with a sigh, phainon would promptly enter his own room right across theirs and lock his own door behind him. but does he know how their door would open just a crack when he leaves just so they could look at his locked door? perhaps he might never do.

and yet, on the anniversary of the massacre, he'd find himself in their bed, tangled in their sheets like lovers do even with the both of them still very much fully clothed. it was easy to ignore how they haven't talked to the other for so long, it was easy to forget about how he had pushed them away that night under the stars as they huddled under the blanket.

he'd never apologized for that time, and they never pushed for an answer. it was just, well, forgotten.

forgotten until days like this came around, and only then did he cling onto them and let the heat that settled in between melt away the cold walls they'd both built up thus far for this one night.

by the next morning, he'd be gone and they would wake up to find his side of the sheets cold and empty.

═══════════════

snowy, do you like cloudy?

phainon coughed, startled by the sudden question. he was here to give a report to lady aglaea and lady tribbie not get ambushed with personal questions like this!

yes...? why wouldn't i like my childhood friend?

mmh... but tribbie isn't asking if you like cloudy, tribbie wants to know if snowy like-likes cloudy!

teacher, i think that's enough teasing for today.

aglaea cuts in, holding back an amused smile, clearly finding joy in seeing the usually put-together young man squirm and scramble in his boots at the rather innocuous question.

though if the demigod of romance were to be honest, she believed that the deliverer was already a little too late.

═══════════════

i think i love you.

he had let it slip once as he tugged them closer to his embrace, his lips in their hair as he murmured it aloud. he was sure of it, he was sure that all this time, he did love them back.

sure he had been so, so cruel and so terrible that time. how could he forget telling them that he couldn't love the person they loved? that he couldn't love himself therefore he could not love them? what kind of convoluted logic was that? he loves them! he loves them! he always had and he always will so please —

oh phainon.

ZHONGLI who had lived for long enough to have seen and experienced almost everything one could see, was still taken aback when he felt a familiar throb in his heart as he conversed with the new face of the artisan's alley. a fledgling who had just left their nest and was beginning to make their way into the world — your naivety much unlike your more seasoned neighbours who knew how to set the prices of their goods to gain the maximum profit. you were often tricked and scammed out of selling your wares at their proper price, too scared to stand your ground and disrespect your older customers. the former archon couldn't bear to see a budding talent, such as yourself, sell themselves short out of expected social courtesy. he often found himself buying your highest-priced works even if he had to empty his entire wallet. you were beyond grateful for his patronage, even offering a commission, free of charge. that's just how bad business was before he stepped in. oh you poor thing, now that he knows how easy it was to get you dancing in his palm, how could he let you meet better opportunities? he was your lifeline, the only way you were going to make it in this career you chose. and you better not forget that.

NEUVILETTE knew that he shouldn't be so enamoured with the new hire. really. a being who had been alive for as long as he falling in love with someone thousands of years their junior? he wanted to rip his hair out. the chief justice approached this predicament as he would with almost anything he deemed annoying — avoidance. sending you out on errands that kept you out of the office for the whole day, giving days off to everyone if there was nothing on the agenda, having you go sort out documents in the filing room, and a whole host of other things that made sure you and him wouldn't cross paths. once he had a clearer mind to sit down and think, he is immediately riddled with guilt. weren't his actions akin to that of a black company employer? you on the other hand, could not be happier to hit the jackpot. good pay, regular days off, responsibilities that didn't require you to rack your brain too much. this was everything an energy-saving adult like you could ever want. it must be nice to frolic around and stay blissfully unaware while your boss was in the middle of a mental breakdown alone in his office.

JING YUAN was a calculating man, despite the commonly held belief that he never really took things too seriously. he kept a rather consistent air of nonchalance so impenetrable that it annoyed you whenever you couldn't discern what was on his mind at that moment. your after-hours hobby these days was to drop by the community starchess club and play a few rounds with the people there. and who else was waiting there at your seat every day? your damned boss. the elders who were there swooned over the handsome general, remarking about how you and him made a great pair — much to your chagrin. the man would always send a blinding smile in your way as you got closer, even going so far as to help you settle down. the routine was always the same each night. you would play against him for at least five rounds consecutively, lose against him in almost every single match, play against the other club members, gather your things and go home for the day. the general would also coincidentally be done with his activities. he offered to walk you to your front door, you've learnt from the one time you refused that the general was unusually talented in pulling an extremely sad, pathetic, wet and kicked puppy face. unfortunately, you were too nice to reject him further. ah, but now that he knew of that weakness of yours, you'd better expect that he would be pulling the same trick again soon.

TANG GUNAK felt that he was far too geriatric to be feeling this way. especially when he had adult children of his own. the youngest of whom was only a few years older than you were. a talented person, emerging at the top of your class in the academy meant that the world was your oyster. so why had you decided to come down to sichuan and work as an aide in this family? the patriarch had no clue, and he certainly didn't know how to even bring up the question. at first, he had hoped that perhaps you and one of his children would be wed but as time passed, it became increasingly obvious you were not interested in them at all, rather you had set your sights on the patriarch himself. him? the widower? the poor man who had only felt the touch of his dead wife? he was very scandalised that the young aide of his house was so open about their attraction to him. however, it seemed nobody in the household was on his side. not even his own flesh and blood. though for all that forwardness, he never expected that you would be so hesitant and shy when you were alone with him. it was endearing how you became more diligent whenever that happened, how you would engross yourself in your work just to pretend he wasn't there with you. the next time he looked up from what he was doing, you were passed out on your desk. he moved over to carry you back to your quarters — it was deep into the night right now anyways, so nobody would see him with you in his arms. he tucked you into bed, leaving as quickly as he came. the glimpse of his own flushed face in the reflection of the window never left his mind the rest of that week.

DOKGO had agreed to follow his disciple to town only because said disciple was going to throw a tantrum in his courtyard and the older man was not in the mood to deal with the adult child. the master pretended to not be acquainted with his own disciple when the man began to flirt with the women passing by. he walked on and sat down at a vacant bench in front of a teahouse. his troublesome disciple eventually shook off the girls clinging onto him and joined his master at the table, a string of apologies falling out his mouth when he caught sight of the older man's disapproving glare. only when the younger man offered to pay did the old master's hardened expression fall softer — fine, he said with a grunt. the second headache of the day came in the shape of you, a wandering merchant, or so you said. you slipped in to sit next to the master after the disciple had graciously allowed you to. not like the older man could oppose when there weren't any empty seats in the vicinity. while the conversation was lively as you talked with the disciple about your travels, he could only focus solely on the callouses of your palms, something a merchant who says they are not a martial artist shouldn't have. you had noticed his scrutinising gaze, throwing him a quick grin as you continued the chat with his disciple. oh? he could only wonder what that was about. shame that his dull, blockheaded disciple had let that slip past him. the master wonders if he should up the training regime when they get back.

CHONGYUE was up and early, as he usually does, leading the daily morning exercise with the other operators. the doctor not being there was somewhat expected, but you going missing? that was a first. when the morning exercise was over, he headed up to your room to check on you, finding the door slightly ajar. cautiously, he walked into the dark room, you had a bag of junk near the entry, from the looks of it you were living off cup noodles and soda, again. no wonder you were now curled up in bed all sick. he might have to give you an earful later, but for now, he puts aside your laundry and took out the trash. he goes down to the canteen, ordering some warm chicken porridge and even stopping by the nurse's office to pick up whatever he thinks you might need. this time, you were now somewhat awake. grumbling and muttering complaints under your breath from the disturbance, he helped you sit up. you insisted on feeding yourself, but he would have none of it. you could only comply and open your mouth wide every time he brought the spoon to your lips. you finished the food and even took the medicine obediently, earning praise from the man himself. before he left, he rubbed some medicinal balm on your stomach, layering warm blankets and patted you back to sleep, reciting an abbot's chants as he did so. the nostalgic feeling was comforting. you should thank him when you got better — maybe he might be interested in a popular classic novel from your home country, or should you try your luck with the lacquer pots instead?

SHAMANE spotted a figure hunched over the running stream near his hut as he was out collecting the fresh water he would need for the day. when they didn't answer his calls, he walked over, not too worried about whether the figure was a dangerous critter or not. the snap of a twig had them spin their head in his direction — that's when he met your eyes. you both stared at the other, sizing each other up. when he decided that you were not a threat, he introduced himself with his signature smile. you did the same, albeit quieter, still a little peeved from seeing a large bearded man in the middle of nowhere. friendly as ever, he kept the conversation going. he talked about himself, he asked about you, and so on and so forth until you finally admitted to him that you had gotten lost in the mountains, also you had twisted your ankles. he pointed to his hut and asked if you wanted to rest in there until you got better, how could you say no? the month when you lived under the same roof as him passed by quickly, and soon enough it was time for you to go back down the mountain. when you both parted ways at the entrance of the village, there was an air of reluctance in saying goodbye. you promised to write to him, maybe even visit him. he only laughed you off, not expecting much to come out of that. though when he received his sister's letter not long after, he thought about taking you with him to his hometown. but ah, isn't visiting each other hometowns a thing expectant newlyweds do? well, he could always pretend he didn't know about these things, couldn't he?

HIGURUMA was pretty friendly with the tenants renting out the office space next door. all of whom were fresh design school graduates trying to start a business together. you were the one he's grown the most familiar with, the unofficial boss of the company and the one who was single-handedly juggling your own practice along with other administrative duties. he helped you where he could, the doors to his own law office always open to you — even in the wee hours of the night. you would sit cross-legged on the big swivel chair as both of you engrossed yourselves in your respective work with the boxes of takeout splayed all over his table. when it was late enough that you missed the last train, he drove you back to your apartment. and everytime you sat in the passenger seat, he would reach over to pull the seatbelt on for you. you could have done it yourself but how were you supposed to pass up the chance to have him come this close? enough to even catch a whiff of his cologne? the lawyer himself knew that you were capable enough to do something this simple, but he couldn't help but enjoy the way you tried not to look at him as he did this each time. the ride back was quiet and serene, your tired body sank into the plush of his car seats and soon you were knocked out cold. even when you were both already parked outside your residence, you still wouldn't rouse. he clicks the seatbelt off you, even going so far as to push the seat back so you were lying more comfortably. you've done this enough times where he has a blanket to cover you with as he waited for you to wake up. which you would, and feel so ashamed. he thinks about how cute you were babbling out your apologies and thanks, all while scrambling to pull yourself together and out his car. only to repeat this whole song and dance the very next night.

═══════════════

[ 01 ]

it was a lovely morning atop mount hua, the sun was warm that cold morning, and the disciples had just come back for a quick meal before another round of training. it's a rare peaceful start to the day, and nothing could —

you what?!

it was a peaceful start to the day, interrupted by the loud shouting of their newest entry to the sect. the kids continue to shovel down their breakfast, no time to waste on being a busybody and wonder what their samae was losing her mind over when the demon that trained them to the bone expected everyone to be back in one hour, on the dot. latecomers be damned, he was going to give those kids hell... nobody wants to be a part of the hell chung myung is creating up on mount hua. nuh-uh.

yu iseol pries the pot of tea away from her junior sister's hands. the poor girl had been so astonished by what she just heard that she did not notice how the cup of tea she'd been pouring had overflowed out and onto the table.

tang soso takes in a shaky breath.

sago... you... you're joking... right? please, please please tell me you're not serious right now!

you only shrugged nonchalantly at her disbelief, reaching over with a towel in hand to wipe of your junior's mess. summer was coming soon and that means ants would be having a field day with any spilled foods. now that would be a bother.

sago don't ignore me.

of course you don't answer.

the girl wanted to know about everyone's crushes and gossip a little before the next training period. and of course the discussion had included you as well.

so, you told her.

problem wasn't the apparent age of the man you had set your sights on, it was the relation he had to your new samae.

tang soso puts her head in her hands, feeling as though she's going through the five stages of grief all at once.

my father? sago, you like my father?

yeah? i thought i made that clear just now.

the young woman could only cry out in exasperation. there was no way this was happening to her right now!

═══════════════

[ 02 ]

tang soso had steeled her resolve to introduce you to other romantic options other than her father. even if she had to sacrifice one of her own brothers for her cause.

hey, sago...

yeah?

you were carrying some old blankets from the dorms to the main storage, not really paying attention to your junior sister's words at that moment.

sago, what do you look for in a lover?

uh... nothing particularly comes to mind.

you respond absentmindedly, watching your steps as you two went down the stairs.

come on... something has to be there!

you put down the blankets in their designated place, you frown as your brain racked for a answer. tang soso shuffled on her feet, growing impatient with the lack of answers.

i guess i would like if they were older.

well that ruled out all of the third grade disciples.

i think it'd be nice if they were handsome.

oh her poor brothers... tang soso felt she had to apologise to all of them later for thinking of them like this.

and i guess i would like if they were mature.

the junior sister's ears perked up — could this mean that there's still some hope?

also i would want them to have their shit together.

baek cheon sasuk...! not him too!

you watched the pained expression flashing across your samae's face. as much as her performance was interesting to watch, you still had a job to do. excusing yourself, you left the storeroom going off to finish your other chores.

noticing you were escaping away, tang soso calls out after you, she wasn't done with you! how could you sago!

═══════════════

[ 03 ]

tang soso was going to visit her family for a short overnight stay, she's asked her favourite senior sister to come along, and then the two of them could have a girls night all alone together... the possibilities had the maiden going about her following days with a hop in each step. nothing in the world now was going to dull her shine! not even the devil atop mount hua!

on the day she was to set off, tang soso spots yu iseol standing by the front gates where they were to meet up. and together with her beloved senior was —

why is she here.

wah... this samae is being rude again...

yu iseol's eyes dart between the two, she really didn't mean for this to happen, she had assumed it was a short trip with friends and you were her friend... soso was also her friend...

no fighting.

her stoic voice cuts the tension between you and your samae. the two of you step back and look away like children being scolded by their teacher, tang soso was even pouting from being scolded by her beloved iseol-sago.

no more fighting or i'm not coming along.

yu iseol puffs her cheeks cutely and you just can't help but remember the scruffy little girl the sect leader had entrusted under your care all those years ago.

iseol-yah, don't be upset okay? we're not fighting.

you rub the younger girl's head, ruffling her hair playfully trying to get her to smile. it works and your junior sister finally loosened up.

tang soso looks at the both of you, appalled. it was so unfair that you got to touch the yu iseol so casually without the other stiffening up from awkwardness. why did that only happen with her? why can't she have a friendly relationship like the two of you? ah... it's so unfair...

the three girls bid their goodbyes to the others and headed down the mountain with promises to buy their friends souvenirs from sichuan when they came back.

the brown-haired girl grumbled to herself, purposely within your earshot with the hopes to piss you off even more.

you know, soso...

keeping up with the annoying senior sister act, you lean down to whisper in the other girl's ear.

you're not slick and you're shit at flirting. just so you know.

eh?

you smile serenely at your samae, waving her off as you skipped over to your little sister's side calling out her name in a sing-song voice.

eh?

═══════════════

[ 04 ]

the trip home was supposed to be tang soso's long-awaited alone time with her beloved iseol sago, only for a bothersome someone to intrude and be the cockblock the whole time.

you shrug off the girl's daggered glare, pointing out another food stall that would surely pique yu iseol's interest — and you not-so-subtly pushed the girl away from your other samae.

oh so you're trying to be funny, huh? when all three of you were in her house, and you ever tried to make a move on her father, she's sure as hell going to let you know what it's like to be absolutely hilarious.

sago—

iseol-yah! say ahhh, i got us some choushou!

this fucking cockblock of a senior sister.

tang soso bites her bottom lip and looks up to the heavens, will any of her ancestors up there take pity and help a poor love-sick girl in her time of need? all she wants is to spend some time, maybe even a little date with her crush?

she glanced over, only to be met with your unblinking eyes.

jumping back with a quiet screech, she shivers as all the hairs on her body stood up. the passers-by all looked at her with judgement, what weird girl, they all thought. but tang soso could only grimace from the embarrassment. god, why were you such a creep!

soso-yah~ come here~ don't stray too far and get lost~!

lost? get lost? in her own hometown?

tsk.

clicking her tongue, tang soso reluctantly drags her feet towards her two travelling companions. the three of you weren't expected to arrive at the estate until sometime later in the evening, and it was only noon right now. there was still too much time to spare.

═══════════════

[ 05 ]

arriving at the familiar gates of her birth home has never filled her with such joy before. finally, she had a fighting chance to shake you off—!

the imposing doors swung open and the attendant on the other side rushed out to greet the girls.

oh my goodness! come in quickly! you there!

the attendant points to one of the younger servants.

go tell the aides that the young lady and her sect sisters are here!

the old attendant barely managed to finish their sentence before the patriarch himself appeared at the other end of the courtyard. tang gunak walked so fast, his eldest son trailing behind had trouble even keeping up with the hem of his changyi flowing back.

ah! father!

soso perks up, she's always been close to her father — being his only daughter and all. growing up, he's always doted on her. at times it was so much that it felt a little suffocating. but they say distance makes the heart grow fonder, and being away from home for months and years at a time did make her miss her family on lonely nights after another exhausting day of training.

the now energetic girl runs over and jumps into her father and older brother's arms — the two men barely catching her properly, all decorum thrown into the air as they fuss over her, bombarding her with questions like are you eating well? you look so thin, your cheeks are so hollow! when it's dinner you better not go to bed without finishing at least three bowls of rice!

tang soso wriggled out of their tight grasp, giddy and just happy to be home, far away from that mad demon they left behind in mount hua.

oh right!

she gestures at the her two sect sisters to come closer.

i brought some company this time, i hope you don't mind that father...

you know i wouldn't mind... you silly girl.

tang gunak smiles down at his daughter, gloved hand resting atop her head. truly she hasn't changed much from childhood, always doing whatever she wants. he was confident he'd been used to it by now.

ah father-! dont do that, you'll mess up my hair!

the girl whined, swiping her old man's hand off her head. stepping back she clears her throat, introducing him to her special guest, and the freeloader that decided to tag along.

i brought home iseol-sago with me! i'm sure you remember her father, we've gotten real close since i joined mount hua!

yu iseol, bows her head awkwardly.

and... this is my other sago... she came along with us too... i guess.

you bowed respectfully, arms out with a fist in your palm.

greetings to the tang clan patriarch, and greetings to the tang clan young master. though i believe this isn't the first time we've met? is it mr. patriarch?

hey. wait a minute. what do you mean it wasn't the first time you've met her father?

yes, it isn't our first time meeting. though i wasn't able to catch your name that time, regretfully.

huh?

huh?

tang soso, aged twenty eight feels like her whole world had just been rocked upside down.

and what were you doing? smiling politely at her father as you told him your name while his gaze was focused on you? what was that glimmer in his eye?

tang soso thinks she's going to have a stroke.

═══════════════

[06]

dinner came and went, the girls had a nice long relaxing bath in the large tub specially prepared for all three of you. and when that was done, you excused yourself and left your youngest samae in yu iseol's care.

stepping out of the warm confines of the guest house, you shivered as the cold air of the second month hit you. wrapping the borrowed sleeping robes tighter around you, you wondered if all noble ladies were dressed this lightly all the time?

walking under the sheltered walkways, your footfalls land quietly against it's polished wooden floorboards. step by step you followed the path until you reached a pavilion — it sat atop a small, man-made pond. the cold air made colder no thanks to the still waters around you.

as you were slowly getting lost in thought, a warmth suddenly envelopes you, and a sigh of content escapes your lips.

you're early.

his voice whispered lowly in behind you. giggling, you spin around to meet face to face with your secret rendezvous.

the tang clan patriarch looked softer in his nightwear, his hair tied loose over his shoulder with a few strands hanging over his head.

your hand reached out, tucking the flyaways behind his ear.

tsk-tsk. shouldn't the tang clan patriarch be more mindful of his image?

you chastised playfully.

i could say the same to you, shouldn't a proud disciple of the great mount hua sect be more mindful of catching a cold?

tang gunak chides as he helped you put on the thick changyi that was draped over your shoulders earlier.

his hand reached for yours and you took it, interlocking your fingers togethers while leading you to sit on a bench overlooking the pond.

your acting earlier was something. pretending like you didn't catch my name when you said we've met before...

your head rested against the older man's arm, taking in his deep scent of aged pine and oak as your thumb rubs the back of his hand absentmindedly.

...i'm sorry my love. though it is true that i did miss out on your name that first time we met, didn't i?

he placed a chaste kiss to the crown of your head apologetically, like he'd always do whenever you got a little upset.

yes. and then you'll forget to ask me again for at least half a year...

but i did eventually got your name, didn't i? and besides didn't you also say you liked the way i call out to you whenever we have s—

your hand quickly clamped over his mouth, your eyes darted around to check if anyone heard what he was about to say.

the older man only laughed, amused by your embarrassment and your hands fall to your side in the process. taking the opportunity, he cups your face in his hands, lifting it as he leans down to kiss you properly.

and just like that you forgot just what you were so vigilant about.

his tilts your head, kissing you deeper and you feel his tongue prod at your lips, asking you to let him in and you do, gasping into his mouth as it wraps around yours, one hand already on your lower back as he pushes you down with your back flat on the bench.

tsk. you crazy old man.

shall i take this somewhere private then?

═══════════════

[07]

when morning rolled around, tang soso's first order of action was to burst into your room — with a groggy yu iseol in tow.

she had been so sure she was going to catch you in the act of something, she didn't know what it was but she knew. she could feel it in her bones, you did something last night.

but alas, there you lay in your bed, fast asleep with a leg hanging over the edge without a care in the world. blankets and pillows in places they were expected to be, things in the room still in their place and your bag still hung in the place where you left it last night.

tsk.

tang soso looks down at your sleeping face, feeling her rage boil even more in annoyance. god, you pissed her off. did you even know she couldn't even sleep properly last night? did you?

wake up! c'mon we don't have all day you hag!

═══════════════

who doesn't love to return home? after a long tiring day outside, who wouldn't want to fall into their bed and sleep till the sun came out the next day?

he had been away for over a week, attending a annual meeting with other influential young lords around the area as the face of the sect — his sajil's words, not his.

in his almost thirty years of living, the one thing he's pretty sure about was that he hates anything to do with business or politics. sure, he had lofty dreams of becoming a sect leader a long time ago but he's starting to think twice now. and when he weighed the pros and cons, he starting to believe that he just might not be cut out for this after all.

it was noon by the time he reached the foot of mount hua. dazed from hunger and the sun beating down on his head, he makes his way up the steep steps, one foot in front of the other until he sensed he was nearing the familiar red gates of home.

cheon-ah!

there on the edge, stood a person. the sun behind them shrouded their figure with a dark shadow. baek cheon squints, but still couldn't make out who it was calling out to him so affectionately.

cheon-ah!

he picks up his pace. and as the person's face became clearer in his vision, he started skipping steps just to get to their side sooner.

you're back.

who else had it been other than her? who else could it have been that would have called his name so sweetly? baek cheon felt a smile grow on his face as he walked over to her side.

to think i would see you on my way back. i must be lucky today.

he says softly, as he lifted a hand to tuck her stray hair behind her ear.

of course you're lucky. who wouldn't be lucky to see me?

she retorts rather cheekily, and the two couldn't help but laugh.