In acquiescence,
he refuses to wake from his dream
Indulging himself
in a phantasmagorical scheme
—E.M. Nyx
***
"Aziel, watch out!"
A surge of fear burst in Elijah's chest the moment Orlando pulled the trigger aimed at Aziel.
Before the bullet could hit him, Elijah moved faster, grabbing Aziel's shoulder and pulling him close, shielding him from the attack. Elijah's back slammed against the ship's railing, while Aziel was pressed against him.
Aziel's face held with surprise and the eyes that were usually cold and blank changed into bloodshot at once, emitting with confusion and worry.
Amid the surprise that he felt, a foreboding sense of worry stirred up within Aziel, "Nyx, you..."
He was coherent but at that moment, his mouth couldn't seem to form a word as his eyes traveled to Elijah's abdomen. He saw blood gushing out of the latter's stomach, and the man before him only seemed to realize that he was hit by the bullet when he traced Aziel's gaze looking straight into the wound.
Elijah managed a crooked smile, wincing. "Ah, I'm fine, Apollo. Just a small graze. It's far from the intestine."
Aziel just stared at him, saying nothing in reply. His expression was in disarray. There was fear, there was worry, there was anger, there was distress. Only once in a blue moon did Aziel show such an expression on his face. He had always been cold and indifferent, not wanting anybody to know what he's thinking by looking at his face. However, at the very moment, he looked like an open book, splayed across the kitchen vulnerable and naked.
Elijah didn't think that he would be able to witness the Young Master in such a state. He found it very amusing, thus, he couldn't help but to run his mouth to tease.
"If you keep looking at me like that, I might get the wrong idea," he teased.
Aziel snapped his gaze up, another expression flickering across his face as if asking: What wrong idea?
Elijah grinned. "I might think the righteous and upright God of Light, Apollo, is actually worried about me. Has the god caught feelings for a mortal man and is finally confessing? Oh, I'm so flattered. Who am I to resist? I'm weak to ethereal beauty, so I'd gladly accept your feelings with an open heart, My Lord."
A flush of red instantly climbed up Aziel's ears. He could never stand such shameless words.
"…"
After a stiff silence, Aziel spoke: "Stop talking."
"Well, what's the use of my mouth if I won't talk? If you want to silence me, then make m—Ow!"
Elijah's face contorted in pain as he gritted his teeth. He could now feel the pain flaring in his stomach; his body was going numb and his complexion turning pale.
He slowly lifted his left butt but to no avail. Then after a moment, he felt a hand holding his stomach with so much care.
"Don't move," Aziel muttered.
Like an obedient child, he stopped from moving around and let Aziel check his wound. It was not a graze, after all; the bullet just pierced through his stomach, and it was bleeding too much. If it will not be treated soon, he might drop dead from the loss of blood.
Everything was still a mess and they were in the middle of the ocean, so treating his wound right now would not be feasible. Doctor Morgan was still in the ship but he didn't know if the doctor was still alive and had fled out or was already one of the corpses.
Elijah:"Don't worry, I'm hanging in. I might hold you back, though, if you don't mind."
Aziel almost rolled his eyes at Elijah's remarks. They both knew this wasn't a trivial matter. Elijah's life was at stake yet the situation had changed; everything had been out of control at the very moment. They had to make use of what they have now to protect each other's lives.
A soft smile tugged at Elijah's lips as Aziel tore a strip from his own shirt and wrapped Elijah's waist, pressing down to slow the bleeding.
In truth, the wound on his stomach didn't hurt too much. But it was still a wound, after all. Back then, when he got injured from fighting, even if he got stabbed by a knife whilst being punched in the gut, he had managed for a while and would still go on fighting until he would win the battle.
Yet now, as the wound bled, he couldn't help but to feel light-headed and felt the excruciating burn on his flesh, so he could only let his guard down. It was probably because he was exhausted, given everything that was happening, not to mention the life-and-death fight earlier between him and the metahumans who had lost control.
And it really wasn't that bad to be vulnerable in front of Aziel.
He was just silently admiring those slim fingers and strong veiny hands, moving with precision and care while treating his wound, when he heard a click sound—it sounded from a gun being clicked.
Puzzled with the thought of where the click came from, he tilted his head up and saw Orlando who was just a few feet away from them, in his not-so-good state with blood dripping from his stomach, aiming a gun in their direction.
Damn it! How did he forget that the bastard was there, still breathing?
Without hesitation, Elijah shoved Aziel hard to the side just as Orlando fired. His wound tore off from the movement and the blood gushed out on his stomach. Despite the pain, he still managed to lift his right arm where a butterfly knife was being held and threw it in Orlando's direction.
His knife never missed its target and he had promised to annihilate the bastard today. He was to fulfill that promise even at the expense of his life.
As expected, the butterfly knife stabbed through the center of Orlando's forehead. Afterwards, Orlando's body dropped dead on the floor; eyes wide, mouth opened, and drenched in his own blood.
But Elijah never expected a second shot.
The bullet hit his upper chest. His body lurched. He coughed a mouthful of blood and leaned on the railing to support himself, yet his back tilted too far, his strength failed, and he slipped over the edge.
He could only close his eyes as he felt his body falling off the ship, the cold air and see breeze embracing his body. He braced for the crash of the ocean, but it never came.
Someone was able to catch his hand! Who?!
Elijah's eyes flew open in bewilderment, only to see Aziel, desperately trying to pull him back into safety. Aziel managed to grab one of Elijah's hands with his injured arm. Blood streamed dangerously from Aziel's own bullet wound. It could be possible to pull Elijah back if not for the wound on Aziel's arm.
Wait—when did Aziel get shot?
"Apollo," Elijah choked, his voice trembling, "Let me go."
Aziel only shook his head, his eyes were now glossy with tears as he held on tighter. He was losing the last bit of strength in his hand but he will never let go.
Aziel's upper half body was bent over the handrail. He kept his grip on Elijah's hand tightly, not wanting to let go, even though he was slipping too.
When Elijah realized that both of them were going to fall, he struggled from the grip. No, he couldn't drag Aziel to fall with him too!
A lone tear fell from his eyes, and with an intake of breath, he instantly flung his hand free, to Aziel's horror.
A small yet reassuring smile made its way on his lips as he whispered in conviction, "One of us should live on, Apollo."
As he was falling, he shut his hopeless eyes, accepting the incoming definite death. Amid the cold breezing wind hovering over his body and the ocean waves crashing against the ship's hull, there was a faint voice shouting his name in agony.
"NYX!"
"Apollo!"
Elijah jolts awake.
He squints his eyes when a translucent light hit his face. Still feeling disoriented, he rubs his eyes using his two hands and feels that there is something wet. Though the tears on the side of his eyes had already dried up, there was still a trace of wet tears in the corner of his eyes indicating that he just cried.
White walls, white ceilings, and blue mattress.
Everything looks so clean as if he is in the hospital, but there is not a faint smell of antiseptic and his wrist is not bound by an IV drip, so he deduces that he cannot be lying in the hospital bed.
If that's the case, then where is he?
He can not be in his own room since he doesn't have one. The room looks cozy and bright, though. Despite feeling strange, Elijah can still feel a sense of familiarity when a scent of sandalwood hits his nose. Somehow, deep inside, he feels secure as though he is at home and that should be surprising given that he had never felt that way for a very long time.
How does he even end up being here in this bright room? Elijah pinches the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes, trying to remember what had happened prior to what is happening now. He cannot be dreaming because this one felt so surreal to just be a dream. Perhaps he is daydreaming, but that also can't be right.
Oh.
Realization hits him so hard his temples throb.
There is only one place that smells like sandalwood. Only one person who lives where everything is white and immaculate.
This room can't be the young master's bedroom, can it? If that appears to be true, then he is completely screwed.
Elijah closes his eyes as strings of memory from yesterday floods into his mind. With the memory that he remembers, he can now confirm that he really is in the Young Master's residence. But shouldn't he be in the prison rather than here? What? Is this some sort of VIP treatment for a notorious criminal?
Elijah almost snorted at his thoughts. Where did I even get this kind of luxury to think this way?
As he is racking his brain out and absentmindedly face palm, that's when he realized that the face mask that he was wearing has been off of his face. Elijah's shoulder slumps. Now, he doesn't really have an excuse and feigns ignorance about his identity. He has been exposed splendidly!
Should he run away again? Considering how the world condemns Elijah and the Clans doing all their power to seize him again, no matter how cozy the place that he is currently staying right now will not be good for his safety. Surely, he and Aziel has history and their relationship was quite good, but that was ten years ago. Nothing can remain the same for a long time.
Right now, all he can do is to go out of this room and find a place that will guarantee his safety.
"Yes, that's it! I'm doing that."
With a determined face, Elijah makes his way through the door. Just when he is about to twist the doorknob unlock, the door suddenly opens up revealing a man in a silver uniform and cold silver-gray eyes that are staring straight through his soul.
Elijah's breath hitches and he starts to feel light headed as though he got drunk by only staring at the best fine wine he has ever seen.
The man before him is no other than the owner of the room—Aziel Apollo Lunaris.
Aziel Apollo Lunaris stands in the doorway like a figure carved from moonlight and steel. His silver Venator uniform that represents the Lunaris Clan hugs his form with precise, unforgiving lines—polished, immaculate, almost too pristine for someone who spends his life hunting monsters. The faint glow of the corridor lights slides over the metallic accents on his coat, making him look ethereal and untouchable, like he steps out from a different realm entirely.
His face is the kind sculptors dreamed of capturing: sharp jaw, straight nose, lips set in a cool, unreadable line. But it is his eyes—those cold silver-gray eyes—that commands everything. Eyes that seem to see every lie, every truth, every wound carved onto a man's soul.
Aziel carries an aura that shifts the world around him. The air grew taut, charged with something Elijah can neither fight nor name. His presence alone is enough to take Elijah's breath away.
A strand of moon-white hair falls over Aziel's brow as he tilts his head slightly, regarding Elijah as though the latter has stepped into restricted territory. Even that small motion exudes an effortless authority, a calm that rests atop unimaginable strength.
Elijah feels like he is floating. It has been ten years since the last time he saw him. That ten whole years never failed Aziel to make him look more handsome. He is still as beautiful as Elijah remembered, but mature and looks more manly.
Elijah wants to look away, but he can't seem to tear off his eyes of Aziel. Yesterday, he wasn't able to look at Aziel's face, lest his identity would blown. But it really didn't work, did it? He still got captured and is now being house arrest.
Seeing Aziel before him, it makes all the old memories slowly resurfacing on his mind. It plays on his mind like a film rewinding—from the last time they'd seen each other when he fell off the ship to their first meeting when he was more of a stray cat after losing his family. A lot of things has really happened before and after everything. It shouldn't be surprising if one changes after how many years.
It's been a long time and I really missed seeing this beauty.
"You're awake," Aziel says, voice low and smooth.
Elijah wakes up from his reverie when he hears Aziel's voice. His brow twitches as he clears his throat and forces himself to look away. What the f-ck? Why am I staring at him and he's just letting me do it… ?
"Y-yeah…"
Elijah slaps himself internally when he almost scratches his head while saying that single word in stutter. Apparently, his mind can't able to form a coherent words at the very moment. He knows that he might be meeting Aziel again, but he didn't anticipate to met him sooner and in this very state. He doesn't know how to react. It makes him even feel more awkward than he already is.
Honestly, as much as he can, he will do all his power to not meet an old friend, including this man before him. But unfortunately, luck isn't always on his side.
Aziel stares at him for a moment, probably checking on him or sizing him up, before turning his back on him.
"Let's eat first," Aziel mutters with his back on him, and starts walking.
With a turbid mind, Elijah follows Aziel while he silently calms himself down.
Elijah has never been this nervous, not even when he almost fell to his death. But he doesn't know why his heart is beating uncontrollably inside his chest because of his reunion with Aziel.
Is it because the meal is going to be my last supper? And that this reunion is doomed?
Yeah, it must be.