Evening had settled over the academy, painting the corridors in dim amber. Kael and Elior walked in silence toward the dormitory. The quiet wasn't comfortable—it was a pressure, like the air itself was thick with Kael's restrained instinct. Elior's hands fidgeted with the straps of his bag, throat dry, voice caught somewhere in his chest.
The dormitory loomed ahead. Kael said nothing. Elior tried to break the silence but stopped midway, swallowed by the weight of Kael's gaze. Every step Kael took was measured, deliberate, as if marking the path Elior would walk—claiming it before anyone else could.
Finally, Elior whispered, almost as if testing the air, "Ah… I… I am… I'm going… bye…"
Kael remained statuesque. His eyes didn't leave Elior. The silence stretched, taut and suffocating. Then Elior understood.
"If… if you want to drop me home… I… I'll just get fresh first," he said, cheeks warming.
Kael's jaw ticked—a slight nod. "Yes."
Elior hesitated. "I… I'm not really ready to introduce you to my parents… not even as a friend. Just… drop me off, please."
Kael's agreement was silent, almost reverent, his dark gaze flickering over Elior like he was marking territory. Every detail… every shadow… every breath.
"Do you… want to wait while I get fresh?" Elior asked, heart racing.
Kael's eyes glimmered at the question. Instant. Unyielding. "Yes."
The dorm room door was sealed with Elior's magic fire, a code that only he could summon.
Kael's eyes flickered with faint golden rings as he watched the flames respond.So this was Elior's domain.One small, elegant room. Personal. Sacred.
"Why… why are you alone in this room?" Kael asked, his voice low, curious, calculating.
Elior's gaze dropped."This… it's the No. 1 class. Prestigious. Powerful. Only one person per room is assigned."
Kael's lips curved almost imperceptibly.He didn't say anything. He simply stepped inside, letting the door close with a soft thud behind him.
Kael's gaze swept the space meticulously, lingering over every corner, every shadow, every faint scent of Elior's presence. Elior shivered, half in anticipation, half in unease, as he moved toward the bath.
Kael settled into the chair near the study desk, back straight, every movement controlled but deliberate. The silence was loud, echoing with Kael's measured breathing. Even in quiet, his attention clung to Elior—how he moved, how he thought, how he existed.
Elior paused mid-step, realizing Kael's eyes were on him still. His heart hammered. He's in my room… and I can't… I can't just act normal.
Kael's gaze sharpened, tracing the faint scent of Elior in the room. He adjusted slightly, leaning just a fraction closer, though he never touched. Every micro-movement was a claim, a warning, a declaration: Here. Now. Mine.
Elior's mind spun, unease curling into a twisted thrill. He knew Kael wouldn't cross the line… yet. But he felt the hunger, the silent assertion, the unspoken warning that no one—not even he himself—could outrun.
Kael's eyes flicked to the bath door, then back to the desk, lingering on Elior's study notes, his bag, the faintly burning magic residue left behind—everything about him fascinated Kael, every mundane detail made the tension pulse tighter.
Elior tried to calm his pulse, to convince himself Kael was just waiting patiently. But the air was charged, heavy, intimate… almost suffocating. Every sound—water trickling, his own breath, Kael's shifting—felt magnified.
Not just looked at. Not just noticed. Studied. Possessed.
And deep down, the knowledge thrilled him and terrified him in equal measure.
Elior stepped out of the bathroom with damp hair, rubbing it dry with a towel. His movements were simple, routine… but to Kael, they hit too deep. He was leaning against the wall, one shoulder pressed to it, ankles crossed, arms folded loosely. He looked relaxed from outside — but his chest felt anything but.
He watched Elior quietly.
Not hungrily.
Not possessively.
Just… with that strange ache again.
The same ache he didn't understand in this life, but had lived through once already.
Elior didn't notice him at first; he was busy adjusting his collar and shaking out his damp bangs. That small, harmless thing — the way he pushed his hair back — was exactly the same as before. The same from the life Kael hadn't yet remembered, but whose memories kept bleeding through in the form of feelings he couldn't explain.
Kael's throat tightened.
This again…?
Why does it look like I've seen this a thousand times? Why does it feel like I lost this once?
Elior turned slightly, still wiping his neck, humming under his breath. A soft, almost shy smile tugged at his lips for no reason. And Kael froze — really froze. Because that smile… that exact smile…
It hit him like a punch.
His eyes stung before he could stop them. One tear slipped down without permission. Not from sadness alone, not from longing alone — but from that heavy realisation settling deep inside him:
Possession never gave him happiness.
Obsession never returned what he lost.
But this simple moment… Elior existing peacefully in front of him… did.
Kael didn't blink.
Didn't move.
Didn't speak.
He just watched him with a tenderness so real it hurt.
He realised something in that quiet second — something he couldn't deny anymore:
In his previous life, he had been selfish. He held on too tightly, wanted too much, demanded too much… and in the end, he lost everything, including the one person who treated him with warmth.
And now Elior was here again.
Smiling the same way.
Breathing the same way.
Existing the same way.
Kael didn't deserve to see this again.
But he was seeing it anyway.
That contradiction — happiness and guilt twisted together — made his chest burn.
The only thought inside him was painfully clear:
I don't want to own him. I just… don't want to lose him again.
Elior finally noticed him.
He paused, startled for a second, then smiled shyly as their eyes met.
That smile was small.
But it shattered Kael completely.
Because in that smile, Kael saw everything he once failed to protect — and everything he had been given one more chance to cherish.
Quietly, without meaning to, he breathed out:
"…Thank you for being here."
He didn't say it loud.
He didn't say it for Elior.
It slipped out for himself — an admission, a realisation, a quiet surrender to the truth:
This wasn't obsession.
This wasn't possession.
This was the kind of love that wants to protect, not control.
The kind that fears losing more than it desires gaining.
The kind that finally understands its own mistakes.
Elior blinked, confused by Kael's soft expression, and his cheeks flushed a little.
Kael just kept watching him — not like someone starving for him, but like someone who finally understood the value of what he had been given back.
And for the first time, he felt peace.
Elior stepped closer, towel still in his hands, eyebrows pulling together.
"…Why are you crying?"
Kael blinked, caught off guard. He wiped the tear quickly with the back of his hand, almost annoyed with himself.
"It's nothing," he muttered. "Maybe dust."
Elior didn't believe it, but he didn't push.
He simply said softly, "…Let's go."
Kael cleared his face, expression settling into that controlled calm again, and followed him out.
When they reached the academy gates, a carriage was waiting—dark wood, silver detailing, and a driver sitting at the front holding the reins. Kael opened the door for Elior and let him climb in first, then stepped in and sat beside him.
The moment the door closed, it felt like the world outside disappeared.
Just the two of them and the quiet hum of the wheels.
After a few minutes of silence, Kael asked, "Where is your house?"
"Not too far," Elior replied. "Five… maybe six miles."
The carriage began moving. The road was smooth, the lanterns flickering softly against the windows. Elior sat with his hands on his lap, fixing his sleeves, brushing his hair back as it dried. Kael watched every small motion without even realizing how intensely he was doing it.
Eventually, Kael asked quietly, "Your parents… what are they like?"
Elior hesitated, then answered honestly.
"They're busy… always. They gave me everything—clothes, tutors, a good home. But not time."
He exhaled. "Sometimes it felt like… even if I disappeared, they wouldn't notice for a while."
Kael's jaw tightened slightly.
He didn't interrupt.
He just listened, absorbing every word.
Hearing Elior talk like that made something ache deeply inside him.
Part of him hated that Elior ever felt that invisible.
Another part of him understood loneliness too well.
He watched Elior's eyes when he talked, the little sadness hiding under his usual smile.
This—this—was when Kael understood something new:
Possession didn't give him anything real.
Having someone close didn't mean peace.
But this moment, listening to Elior openly, understanding the parts no one noticed—
this brought a strange, painful peace he hadn't felt before.
Kael asked softly, "So… you didn't get much love."
Elior shrugged. "It's okay. I got used to it."
Kael didn't say it out loud, but the thought cut through him like truth:
If you were mine… I wouldn't let you get used to that.
The carriage kept moving, lanterns glowing warm along the road.
Kael noticed everything—Elior tapping his fingers lightly when he got excited, the little smile that slipped out when he remembered something, his laugh that surprised even himself.
Every detail tightened something in Kael's chest.
After about two hours, the carriage turned onto a wide stone path lined with tall trees. At the end stood a mansion—large, elegant, guarded. Not overly decorated, but undeniably noble.
The carriage stopped.
Kael stared out the window, stunned for a moment.
"…This is your house?" he asked quietly.
Elior nodded casually. "Yeah. I didn't describe it much earlier. I forgot."
Kael didn't respond immediately.
He took in the guards, the banners, the architecture—clear signs of high status.
He had expected something ordinary.
But this—
Elior belonged to a noble, powerful background.
Almost equal to Kael's own… just a little lower.
Kael looked at Elior again—this gentle boy who talked like he grew up small and unnoticed.
He didn't even understand the world he belonged to.
And just like before in the room, Kael felt that quiet ache again—
the mix of sadness, protectiveness, and the feeling that fate had looped them back together.
The driver halted the carriage in front of the mansion gates. Elior pushed the door open slowly, stepping down onto the stone path with his bag in hand. Kael followed him out, stopping just a step behind, eyes fixed only on him.
Elior turned back with a small smile. "Okay… I'm home."
Kael didn't return the smile.
His voice was soft, but tense.
"When will you come back to the dorm?"
Elior blinked, surprised by how quickly he asked.
"Maybe… one day. Or two. It depends on how things go here."
Kael's eyes tightened. "Do you want me to pick you up?"
Elior sighed gently, shaking his head. "No need. Really."
Kael didn't move. "Elior—"
"I don't want you to wait for me for hours," Elior interrupted softly. "I know you'll come early and stand somewhere outside like an idiot."
Kael frowned. "…I will not."
"You will," Elior said, smiling because he knew the truth. "And I don't want to exhaust you. I'll come back on my own. Alone. Without anyone else."
Kael's jaw clenched the moment he heard alone.
He looked away for a second, then back at him.
"…I still want to come."
"I know," Elior whispered, "but… don't. For now, just go back and rest. Otherwise I'll feel guilty for making you travel so far just to drop me home."
Kael's breath slowed.
Unwilling.
Unhappy.
But he respected Elior's small request more than his own desire.
"…Fine," he said finally.
Elior's smile softened. "Good. Now go. I'll be back soon."
Kael didn't move until Elior turned toward the gates.
He watched him walk, step by step, until the guards opened the entrance and Elior disappeared safely inside.
Only then did Kael exhale.
A quiet, empty breath.
Elior stepped through the gates, feeling Kael's gaze still lingering on his back even after the carriage left. The guards bowed deeply, and the mansion doors opened automatically with old magic.
And there—
right in the center of the grand entrance hall—
stood Aevrin.
Not waiting nervously.
Not standing politely.
Standing like someone who belonged there more than Elior did.
One hand in his pocket, posture loose and confident, back straight, chin slightly lifted.
When he saw Elior, his smile curved—slow, warm, and possessive in a way that felt far too familiar.
"Took you long enough," Aevrin said, walking forward with leisurely steps. "I started thinking you'd run away."
Elior stiffened. "Aevrin… you're… here?"
"Of course." Aevrin shrugged lightly. "Your parents asked me to stay for dinner. They said I should welcome you."
His eyes softened.
"And I didn't mind. I like being here."
The tone—that softened warmth—hit Elior harder than it should.
Aevrin always spoke like this.
Like every word he said was dipped in quiet affection he never named aloud.
Elior lowered his gaze. "You didn't have to wait right at the door…"
Aevrin stepped closer, brushing past Elior's shoulder, close enough for Elior to catch the scent he always associated with him—cedar and warm herbs.
"I wanted to," Aevrin said simply. "This house feels empty when you're gone."
Empty?
This huge mansion?
Elior's throat tightened.
Before he could answer, a servant approached with a respectful bow.
"Welcome home, Young Master Elior. Young Master Aevrin has been waiting here since before sunset."
Elior's eyes widened slightly. "Since… sunset?"
Aevrin shot the servant a mild look—soft, warning, almost embarrassed.
Then he turned back to Elior, his tone gentle but confident.
"I didn't want you to walk into an empty hall," he said. "You always look tired when you come home."
Elior's breath hitched.
Why did that feel… too observant?
Aevrin took another step, closing the last bit of space between them.
"Come on," he murmured. "Your mother has been pacing. Your father pretended he wasn't worried but kept asking the time. And I…"
His eyes flicked down to Elior's slightly flushed cheeks.
"…I was waiting for you. Obviously."
Elior didn't know what to say.
Aevrin touched his elbow gently—guiding him inside in a way that felt natural… like he had done it a thousand times.
Like he had always been just one step behind Elior.
As the doors closed, the house swallowed them in warm light.
Outside, Kael's presence faded into the distance.
Inside, Aevrin walked beside him with a steadiness that felt dangerously comforting.
Elior stood between two worlds—
One dark, intense, consuming.
One warm, familiar, quietly possessive.
And neither would let him go.
Elior didn't know it yet—but one presence already burned for him,and another, far in the shadows, had always belonged to him.
Yet Elior's heart, his eyes, his trembling breath…responded only to the first.
—by Aurea;"One stood close in quiet ache, the other afar in quiet love—both destined to shape him."