Morning came quietly to the mansion. Light fell through tall windows, painting the halls in pale gold. Elior stirred, unaware that Aevrin had already slipped out. The faint scent of cedar lingered, the ghost of his presence—obsessive, patient, unrelenting.
Elior rose, dressed quickly, freshened himself, and made his way toward the grand hall. The house was still. Too still. Every step echoed faintly on polished floors.
In the hall, his parents were already seated. Lady Seraphine's posture was perfect, distant, but softened slightly as she saw him. Lord Alistair's smile was polite, habitual. Aevrin lingered behind Elior, calm, a shadow that drew attention without a word.
"Good morning, Mother. Father," Elior said softly, bowing lightly.
"Good morning, Elior," Lady Seraphine replied. Her eyes flicked briefly toward Aevrin, though she said nothing.
"Breakfast is ready. Sit," Lord Alistair said, voice steady.
Elior moved toward the table. Aevrin followed, intentionally close, sliding a plate toward him. "You'll like this," he said, low, almost teasing. "Your favorite."
Elior's fingers brushed the plate. "Thank you," he said, polite but unwilling. His cheeks warmed slightly, catching Aevrin's quiet smirk.
Aevrin leaned a fraction closer, deliberately. "You can pretend with everyone else," he murmured. "But I see you. Always."
Elior froze. Words stuck. The weight in Aevrin's gaze was oppressive and intimate, calculated and claiming.
Breakfast passed in tense quiet. Aevrin spoke little but every word was deliberate, every gesture measured. Elior barely noticed—until the moment came to leave.
"I should be going… academy today," Elior said, bowing to his parents.
"Stay at least two days," Lord Alistair said, frowning slightly. "It's been too long since you've been home."
Elior shook his head politely. "I'll come when I can. On rest days… the days when the academy pauses."
Lady Seraphine's sigh was faint but sharp with disappointment. Aevrin's eyes caught Elior's face—calm, distant, unaware of how much tension hovered between them.
As they left the hall, Aevrin's voice came softly. "Come with me," he said.
Elior didn't break stride. "No. I'll go alone."
Aevrin's smirk remained. "You always choose to walk alone."
"I do," Elior said.
Outside, the carriages waited. Elior froze. Kael stood there, tall, immovable, black coat brushing the ground, aura dark, magnetic.
"Kael…" Elior's chest tightened. "I told you not to come… but you did."
Kael's eyes were fixed, sharp. "I'm here. The road isn't safe. Wolves wander where the Black Tiger should reign."
Aevrin's voice cut through, low and dangerous. "I see… you come for what isn't yours."
Kael's lips curved, faint, dangerous. "I come for what belongs here. For him."
Elior's heart raced. The air between Kael and Aevrin was heavy with obsession, possession, rivalry—tension that felt alive.
Elior looked at Kael. "Then… I'll go with you."
Kael's smirk deepened. "Sometimes… no matter how hard they try, even the most persistent… they don't get the chance. Fate decides what belongs where."
Aevrin's jaw tightened. He allowed a thin smirk, but his eyes were sharp, calculating. "Then I'll plan… carefully."
The carriage door opened. Kael motioned Elior inside, a slight, deliberate pull of his hand, firm but controlled. The ride would begin, and the tension was already suffocating, electric, inevitable.
"..."
The carriage door shut with a muted thud.
Elior sat beside Kael, unaware of how close he really was—how close Kael had been wanting him for days, months, maybe lifetimes.
The moment their shoulders brushed, Kael felt it—
that sharp, burning pull low in his chest.
He inhaled once.
Slow. Dangerous.
As if steady breaths were the only thing keeping him human.
Elior didn't notice.
He was adjusting the sleeve of his robe, tucked too close, the faintest warmth of his skin brushing Kael again.
Kael's jaw tightened.
He was starving.
Not for touch—
for him.
Still, he kept his eyes forward.
He had promised himself patience. Control.
One wrong move, and he'd devour the boy without giving him the chance to breathe.
The carriage rolled over a tiny pebble.
Elior lurched—
a small, innocent gasp—
—and landed against Kael's side.
Kael froze like something feral cornered.
Elior blinked up at him, flustered.
"S-Sorry. The road is—these stones—"
"Mm."
Kael's voice came out lower than he intended.
"Unpredictable."
Elior straightened, trying to put distance—
—but the carriage jolted again, harder this time.
Elior fell forward—
Kael instinctively caught him.
A hand around his waist.
Another bracing his shoulder.
Too close.
Too warm.
Too much.
Elior's breath brushed Kael's throat.
Kael's restraint snapped like a frayed thread.
"Elior…"
That one word had weight—hunger barely caged.
Elior swallowed.
"W-What? Did I—did I step on your foot?"
Kael's lips twitched upward.
"No. But you're testing me."
"I'm—what?"
Elior blinked, genuinely confused.
Kael didn't explain.
He couldn't.
Not with his heart slamming against his ribs like a beast trying to escape its cage.
Not with Elior's scent right under his skin, or his fingers still clutching Kael's clothes as if he had nowhere else to hold on to.
Another jolt.
This one—
small, barely anything—
but enough to tilt Elior forward.
His lips brushed Kael's.
Not a kiss.
Not intentional.
Just a soft, breath-light touch.
But to Kael?
It was the first bite of forbidden sweetness.
Elior jerked back instantly, eyes wide.
"O-Oh— I didn't— I wasn't—"
Kael couldn't hear anything.
Blood roared in his ears.
He shut his eyes.
Exhaled once.
Slow. Controlled.
Barely.
When he looked at Elior again, something deep and dark gleamed in them.
Not anger.
Not surprise.
Hunger.
Not lust.
Not explicit.
A deeper, older hunger—
the kind that made a man starve himself for the right moment.
Elior whispered, barely audible,
"Kael… are you… okay?"
Kael leaned in just a fraction—
not touching—
but close enough that Elior felt the heat.
"Do you know," Kael murmured, voice roughened,
"how hard it is to sit beside you and pretend I'm calm?"
Elior's breath hitched.
"I—I'm not doing anything…"
"That's exactly the problem."
The carriage hit another pebble.
Elior flinched—
Kael caught him again, steadier, firmer than before.
Elior flushed, gripping Kael's sleeve.
"I'm trying not to fall."
Kael's lips curved in a slow, dangerous smile.
"And I'm trying not to take that as an excuse to keep you right here."
Elior froze—
caught between embarrassment and something unnamed, burning at the edges of his nerves.
Kael pulled back just slightly, forcing himself to breathe again.
"You're safe," Kael said, low and strained.
"But don't expect me to pretend I don't feel anything when you keep falling into me."
There was no threat.
No demand.
Just raw honesty—
hungry, restrained, shaking on the edge.
Elior stared down at his hands, cheeks scarlet.
"…Then I'll try not to fall again."
Kael's laugh was quiet—soft, but far from harmless.
"Don't make promises you can't keep."
And the carriage continued forward—
Elior trying to steady himself,
Kael fighting every instinct to pull him closer,
and the air so thick with restrained desire it felt alive.
"..."
The classroom was loud until Elior walked in.
Then… like always… eyes followed him.
Kael walked beside him, the memory of the carriage still burning under his skin. He looked calm, but the moment Elior's sleeve brushed his wrist, Kael's jaw tightened once — just once — before he controlled it.
They reached the last row.
And of course—
Aevrin was already sitting there.
Calm. Straight-backed. A polite smile fixed perfectly on his lips.
"Good morning, Elior," Aevrin said, tone warm, eyes locked on him like nothing else existed.
Elior gave a small nod.
Kael didn't bother hiding the way he scanned Aevrin from head to toe — like inspecting a threat.
Aevrin's eyes flickered to Kael.
"Morning to you too," he added.
But that smile… that smile was meant to irritate.
Kael dropped into the seat beside Elior, stretching his arm casually across the back of Elior's chair — a clear claim.
Aevrin noticed. Of course he did.
His smile sharpened.
"So," Aevrin began, voice mild, "you must have enjoyed… the morning."
Kael didn't look at him.
He just smirked.
"Hmm. I did," Kael said slowly, lazily. "Hard not to enjoy it… when Elior walks straight to me."
Aevrin's fingers paused mid-page in his notebook.
Barely a second — but Kael caught it and his grin widened.
"Strange," Aevrin replied softly, leaning just slightly forward. "I thought family would be the first choice. But I suppose… habits change."
Kael turned his head.
Their faces were close — too close for two people pretending to be polite.
"Oh, they do," Kael murmured.
"Especially when someone tries too hard to be the first choice… and still ends up second."
Elior blinked.
"Are you two… fighting?"
"No," Aevrin said instantly, smile calm.
"Not at all," Kael said at the same time, but his smirk said otherwise.
Aevrin's eyes narrowed — only for a heartbeat — then he shifted closer, pretending to adjust the shared desk. His elbow brushed Kael's forearm on purpose, but he acted like it meant nothing.
Kael didn't move away.
He leaned in just the same amount, a perfect mirror.
Aevrin's voice dropped to a whisper meant only for Kael.
"You look… tense," he murmured. "Did the carriage ride tire you?"
Kael's smirk froze, then deepened.
"You'd know if you were there," he replied. "But you weren't. Elior didn't choose you. Again."
Aevrin's smile didn't crack — but something in his eyes burned hotter.
He tilted his head, lowering his voice to an almost playful tone:
"I wouldn't be so confident," Aevrin said. "You're holding onto him like someone scared of losing."
Kael's eyes darkened.
"And you," Kael whispered back, "are reaching like someone who's already lost."
Elior stared between them, confused.
"You two are acting weird…"
Aevrin instantly switched back to his gentle tone.
"No, Elior. We're just… talking."
Kael slid his knee against Elior's under the desk — slow, almost incidental — and Elior jolted slightly.
Aevrin saw the reaction.
Not the touch, just Elior's response.
And his smile sharpened like a blade.
He leaned back, resting an arm on the desk, fingers brushing close to Elior's notebook. Almost touching his space. Almost.
"So, Kael," he said softly, "no matter how close you sit… that does not guarantee anything."
Kael looked him dead in the eyes.
"It guarantees enough," he replied.
Aevrin's lips curled.
"Well," he breathed, tone sliding into something wickedly amused, "let's see… how long enough lasts."
The three of them sat in silence—
Elior unaware, Kael burning, Aevrin plotting.
And the rivalry finally had a place to grow.
—by Aurea;"One's desire burned in silent restraint, the other's in cunning pursuit—yet neither could escape the pull of him."