Alexios

  The gentle footsteps at the top of the stairs catch my attention before I even hear Arun speak.

  He walks down slowly as one of his small hands trails the banister, the other brushing against his emerald dress robes. It’s a rather simple piece, but on him?

  Absolutely stunning.

  Even the humblest fabrics drape like an absolute masterpiece on him.

  The candlelight spilling from the wall sconces highlight some of the loose strands of his curly hair and the warmth of his skin in a way that makes him look… luminous.

  I really shouldn’t stare.

  But the way his eyes meet me makes it absolutely impossible to look away.

  “Arun…” I pause, desperate to try and swallow that swell of sentiment that threatens to spill way too easily. “You look unreasonably divine.”

  I see the smallest little ghost of a smile at his mouth as he looks down, a slight blush warming up those beautiful cheeks of his. He’s still not used to compliments like this, but I mean every damn syllable.

  “It’s just dinner, Alexios.”

  I can’t help but laugh softly at his words.

  “With you, nothing is ‘just’”

  I step forward and offer my arm. My fingers brush his sleeve and even though it’s a light touch, I feel a subtle tension in him. Likely remnants of everything that’s been left unsaid between us.

  I want to tell him it’s not just beauty that I see, but rather the way he steadies me just by standing there, allowing me to breathe the same air as him, but… not yet.

  Not tonight at least.

  Tonight, I should make him feel wanted. Truly wanted. I’ll make sure the night is about him.

  No business deals.

  No politics.

  Just us.

  The carriage waits at the foot of the steps outside, lanterns glowing warm in the evening. I offer my hand to help him in. He hesitates a bit, but he finally takes it.

  His hand is so warm in mine.

  The driver eventually sets the horses in motion and the world beyond the windows blur into little shadows.

  Arun keeps his eyes on anything but me and I can’t really blame him.

  “It’s a clear evening,” I say finally.

  He nods his head in agreement but doesn’t turn to look at me.

  “It is.”

  A small wall is between us and I want bridge it, but I know he’s not ready for me to close every distance yet.

  “You’ll like the place,” I try again. “The owner’s an old friend of mine. He’ll give us a private table, good wine and more food than we can finish.”

  His eyes slide to me then.

  “A friend like the servants are to you?”

  There’s no accusation in his tone, but it feels like a blade in the chest anyway.

  “No,” I answer firmly. “Not like that.”

  He looks at me for a few seconds longer before looking away to watch the road. I want to tell him that I regret what I did and that I hate how he has to look at me with doubt, but I know my regret isn’t enough here. I’ll have to earn his trust back one steady step at a time.

  For now, I’ll let the quiet return. My hand rest on the seat between us and it’s just close enough that if he really wanted to, he could reach for it.

  He doesn’t.

  But he doesn’t move further away either and maybe for tonight, that’s something.

  The carriage finally slows as we pull up to an elegant building tucked between a few trees lit up with lanterns. The subtle hum of music drifts out when the door opens for another guest.

  I step down first and offer my hand to Arun again. This time, he takes it without any hesitation. I guide him to the entrance as I keep my steps slow. I want it to feel more like we’re just out on a walk rather than stepping into a room full of strangers’ eyes.

  The owner recognizes me instantly, bowing his head with a smile that doesn’t feel rehearsed.

  “Your table is ready,” he says. “Quiet and away from the crowd. Just as you requested.”

  I nod, but I keep my eyes on Arun to gauge his reaction. The atmosphere inside the restaurant is warm and the main dining hall is a wash of beautifully lit candlelight, low conversation and the occasional burst of laughter from a table that’s had one too many glasses of wine.

  Thankfully out path veers away from that. We step through an archway into a smaller alcove dressed in thick drapery and only three tables, all spread out from one another.

  Our table is by the window and the view opens onto the moonlit courtyard where ivy climbs the stone wall. A single candle waits at the center and I pull Arun’s chair out for him so he can take a seat.

  “I thought you’d prefer somewhere we can actually hear each other.”

  He sits and smooths out his sleeves before he whispers his thanks.

  When I take my seat a few seconds later, I don’t reach for the specialty wine list immediately. I watch him instead. I admire the way the candlelight pulls that bit of bronze from his read skin and how the shadows move against his jaw. I chose this specific table, this exact corner, this entire restaurant so nothing and no one would intrude on him tonight.

  The server appears with wine and water so I order for us, dropping the edge of command I’ve too often used. Tonight isn’t about control.

  When the server leaves, Arun glances out the window.

  “It’s… peaceful here.”

  It feels like a small crack in the wall he’s kept around himself these past weeks and I allow myself the smallest smile.

  “That’s the point,” I say as I pour his glass first.

  The wine is rich and catches the light as I swirl it around. I finally take a sip and watch as Arun pauses a bit before lifting his own glass.

  “A little bird told me you’ve been painting again,” I say lightly

  He looks at me and then down at the wine.

  “A little bit.”

  “I’d like to see them… when you’re ready.”

  He almost smiles.

  “Maybe.”

  I feel the knot in my chest loosen as I reach for the bread, tearing off a piece and placing it on his plate without comment.

  He’s softening for you, Alexios. You’ve always known how to make them bend for you.

  I force my hand to stay steady as I move it back to my lap. I don’t want to answer her with my thoughts. It’ll just encourage her.

  Arun dips the bread into the oil and I see his eyes move around the room to take in the atmosphere even more.

  “You’re quiet tonight, Alexios.”

  “Trying to listen more,” I shrug.

  You’ve never had to listen. You take and they give. That’s the way of things. You should know that by now.

  I roll my eyes and look past Arun to the courtyard for a moment to try and focus on the way the ivy shifts in the breeze.

  “Listening,” Arun says slowly. He puts the bread down and meets my eyes fully for the first time since we sat down at the table. “That’s new.”

  I don’t think it’s meant to really… wound me, but there is truth to it and I choose to accept the sting. I deserve it.

  I reach for my glass of wine again. Whatever she thinks, tonight isn’t about me. It’s about him willingly sitting across from me to share a meal at the same table without turning away.

  That’s what it’s truly about.

  The first course arrives, carrying the delicious scent of nutmeg and thyme as roasted squash soup laced with cream is placed in front of us. Arun thanks the server softly before lifting his spoon. I watch the way he stirs once before tasting the food and how his shoulders ease just slightly after taking that first sip.

  “Do you like it?” I ask.

  He nods quickly.

  “Better than I expected.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment to my choice of restaurant.”

  There it is again. That almost smile.

  Another sliver of affection for you. Keep him like this and he’ll forget the rest, won’t he?

  I grit my teeth behind a swallow of wine.

  Don’t act like you don’t want him to forget. You’re only lying to yourself. You’d have his trust back if you could snatch it from his hands without the trouble of earning it, yes?

  Thank the gods, Arun’s voice pulls me back into reality.

  “The deals with the town that you mentioned. How long have you been working on them?”

  “Months,” I answer. “I just didn’t want to promise you something before I knew it was certain, I guess.”

  “And now?”

  “Well… now I hope it’s clear that it’s not just a passing thought. These business deals for the plantation are meant to last. For both of us. But I meant what I said. This isn’t about buying you back.”

  “Good,” he says sharply. “Because I’m not someone people can just… buy anymore.”

  I reach for my soup and let the heat of it try to steady me. Arun returns to his meal too, but the silence doesn’t feel too heavy now. There’s still mistrust here and it’s coiled like a serpent, but to my gratefulness, it isn’t striking.

  The second dish of river trout with lemon butter arrives and Arun thanks the server again. He’s slower to take the first bite this time. I think he’s waiting for me to take the first bite so I do and only then does he follow.

  “It’s good,” I say as I put my fork down. “But I’ve been spoiled by our cooks at home.”

  Arun rolls his eyes playfully.

  “Don’t tell the chef here that.”

  There’s a trace of humor in his voice and I seize on it.

  “I’ll keep his pride intact then. Tell me… if you could spend your time doing anything, what would it be?”

  The question takes him by surprise.

  “Anything?”

  “Yes. No obligations. No plantation bullshit. No… me. Just what you want.”

  He looks down at his plate as he lightly dips a piece of fish in the sauce. I’m not sure he’ll actually answer, but then…

  “Painting,” he answers softly. “But not just on… scraps. Large canvases with colors I could never afford in my life. A proper space for it too, I guess.”

  Ah. He’s telling you what he wants. You know you could give it to him and he’d think you’re his salvation, right?

  I ignore her, but my thoughts are already racing.

  “That could be arranged,” I say. “Not as a bribe though. I’d like for it to be a gift.”

  He’s guarded again. I think I may have said too much.

  “And if I refused it?”

  “Then I’d find another way to see you happy,” I say without hesitation.

  You mean you’d find another way to keep him tied to you.

  He gives me a small nod of acknowledgement that he’s heard me. He takes another bite of his food and now it just feels like the space between us is shared ground instead of a battlefield.

  Later on, the dinner plates are cleared and the server returns with the final course. Floral notes fill the air as dainty bowls of lavender laced ice cream drizzled with honey are placed on the table with two cups full of hot tea.

  “You’ll like it” I assure him, sliding one of the bowls closer. “The honey’s from the hills outside of Thistlemere. It’s rich but not overpowering.”

  He picks up his spoon and takes a bite. His eyes widen briefly, but I can tell he’s trying not to show how much he enjoys it.

  “It’s… really good.”

  “Better than you expected?” I ask, echoing his words from earlier.

  Finally, I see an ever so small smile. It’s so small that someone else might miss it, but to me...

  It’s as bright and warm as the sun.

  He’s letting his guard down. You could have him gasping underneath you by nightfall if you wanted.

  I choose to take a slow sip of tea rather than listen to her. Arun takes another bite and then puts his spoon down.

  “You’ve been… different lately.”

  “In a bad way?” I ask hesitantly.

  “No. Just… different. You seem calmer now.”

  “Maybe I’ve been listening to you more than you think.”

  The look on his face is unguarded now and I realize the look in his eyes is rather… soft now.

  Do you think you can keep up this act when you so desperately want to taste him again? Besides… the more you let him soften you up, the more it will hurt when you lose him.

  I refuse to look away from Arun.

  “I’d like to have more nights like this with you,” I tell him. “It would mean more than anything to me.”

  He doesn’t answer, but his hand drifts slightly closer to mine. He isn’t touching me, but it’s close enough that I can tell something has changed between us.

  We finish the ice cream and cups of tea, but neither of us make a move to leave. The alcove is quiet and we can still hear the main dining room buzzing with soft conversation. Somewhere in there, a few bards begin to play. I watch the way Arun’s attention drifts toward the sound of strings and the shimmer of a harp.

  A reckless thought forms, but the night feels too rare to let it just slip away without trying. The worst he could say is no.

  “Would you… like to dance with me?” I ask.

  His eyes snap back to mine, startled.

  “Here?”

  “Why not? There’s enough space in the courtyard and besides, the music’s already playing.”

  He quickly glances toward the archway, probably weighing the risk of being seen.

  “I’m not sure…”

  “You don’t have to,” I respond. I’m not wanting to make it a dare, it’s just an invitation. “But… I’d like to hold you without an audience that wants something from me. Maybe just for one song?”

  I can hear her scoff in my mind, but I ignore her.

  Arun sighs gently then puts his napkin down on the table before he stands.

  “One song,” he answers.

  I stand up as well and offer my hand to him. When he slips his into mine, I’m fiercely reminded of how careful I need to be with him.

  We step into the courtyard and see the bards just inside the open doors. Their music is just enough to feel private. I place one hand at his waist while the other keeps hold of his hand and we begin to sway.

  It’s not a practiced dance by any means, but the moment is ours. For the length of the long, I let myself forget about the voice waiting in my thoughts.

  The first few steps are slightly awkward and our rhythm is uneven. Arun keeps looking up at me and then back to the courtyard ground, unsure which one will trip him faster. I guide us gently and let the music pull us into a much slower sway.

  Eventually, his hand steadies in mine and I can feel the subtle shift of breath through the layers of fabric where my hand still rests at his waist. I can’t look away from his beautiful amber eyes. The light from the lanterns almost makes the color look like fire in his eyes.

  “You’re good at this,” I whisper.

  “I’m not,” he replies, but I see another small smile that betrays him.

  “You’re good at this with me,” I correct myself. I feel his fingers tighten slightly against mine.

  I focus on how perfect Arun feels in my arms and bask in his presence. The music guides us so that our steps finally match without effort. The song drags on and the courtyard feels like our own personal bubble.

  There’s no politics, no shadow of what I’ve done or what he’s seen. It’s just our shared breaths between our movements.

  “I’d like to dance again with you someday,” I say quietly. I want it to be a promise to him.

  He doesn’t answer with his words, but he does lean even closer and I can feel one of his horns press against my chest.

  When the song comes to an end, I let my hand stay on his waist for a bit longer before stepping back.

  “Thank you,” I tell him.

  His expression is unreadable, but he gives a small nod before we return to our table only long enough for me to pay the bill and then we step back into the crisp air. The carriage is waiting for us, but the soft music still fills my mind. I carry the memory of him in my arms and I never want it leave me.

  I help Arun back into the carriage and for the first time all evening, his hand stays in mine for longer than necessary before he finally pulls away. As the door closes, the sounds of the streets are muffled out and the wheels begin their slow roll back home.

  The city slips past and I watch the brief flickers of light dance across his cheek.

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  “Thank you for tonight,” I say, keeping my voice quiet and gentle.

  He turns to me, biting his lip softly.

  “It was… much better that I thought it would be. Thank you.”

  I could take his words as a compliment, but I think it acts as a reminder instead. It reminds me that I’m still standing just outside the gate of his trust and every step forward is one he chooses to allow.

  Stop playing as the gentleman, Alexios.

  Take.

  What.

  You.

  Want.

  You’re going to lose him one way or another. Why not take everything you can before he’s gone?

  I ignore her and lean back against my seat.

  “I’d like to do it again too,” I tell him. “No interruptions or talk of business. Just your company.”

  He glances away again, brows creased in thought.

  “We’ll see.”

  The horses pick up speed and our knees brush as the carriage sways. Arun doesn’t pull back, but he doesn’t move close either. I keep my eyes on him and his full lips.

  Whatever my patron thinks, I know one thing for sure. Tonight was a step forward and I’ll take that over all her promises of shortcuts any day.

  As the manor’s gates come into view, the carriage begins to slow. Lanterns glow along the drive as we eventually roll to a stop.

  I step out first to help Arun out after. He takes my hand and I realize his grip is firmer now, but I don’t think it’s because he trusts me more now.

  He seems more guarded now than when we left the restaurant, like the atmosphere here on the property is heavier.

  The doors of the manor open before we reach them and the servants bow to us in a silent greeting. I feel the tension course through Arun like it always does when others are watching us.

  The main hallways are warm as we step inside as the carriage pulls away again, leaving only the sound of a hearth somewhere down the hall.

  I can almost see the way both comfort and caution coexist in Arun.

  “Thank you again for tonight,” I say. “For coming with me. Your presence is a blessing as usual.”

  “It was good to get out of the house, I suppose.”

  A pause.

  In the restaurant, the silence felt almost easy most of the time, but here… it’s so much heavier. Like the walls are almost listening.

  Playtime is over now, Back to your cage, little tiefling.

  I push her voice away and look down at Arun.

  “You should rest, hmm? It’s late.”

  He nods and steps past me toward the stairs. I watch him go and listen to the echoes of his footsteps. Halfway up, he looks at me over his shoulder and I can’t help but smile at him. He doesn’t look at me for long, but it’s just enough to meet my eyes once more before continuing upward.

  I stand there until he’s finally gone from sight, but I can still feel his presence lingering in the air.

  I close the door to my study behind me to shut out the rest of the manor. The familiar scent of ink and the hearth’s fire wrap around me like an old blanket.

  I sink into the chair behind my desk and sigh dramatically.

  “All evening,” I say into the empty room. “Every time he looked at me, you just had to say something. Why?”

  Because I know you.

  “No,” I counter. “I don’t think you do anymore. I’ve proven my loyalty. I gave you the twenty you asked for. Taken exactly how you ordered me to without hesitation.”

  I lean forward in the chair and feel her laughter flow through the corners of my mind like smoke.

  Yes, you did. Beautifully too, might I add.

  “Then why keep pressing?” I demand. “Why keep spewing your shit in my head?”

  Because killing twenty men for me is easy for you. But keeping your hands off what you want? That’s much harder. I want to see if you will fail.

  I stand abruptly, pacing over to the bookshelves.

  “You think I’ll fail?”

  Sooner or later, that lustful hunger of yours will come back. It always does.

  Her presence somehow presses even closer in my head.

  The boy is a distraction. An incredibly beautiful one. But in the end, he will never be enough for you. I just know it.

  I turn back toward the fire and sigh again.

  “We’ll see.”

  Yes… I assume we will.

  I try to lose myself in a book, letting the rhythm of something I’ve read a million times steady my mind, but I just can’t focus right now.

  I’ve read the same sentence three times and still can’t recall it.

  She’s wrong.

  She has to be.

  I’m halfway through convincing myself when a knock on the door comes.

  “Come in,” I call out as I set the book aside.

  The door opens and Arun steps inside politely. He’s traded the beautiful emerald robe for a sleep shirt that falls slightly above his kneecaps. His tail swishes nervously behind him and his hair is a bit messier now, falling almost to his shoulders in soft, delicate curls.

  “I figured I’d find you here,” he whispers.

  “Couldn’t sleep?”

  He shrugs lightly as I lean back in my chair.

  “Something like that.”

  “Are you alright, love?” I ask, trying to keep my tone open rather than pressing.

  He looks at the bookshelves, the hearth and then back to me.

  “I… I didn’t want the night to end yet.”

  I realize he came here of his own will or on whatever unspoken thing made him knock on the door of my study instead of going to bed. That alone makes me feel like the luckiest man in the world.

  I gesture toward the chair across from me.

  “Would you like to sit?”

  He moves slowly to sit, eventually curling one leg beneath him like the way he does when he’s in his own room and not when he’s keeping distance.

  “Did you want to talk about something?” I ask.

  “Not really. Just didn’t want to be alone, I guess.”

  His words feel more like uncertainty instead of dismissal.

  He’s telling you he wants warmth, Alexios. Give it to him. The way only a man like you can.

  I choose to ignore her, leaning forward to balance my forearms on my knees.

  “I can work in silence or we can talk more. Or… I can just sit here with you until you’re ready to go back upstairs.”

  His eyes search mine in a way that makes me wonder what exactly he’s hoping to find there.

  “You’re still being different… even now.”

  I let out a gentle sigh.

  “I’m trying to be, Arun. For you.”

  Trying? That’s not for you. You are meant to take and own. Do not let him make you small with his slow forgiveness.

  I continue speaking, regardless of her words.

  “If you’re here because you need something… anything at all… you can tell me. I promise I’ll listen.”

  He leans back in his chair as his shoulders loosen a bit.

  “Maybe I just needed to see if you meant it. The listening part.”

  “I do. More than anything.”

  Somewhere deep inside me… that hunger stirs, but I hold it in check. I will not prove her right tonight.

  “Would you like to read together?” I ask. “I can put work away and let you pick something instead.”

  The suggestion catches him off guard. I can see it in his expression.

  “Read… together?”

  “Yes. Right here by the fire. I’ll keep my voice down if you’d rather listen or we can even take turns.”

  For a few moments, he just… sits there trying to process what I’ve proposed to him. Eventually he stands and crosses to the bookshelves. His small fingers drift along the spines and he pauses every now and then, likely testing the feel of each one. I watch him from the chair, fascinated by the care in his touch. Even just choosing a book to him requires thought and patience.

  After some time, he pulls one free. The binding is a bit worn but well kept. The lettering on the spine is still somewhat sharp.

  “This one,” he says, holding it out.

  I take it from him and feel the familiar weight of it.

  “Ah, a good choice.”

  “You’ve read it before?”

  “Many times,” I admit. “But not around you.”

  You’re going to read to him? How… sweet and domesticated of you.

  I swear I can feel a slight touch of disgust in her voice, but I open the book anyway and gesture to the couch closer to the fire.

  “Come here, love. The lighting is better.”

  Arun settles in on the other side, careful to keep some distance between us. That lovely lavender scent of him mingles with the smell of the book’s old paper. I find the first page and keep my voice low as I begin reading to him.

  The story is slow to begin. I speak of a windswept coast, salt in the air and the restless pull of the sea as Arun leans back further into the couch, his head tilting slightly toward me. He keeps his eyes on the fire rather than the page, as if he’s letting the sound of my voice paint the images for him.

  I read on and let my tone shift as I continue reading, dipping a bit lower to mimic the eight of the waves and then softening for the wind.

  This is really what you want, Alexios? You want to pretend you are something that you are just simply not? Are you really made for tenderness?

  I turn a page, refusing to answer her.

  Arun’s breathing is slowing down and his posture is much more loose now. He might actually be falling asleep.

  I keep reading anyway. The truth is… I don’t want this moment to end.

  But after a while, he moves a little.

  “I think I see why you like this one,” he whispers.

  “And why is that, my love?”

  “It feels… kind of like.. it’s not rushing to get anywhere. It’s content to just… stay where it is.”

  I smile gently out of his view.

  “Maybe that’s that I like about it.”

  I read on and the hearth’s fire moves again. I pause at the end of a sentence to turn the page and when I look over at Arun, his eyes are on me instead of the flames.

  “May I… come closer?” he asks.

  His question is almost cautious and I nod, motioning for him to move closer to me. He rises from the end of the couch as he eventually settles into the empty spot at my side.

  All you have to do is reach for him now. He’s offering himself without even knowing it.

  I keep my hands steady on the book and resist the urge to let my eyes drop to his mouth. To resist it even further, I angle the pages so he can see them better too.

  His shoulder brushes mine once as I read. It’s probably accidental, but he doesn’t move away, thank the gods.

  I keep reading so the story can continue carrying us with it.

  After a few minutes, Arun shifts again until his shoulder is firmly against mine. The words on the page don’t falter, but my pulse sure fucking does.

  He leans slightly toward the book, but there’s no actual need to do so. He can see the text just as well from where he was before. I’m beginning to understand it’s not about the story anymore. It’s about being here with him, close enough that his soft breath catches on my sleeve.

  The temptation moves through my body again. I can feel each little movement he makes.

  The shift of his leg.

  The slow intake of breath.

  The slight tilt of his head as he listens.

  “Are you comfortable?” I ask quietly during a pause.

  He nods gently without looking at me as he keeps his focus fixed on the page.

  I turn the page again before dropping my hand down, brushing lightly with his in the motion. He doesn’t pull away.

  He’s right there, Alexios. What will you do with him?

  I keep my voice steady as I read and my restraint just as tight. I want him here like this tonight. He’s leaning into me because he chooses to, not because I’m taking something from him.

  As the fire burns a bit lower, its glow deepens to a gentle amber color.

  Just like his eyes.

  My voice is softer now, but not for effect. More like because it’s late and the room feels hushed now. It’s wrapped up in the moment too.

  Arun shifts again beside me, but this time it’s so that his head can rest fully against my shoulder now. I can feel his soft hair brushing against my sleeve when he breathes.

  I glance down at him between sentences and notice that his eyes are half-lidded, their focus likely quite hazy now.

  “Are you tired?” I ask.

  He exhales slowly.

  “Maybe a little.”

  I close the book gently and ease it onto the side table.

  “Let’s get you to bed then, yes?”

  For a heartbeat, he doesn’t move. Maybe he’s debating the comfort of staying here versus the pull of his own bed.

  “I don’t mind staying a little longer.”

  I stand and offer my hand before I have to listen to more of her shit.

  “Come, I’ll walk you upstairs.”

  After a moment or two, he takes it. His grip is gentle as I lead him out of the study and the fire’s glow fades behind us as we step into the main hallway.

  The manor is incredibly still and the only sounds are our footsteps against the stairs as we climb. When we finally reach his door, I pause.

  “Goodnight, Arun,” I whisper. I mean to step back, but my hand lingers in his for a breath too long.

  I’m aching to kiss him right now.

  He gives a small smile before slipping inside his bedroom, closing the door fully once I’ve turned to go.

  I walk back downstairs alone, but his presence still wraps around me. The study feels so much colder when I re-enter and the fire is nothing but a bed of dimly glowing embers at this point.

  I sink back into my chair, eyes being drawn to the book we’d just been reading. It’s closed on the table now, but it’s a reminder of how close he’d been and how easy it would have been to simply keep him there.

  You let him go when he was right there. So soft. So willing. Yours for the taking.

  I rest my forearms on my knees and stare at the dying fire.

  “I’ve already told you… that’s not what tonight was about.”

  Of course it was, darling. Everything is always about that. When the lust comes again, I bet you will regret turning away from him.

  Her voice fades again and I sit there for a long time as the last of the heat from the fire warms my hands until eventually, the embers dull to a gray color.

  He’s sleeping comfortably and for tonight, that’s more than enough.

  --

  When I finally leave the study, the manor is somehow even quieter than it usually is. It feels almost… fragile. Even my footsteps sound louder than they should as I make my way upstairs.

  My bedroom is dim, the curtains drawn and the air slightly cool from the open window I decided to leave open earlier in the day. I pull off the top layer of my robes and drape it over the couch by the hearth. As I sit on the edge of the bed, Arun’s presence lingers on in my mind.

  His sweet voice when he asked if he could come closer.

  The way his shoulder felt against mine.

  I lean back, stretching out on the mattress as one arm folds beneath my head. My eyes drift along the ceiling and I trace little patterns of shadow there.

  It would have been so incredibly easy to keep him there tonight and let the reading slip into something else, taking what the queen insists is mine.

  But I wanted him to stay because he wanted to, not because I made him do it.

  You’re just making this harder on yourself. You understand that, yes? He won’t always knock on your door.

  I close my eyes and picture him as he was in the carriage, in the courtyard and even in the quietness of the study. The memories settle in my chest and it feels almost… pleasant.

  Tonight truly was a step forward and I am grateful for it.

  I stretch out fully on the bed as the sheets brush against my skin. I keep my eyes closed and let more memories of him replay in softer tones. I miss the warmth of his hand in mine.

  But my mind is a treacherous little thing. That warmth becomes something more. In my mind, his shoulder presses more firmly against me in the study and his voice drops lower when he asks me to come closer. I imagine if he’d stayed.

  The thought sharpens and pulls me into something less innocent. My thoughts drift to a memory of his throat and I picture myself pulling the collar of his shirt aside, feeling the pulse there before my mouth follows.

  The study is even more dimly lit in my thoughts and the fire is casting just enough light to see that delicious flush across his cheekbones as he looks up at me. He’s unsure whether he should move away or lean in. I’d tilt his chin up, my thumb against his jaw, and that book would be forgotten.

  I sigh slowly and my pulse is heavier now, eventually settling a bit lower in my body. I can see him in my mind’s eyes too clearly. His knees brush mine, lips parting just enough to draw me in further and cause my restraint to be much thinner.

  I drag a hand over my face to try and force my breathing to calm down. I won’t go to him tonight, but the memory of him sitting in the candlelight isn’t leaving me any time soon.

  I close my eyes again and let his face fill every shadow in my mind and the room. In my thoughts, the book slides from my lap to the floor, completely forgotten as my hands slip around his lower back, drawing him in until he’s straddling my thigh.

  He’d whimper softly, but his petite fingers would curl in my robes all the same.

  I picture him kissing me shyly, his lips tasting of red wine and honey lavender ice cream, until I pull him in deeper. I’d nip at his lower lip and it would draw a soft moan out of him

  My hands drift lower in the fantasy, pulling him even closer to me. I imagine grinding against him, feeling his cock through the thin layers of his robe and how pretty his gasp would sound when he feels what he’s doing to me.

  His shirt would slip from one shoulder and my mouth would instantly move to taste his gorgeous skin. His head tips back, offering me his throat without thinking and without fear.

  The ache between my thighs is sharp now and so is my breathing. I can hear my heartbeat in my ears and the distance between thought and touch narrows until I have no choice but slide my hand down to grip my own hardened cock.

  The thin restraint I’ve held all night breaks under the weight of craving him.

  That’s it, my Alexios. Now you remember what you are.

  I don’t need to even answer her because in my mind right now, Arun is warm and willing in my arms, and I’m taking my time learning every way to make him fall apart against me.

  My hand strokes slowly at first to match the gentle rhythm of my thoughts. Back in my mind, Arun is close enough now that our foreheads are touching and his breath is warm against my lips.

  His eyes are half-lidded and filled with lust. It’s enough to completely undo me without a single word.

  We’re still in the study and my fingers trail down his spine in the fantasy, feeling the shiver that runs through him as he whimpers again and how he leans instinctively into my touch without another thought.

  He’d kiss me again, but much slower now and almost shy. I’d cup the back of his neck and hold him there as my tongue presses into his mouth, desperate to move against his. That kiss would carry everything I’ve been wanting to say but never dared.

  He would know that he’s more than the heat between us and so much more than the lust that pulls at me every day.

  His thighs would part just enough for me to settle between them and I’d pull moan after moan from his plush lips as I fuck him into the couch and watch those pretty eyes of his roll back in his head.

  My hand in reality tightens even more around my cock to match the rhythm I’m imagining between us.

  I think of the quiet whimpers he’d make and how his fingers would bunch up in my shirt, holding me close like I might disappear if he lets go. The air would be thick with the scent of sex and I’d want to breathe it in until I was absolutely dizzy.

  The pace quickens in my head, the fantasy and the stroking twining together until there’s no line between them anymore. Arun’s mouth would open under mine in a sigh I could taste when he finishes for me with his sweaty chest pressed against mine.

  The thoughts are too fucking much and the tension finally snaps. My orgasm bursts through me in sharp waves as hot spurts shoot out onto my hand and stomach, and I hold onto those thoughts of him. He’d look at me like I’m the only thing in the room.

  The silence after feels heavy but not hollow as I try to catch my breath. I keep him in my thoughts until the edges start to blur.

  Tonight, I’ll let him stay in my dreams, but maybe one day, we’ll see if I can make some part of that fantasy turn into reality.

  The heat of the moment finally fades and I sit up slowly, reaching for a cloth folded neatly on the bedside table. My movements are unhurried, but the buzz of my orgasm still flows through my body.

  As I wipe my skin clean, her voice curls into my head once again. It’s sweet as the honey from the ice cream and twice as sticky.

  So… you resisted him all night only to stroke yourself to nothing but a pretty fantasy of him. How… noble.

  I get under the covers of the bed and lie down, staring at the ceiling.

  “It was a thought. Nothing more.”

  Oh, Alexios. How long until you decide the real thing is worth the risk?

  I close my eyes, but her voice doesn’t fade like I wish it would.

  One day, he’ll be close again and he will look at you the way you imagined. You will not be able to keep your hands to yourself.

  I turn onto my side and pull the covers up over me.

  “Please… just shut the fuck up. For the rest of the night. I’m begging you.”

  Her laugh follows me into the dark as I finally trance.

  --

  The manor is quiet when I eventually stop trancing. It’s likely still too early for most of the servants to begin their day. I dress without lingering too much and ignore the little echo of my patron’s laughter from last night.

  I can smell fresh bread and brewed spiced tea drifting from the kitchen and I follow it toward the smaller dining room. The sun is beaming through the tall windows and Arun is already there. He’s seated at the far end of the table, his hair loose and messy.

  He seems… calm this morning.

  He glances up at me when I enter and for a few seconds, I wonder if he can tell I thought about him last night.

  “Morning,” he says simply.

  I cross over to the table and pour a cup of tea for myself.

  “Morning,” I return, attempting to keep my voice level.

  You could tell him, you know? You could lean across the table right now and tell him every little detail of what you thought about.

  I shake my head gently, more to her than myself, before taking a seat halfway down the table. The silverware clinks softly as he cuts into a piece of bread on the plate in front of him.

  “Did you sleep well?” I ask.

  “Surprisingly, yes.”

  I take a sip of tea, letting the steam cover the slight shift in my breathing as I catch him smiling. The thoughts of him from last night’s fantasy threaten to invade my mind.

  I tear off a piece of bread and dip it into the small dish of honey.

  “You seemed… relaxed last night,” I speak. It’s only an observation.

  Arun takes a slow sip of tea and returns to prod at the food on his plate.

  “I suppose I was. You made it easy to be.”

  The answer catches me off guard and I have to fight to keep my expression neutral.

  “I’m happy to hear that,” I say. I really do mean it too. “Would you want to do something like that again? Dinner and some reading afterward. No business.”

  Arun looks at me for a moment.

  “Maybe. If you keep it like last night.”

  I arch a brow.

  “Meaning…?”

  “No games. Not trying to see how far you can push without asking.”

  His tone is kind and gentle, but I know he means what he’s saying.

  I nod slowly, letting his statement settle between us.

  “I can do that.”

  Can you?

  We eat in silence for a while, but then he glances toward one of the windows and the sunlight catches on some of his curls.

  “It was… nice,” he admits quietly. It seems like the words slipped out before he could stop them.

  The sunlight shifts across the table as the minutes pass, eventually bathing Arun in it. He’s buttering another piece of bread when I put my cup of tea down and look at the empty chair beside him.

  “Would you mind if I sat there instead of across from you?”

  Arun stills for a fraction of a second.

  “Why?”

  I shrug lightly.

  “Well… we always seem to speak across distances now. Whether it’s across desks, rooms or even tables. I thought we might try something different, but only if you’re comfortable with it.”

  “And if I’m not?”

  “Then I’ll stay right where I am,” I answer honestly.

  For a moment, he keeps look down at his plate, weighing my request. Finally, he gives a small nod toward the chair.

  “Go ahead.”

  I move quietly to his side, leaving just enough space so it’s his choice if our arms touch.

  Ask for more, Alexios. See if he’ll keep saying yes.

  He shifts toward me, but ever so slightly.

  “I will sit here as long as you remember the terms,” he says.

  “I will,” I promise.

  --

  The afternoon is quite mild, temperature wise. I step out onto the terrace for a moment alone and let the soft breeze glide through my hair. The gardens stretch beyond, rich with beautiful blues, yellows and pinks swaying gently.

  I’m halfway through drawing a long breath when the sound of the door opening behind me breaks the stillness of the day.

  Arun steps out and looks my way briefly before turning toward the flowerbeds. His steps are quiet as he moves closer to the flowers. He crouches down to get a closer look at one in particular.

  I watch him from where I stand and thankfully, I don’t think he notices me studying him. If he does, he’s pretending not to. His fingers brush lightly over a petal, careful not to disturb it as he smiles.

  The contrast between us strikes me in this moment. He belongs to the day and the open sky above him. The sunlight wraps around him as though it’s claimed him. He looks like he was made for the warmth and brightness of the sun.

  And me?

  I’ve always been more at home in the dark. He’s the sunshine… and I’m the moonlight. We couldn’t be more different in what we reflect, but…

  The breeze carries the gentle scent of flowers and I realize I’m smiling before I can even stop myself.

  Be careful, Alexios. You’ll start thinking you need the sun to survive now.

  I think I already do.

  Arun stands up from the flowerbed after a moment and brushes his fingers lightly against his pants. He looks over at me as he walks over, the sunlight still drenched in his hair.

  When he stops a few steps away, I realize he looks almost… restless.

  Unsettled maybe?

  “You seem distracted,” I say as I watch him.

  He sighs and looks down at the ground before eventually meeting my eyes again.

  “I’m… wound up. I can’t get my thoughts to setting on anything for more than a few minutes.”

  “I know,” I say quietly. “I really am trying to be better, Arun. I don’t expect…”

  “That’s not what I mean,” he cuts in. His voice is rather firm, but not unkind in any way.

  “Then… what do you mean?”

  I can see him trying frantically to find the right words.

  “It’s… physical. Like I’ve been carrying something in my body and it won’t let me focus. I can’t burn it off with work, or walks, or even painting. It just stays there.”

  He sighs again and it sounds more frustrated this time.

  The way he talks about this, the shift in his stance and the faint blush painting his cheekbones?

  He doesn’t need to name it for me to understand.

  There’s your invitation. Are you going to keep playing as the gentleman now?

  Hunger invades my body again, but I try to keep my expression neutral.

  “I see,” I whisper. “And what exactly are you asking me to do about it?”

  I take a slow step toward him and the gravel crunches under my boots as his eyes lock on mine. There’s another shift in his stance. He’s deciding whether to hold his ground or step back.

  I stop close enough that I can see the gentle rise and fall of his breathing.

  “If I were to help,” I say quickly. “How far would you want me to go?”

  “I didn’t say that’s what I came out here for.”

  I smile and let the breeze tug at the edges of my hair again.

  “No… but you’re still standing here.”

  The space between us feels electric now.

  One more step and you’ll have him, darling.

  I look down at his hands hanging loosely at his sides and then meet his eyes again.

  “You said you feel restless,” I say gently. “I want to take that weight off of you, but you’d have to want it too.”

  He swallows harshly and I can see his eyes move to my mouth once before he looks over at the flowers again.

  “You’re… not making it sound unappealing.”

  The hint of heat in his voice ensnares me, but I try to keep still. I’m desperate for him to choose whether the next step here is his or mine.

  Just as I think he’s going to turn away, he steps closer.

  “If you really think you can help,” he whispers. “Then… maybe I’d like for you to try.”

  The permission is unmistakable and my heart is set ablaze in that moment.

  He’s opening the door for you. Do not walk through it patiently. Tear the door from the hinges, Alexios.

  “I’d really like to try,” I echo.

  I refuse to close the last inch between us. Not yet, at least. I want him to feel the weight of the moment and the choice in his hands, not mine.

  My hands remain by my sides.

  “If I change my mind,” he says. “You stop.”

  “Of course,” I answer without any hesitation.

  You're going to be terribly disappointed when he's warm in your arms and you want more than he offers you.

  I ignore her vile words and keep my focus on him. I see the tension in his shoulders and I wait, still letting him lead, until his hand lightly touches mine. It’s enough to tell me that his decision has been made here.

  I let my hand shift as our palms find each other in a gentle clasp that feels more intimate for its restraint. His skin is warm and I can feel a faint roughness at his fingertips telling me about the hours he spends with his paints, brushes and sketchbook.

  “You’re sure about this?” I ask.

  He nods once.

  “I wouldn’t still be here if I wasn’t, Alexios.”

  The sunlight continues to fall across him, painting him in golden light while I stand at its edge, shadowed by the terrace’s overhang.

  Sunshine and moonlight, sharing the same space.

  I curl my fingers even tighter around his hand. It’s not to hold him in place, but only to let him feel my attention.

  “Then let’s see how much of that restlessness I can take away for you.”

  IN LOOOOVE, y'all.