The Celestials [Taegyu]

Chapter 07 ; Rescue

song ; breakin' dishes (rihanna)

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Viken sat silently on the sofa, his thoughts spiraling out of control. The conversation around him faded into the background, as if Terry, Lucien, and Eugene's voices were being drowned by the chaos in his mind. A heavy realization settled in his chest, and a vivid, horrifying image flashed before him: Cassian, restrained by the High Priest's minions, his life hanging by a thread.

Breaking the tension, Viken's voice cut through the air.

"We need to find Cassian."

Terry, taken aback, regarded him with a mix of confusion and skepticism.

"Why? What's happening?"

Viken hesitated, the truth teetering on the edge of his lips.

"I... I feel that he's in danger."

Lucien's eyes narrowed, suspicion deepening as he stepped closer, his presence imposing.

"Don't try anything foolish, human."

His voice was a low hiss, his red eyes glowing with a threatening intensity. Eugene, sensing the rising tension, placed a hand on Lucien's arm in an attempt to diffuse the situation.

"Easy, pal."

But Lucien remained unconvinced, his crimson gaze locked onto Viken, who felt the weight of their distrust pressing down on him. Terry turned to Viken, doubt evident in his expression.

"What's really going on, Viken? How do you know Cassian's in danger?"

Viken's mind raced. Should he reveal the truth- that he was their creator, the one who had brought them to life through his manga? Yet the urgency to save Cassian overshadowed everything else. There was no time for explanations.

Without a moment's pause, Viken sprinted toward the door, his heart pounding in his chest.

"Viken!"

Terry's voice echoed behind him, accompanied by the hurried footsteps of Lucien and Eugene.

Viken's sole focus was the town hall podium. The image was clear in his mind, as if he had drawn it himself- because he had. He was convinced that Cassian was there, held captive by the High Priest's minions.

Terry was closing the distance, his voice rising in urgency as he called out Viken's name. His breath came in ragged gasps as he brought Viken to the ground, pinning him down with an unexpected strength. The impact left them both momentarily stunned, the urgency of their pursuit fading as their eyes locked.

Terry's hands cradled Viken's head, his arms forming a protective shield around him. His heart raced, yet time seemed to stretch as he took in the scene before him. Viken lay beneath him, his body tense but motionless, his emerald eyes wide and shimmering with a mix of fear, determination, and something deeper- something tender.

Viken's features were delicate, almost ethereal in the dim light. His skin was smooth, a soft flush coloring his cheeks from their sprint. His blond hair fanned out around him. Each strand seemed to glow, accentuating the sharpness of his jawline and the fullness of his lips.

Terry's gaze lingered on those lips, slightly parted as Viken struggled to catch his breath. The gentle rise and fall of Viken's chest captivated him, drawing his attention to the line of Viken's collarbone, barely visible where his shirt had shifted during their scuffle.

In that instant, Viken radiated a delicate vulnerability that Terry had never seen before. His emerald eyes glistened with unshed tears, reflecting the dim light with a crystalline clarity. They were strikingly large, framed by long, dark lashes that fluttered with each quickened breath. The intensity of his gaze was almost overwhelming, a mixture of fear, frustration, and something that sent Terry's heart racing.

For a brief moment, Terry lost sight of the danger they faced, the reason for their escape, and the life-or-death stakes that loomed over them. All he could see was the man under him; beautiful, fragile Viken looking up at him with those wide, pleading eyes.

But then Viken's voice cut through the haze, urgent and filled with desperation.

"Get off me!"

The words jolted Terry back to reality, breaking the spell that had momentarily captivated him. Viken struggled beneath him, pushing against Terry's chest in a frantic effort to escape. The urgency in Viken's voice replaced the fragile moment with a renewed sense of determination.

With a final, resolute shove, Viken broke free from Terry's hold. He sprang to his feet, wasting no time as he raced toward the town hall.

Terry, still reeling and breathless, muttered a curse under his breath as he watched Viken disappear into the distance.

"Holy shit."

The beauty of the moment had vanished, replaced by the harsh, unyielding reality of the danger they were rushing toward. He pushed himself up and followed, his heart pounding with a mix of dread and resolve.

They arrived at the town hall podium just as the scene Viken had envisioned unfolded before them. Cassian, was being held down, a sword pressed against his neck. The townspeople and Scotland Yard stood by, watching with a chilling indifference, as if they were mere spectators at a performance.

"What the fuck..." Terry cussed under his breath.

Cassian's former regal presence had faded into a mere shadow of its former self. His face was pale, his eyes hollow, and his body trembled with exhaustion. The sight was haunting.

Lucien and Eugene arrived at the scene just as the horrifying sight came into full view. The town hall podium, usually a beacon of order and authority, had been grotesquely transformed into a display of power gone awry.

Cassian's long, silver-white hair, once meticulously styled and flowing in soft waves, was now a tangled mess. The black streak on one side only intensified the stark contrast of his disheveled appearance. Strands of hair clung to his pale face, damp with sweat and smeared with dirt, while the rest hung limply. Cassian's golden eyes, once vibrant with life and wisdom, now appeared dull and weary, clouded by pain and exhaustion.

The sight pierced Lucien's heart like a dagger. His breath caught in his throat, and for a moment, the world around him faded, his crimson eyes widened, glowing with an unnatural intensity as they locked onto Cassian. Every instinct within Lucien screamed for blood, for vengeance against those who had dared to harm the one he cherished.

Eugene, sensing the threat radiating from Lucien, placed a steadying hand on his arm in an attempt to ground him. But Lucien barely registered the touch; his entire focus was consumed by the scene unfolding before him. He gasped for breath, each inhalation shaky and uneven as he fought to maintain his composure, his gaze locked on Cassian.

Viken turned around, locking eyes with Terry, but before he could say anything- "Lucien Lunaris, stay calm." Eugene warns.

But Lucien couldn't hear him over the roar in his ears. His eyes remained fixed on Cassian, who slowly lifted his head, golden eyes searching for Lucien's. When their gazes met, Cassian offered a faint, fragile smile- a silent plea for reassurance, for hope.

That smile- so delicate, so tinged with pain- was the breaking point. Lucien's fury surged, his breath catching as it transformed into a primal growl. He shrugged off Eugene's hand and stepped forward, his body radiating lethal intent. When he finally spoke, his voice was a low, menacing rumble, barely contained.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing to him?"

The words sliced through the tension in the air like a knife, sharp and venomous. The townspeople and Scotland Yard officers turned to face Lucien, but his focus remained solely on Cassian, his eyes ablaze with a fury that promised retribution.

Cassian's body was frail, trembling as he fought to maintain his balance, his legs struggling to support him as he knelt before his captors. His arms, once strong and capable, now hung limply at his sides.

He lifted his gaze as Lucien approached, his golden eyes searching for the familiar comfort and strength he had always found in his lover. When their eyes met, Cassian managed a faint, fragile smile- an expression that, despite its delicacy, conveyed a profound depth of emotion.

"Luci..."

It was a plea for reassurance, a cry for help, and a gesture of love all at once.