The night was unnervingly quiet, as if the world itself was holding its breath. The sky, a blanket of deep velvet, was devoid of stars, and the crescent moon hung low, casting faint, silvery beams that filtered through Dorian's window. Inside his room, everything seemed surreal—his bed, his desk, the scattered books—nothing felt real, like they were all part of a dream from which he couldn't wake. He lay on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, feeling the weight of the approaching encounter press down on him like a stone.
His heart pounded in his chest, each beat resonating with a mixture of fear, anticipation, and something else he couldn't quite name. He had spent the entire day in a daze, his thoughts a whirlwind of confusion and dread. The realization had hit him with the force of a tidal wave: he didn't want to die. But how could he tell Caius? How could he look the demon in the eye and shatter the bond they had formed, knowing it would condemn Caius to a fate worse than death?
Dorian had no answers, only a growing sense of despair. The words Caius had spoken to him just days before—be aware that following your feelings could come with a cost neither of us can predict—echoed in his mind. The truth was, Dorian didn't know what to do. He had thought about running, hiding, doing anything to avoid the inevitable, but deep down, he knew it wouldn't work. Caius would find him. He always did.
The clock on his bedside table ticked away the seconds, each one a reminder that time was running out. Dorian took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was to come. He knew where he needed to go, where this would all end—under the bed, where their journey had begun.
Slowly, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and lowered himself to the floor. His hands trembled as he knelt down, peering into the darkness beneath the bed. It was a space that had once been a source of childish fears, a place where monsters hide in the night. Now, it was something far more real, and far more terrifying.
"Caius?" Dorian's voice was barely a whisper, but it seemed to carry in the stillness of the room. For a moment, there was no response, only the silence that seemed to stretch on forever. Then, from the shadows, a familiar figure emerged, his form materializing like smoke, solidifying into the demon who had become both a companion and a tormentor.
Caius stood before him, his tall, imposing figure bathed in the soft glow of the moonlight. His eyes, those crimson eyes, inscrutable pools, locked onto Dorian's with an intensity that made Dorian's breath catch in his throat. There was something different about him tonight, a heaviness in his gaze, a tension in the set of his jaw.
"You called me," Caius said, his voice low and almost tender, though there was a raw edge to it that Dorian hadn't heard before.
"I didn't think I had a choice," Dorian replied, forcing himself to meet Caius's gaze. His heart was pounding so hard he was sure Caius could hear it.
Caius took a step closer, the movement slow, deliberate, as if he were weighing each step. "You always had a choice, Dorian," he said quietly. "But tonight... Tonight, the choice is mine."
Dorian's breath hitched, his mind racing to process what Caius was saying. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice trembling despite his efforts to stay calm.
Caius's expression softened, but there was a deep sadness in his eyes that made Dorian's chest tighten. "I can't do it, Dorian. I can't bring myself to kill you." The words hung in the air, a confession that seemed to cost Caius everything to say.
