The day after the ritual, Dorian lay motionless in his bed, his body weak and sore, yet his heart oddly light. The pain that had once engulfed his every thought seemed distant, dulled by the presence of the person sitting quietly at the edge of the bed—Caius.
Caius stayed with him, watching over Dorian as he recovered. It was a strange feeling for both of them, this calm after the storm. Just yesterday, Dorian had risked everything, nearly tearing apart his very soul to free Caius from the chains of purgatory. The ex-demon now looked more human than Dorian had ever seen him, his eyes softer, his demeanor gentler. There was no longer the heavy aura of otherworldly torment that had once clung to him.
Caius was... free.
Dorian stirred in his bed, his body protesting with every small movement. His limbs felt heavy, as though they were made of lead. The ritual had nearly killed him, and now it was as if his entire being needed time to remember how to exist without the void gnawing at his insides. Caius noticed Dorian's subtle shift and leaned closer, his voice unusually tender.
"You should rest. You've been through too much." Caius' words were soft, filled with concern.
Dorian offered a weak smile, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's... fine. I'm used to pain."
Caius frowned, a flicker of guilt flashing in his eyes. He had witnessed Dorian's pain, both physical and emotional, over the past month. He had seen the reckless abandon with which Dorian had lived, the burden of a life weighed down by loneliness, confusion, and secrets. Yet, it was because of Dorian's strength that Caius was free. For that, he was grateful beyond words.
"I know," Caius said, his voice barely audible. "But you shouldn't have to be."
For a long while, the room was filled with silence, the kind that settled between people who had been through something beyond comprehension. There was a mutual understanding between them now, one that didn't need to be spoken aloud. The bond that had been growing between them over the last month felt stronger than ever.
Dorian shifted again, his body aching, but this time he reached for Caius, his fingers brushing against the demon-turned-human's arm. "Thank you for staying," he whispered, his voice raw with exhaustion and something more—something vulnerable.
Caius looked down at Dorian's hand, the warmth of the touch surprising him. For so long, he had been distant, detached from human emotions. But now, with Dorian, things were different. He felt things he couldn't quite name.
"Of course," Caius murmured. "I wouldn't leave."
Their eyes met, and in that moment, the air between them seemed to thicken with unspoken words, emotions too fragile to be voiced. Caius broke the eye contact first, his brow furrowing as if he was wrestling with something inside him. After a few moments of silence, he spoke again, his voice hesitant.
"Dorian... there's something I need to talk about."
Dorian blinked, the fog of his exhaustion lifting just enough for him to focus on Caius' tone. He sensed the seriousness in the other man's voice, the way his usual calm exterior was cracking just a bit.
