Seraphiel [TCF X ORV]

VII

~Bittersweet~

Cale sat alone in the waiting room, humming to himself as he nibbled absentmindedly on a chocolate-flavored Pocky stick. The sunglasses, hat, and mask that had once turned him into a walking fashion disaster now lay discarded on the table beside him. He had Aiden to thank for the stash of Pocky, and though he would never say it aloud, he was genuinely grateful. Somehow, the sweet, simple snack made him feel a bit more grounded.

Lost in thought, Cale furrowed his brows, barely noticing the way his hand kept reaching for another piece of Pocky as he chewed. He realized, almost with surprise, how close he had grown to those around him-to Aiden, to Namwoon who had become part of his complicated, unpredictable life in this world. And yet, that closeness carried a shadow. An old, bitter fear began to creep in, an uncertainty gnawing at him like a hidden wound.

'What if I can't protect them?' The question sent a shiver down his spine. In his mind's eye, he saw flashes of his past-a record of horrors he wished he could forget. Blood-streaked walls, dark smoke choking the air, a sky blackened as though mourning the souls he had failed to save. Thunder rumbled distantly in the memory, and he remembered the sky opening, rain falling in torrents as if in pity, or perhaps disgust, for Rok Soo, who had watched helplessly as his cherished friends fell around him, one by one.

'If only I'd been stronger,' he thought, the bitter guilt rising up like bile in his throat. 'They wouldn't have...'

But then, like a whisper, he remembered those words. "Rok Soo, it wasn't your fault. Jung Soo and I died because we chose to fight, because we ran wild." The voice was warm, filled with both affection and finality. And though it pierced his heart with grief, it offered a strange comfort, a gentleness he could scarcely bear. [A/N: Words might be different from novel]

He felt the memories wash over him in a wave, bringing an ache to his chest, his breaths coming in shallow gasps. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he struggled to push back the flood of emotions. He forced himself to glance around, grounding himself in the empty room. No one was here. Just him.

Just Cale.

He closed his eyes, his hands trembling slightly as he gripped the edge of the table. For a moment, he felt as if he might break, as if the weight of both his past and his fears for the future would finally consume him. Yet here he was, alone, in the quiet waiting room, with a Pocky stick melting between his fingers and a heart that somehow refused to give up.

After a long, shuddering breath, he steadied himself. His hand reached, almost instinctively, for the Pocky, his grip tightening as he bit into it. The chocolate taste lingered, sweet and grounding. Somehow, just that simple, absurd action helped him return to the present.

'One step at a time,' he reminded himself, even if each step seemed to echo with the memories of those he had lost.

Cale shifted restlessly in his seat, tugging at his collar as the heat weighed on him. He could feel sweat gathering on his forehead, a faint flush tinging his cheeks. Despite the discomfort, he resisted the urge to unbutton his shirt-not because he cared what anyone thought, but because he dreaded the barrage of questions that might follow. The last thing he wanted was anyone fussing over him.

As he huffed, swiping a hand over his forehead, he nearly jumped at the sound of the door opening. Aiden stepped inside, glancing around before his eyes fell on Cale, taking in his disheveled state. The butler's brows knit with immediate concern as he approached. "Master, are you alright? You look unwell."

Cale waved him off, grumbling, "It's nothing. Just a little warm."

But Aiden's frown deepened. Without hesitation, he reached out to check Cale's temperature, his hand brushing lightly over Cale's forehead. Cale flinched, startled by the sudden touch, and Aiden quickly withdrew, realizing he may have overstepped. "Ah-my apologies, Master," he murmured, voice laced with both professionalism and a trace of guilt.