Royalty| Hyunlix| Minsung

Pain itself

Han awoke to the warm comfort of Felix's embrace, his eyes slowly adjusting to the soft, silvery light filtering through the dim room. He blinked, taking in the gentle smile that Felix offered him, a reassuring calm that seemed to wrap around him just as much as the angel's arms did. Without a word, Han's arms slid up, returning the hug, finding comfort in the steady heartbeat that seemed to whisper that he was safe, that he was not alone.

"Thank you," Han murmured, his voice barely audible, but Felix's smile widened, understanding the weight behind those simple words. Han sighed, gathering his thoughts, and asked, "Do you... think I should speak to her? My mother?"

Felix's eyes softened as he placed a hand on Han's shoulder. "I do. Give her a chance, Han. Hear her story, and let her hear yours. Sometimes, those connections can change everything."

Taking Felix's advice to heart, Han slipped out of the room and made his way toward the main hall. As he rounded a corner, the unmistakable sound of raised voices reached him. Hyunjin and Chan were locked in a heated argument, their words echoing off the castle walls.

Hyunjin's tone was sharp as he snarled, "Han's still behaving like a reckless fool—"

"Mind your language," Han interrupted, his voice firm but composed. "I am not the simple demon you knew before. I am a pure-blooded prince, and I won't tolerate disrespect. Not here, and not about my family."

Chan's grip on Hyunjin tightened, holding him back, but Han barely waited for a response before turning and disappearing down the hallway. He navigated the winding corridors, his steps purposeful, until he reached the grand hall. There, in the cavernous, shadow-filled space, he saw her: his mother. She stood among swirling dark souls, her presence both commanding and gentle, a stark beauty shrouded in the bittersweet air of lost time.

Han took a breath, steadying himself before he stepped forward, his eyes meeting hers as she turned. A look of surprise softened into something deeply maternal, and he could see the longing she had kept hidden for so long flicker in her gaze.

"Tell me the story," Han said softly. "I need to know why... why we were separated. Why you couldn't come back for me."

His mother's expression turned mournful, and she stepped closer. "In our world, my love for your father was forbidden. The courts of both realms—the Heavens and the Abyss—had too much power and control, and such a union between an angel and a demon was a risk they would not accept."

Han listened intently as she continued, her voice a mix of sadness and reverence. "Your father, the King of Prosperity, was the brother of Felix's father. He was rebellious, spirited... we shared a defiance against the rules that bound us. But that defiance came with consequences. When they discovered our love, they sent judges, demons in league with angels who would ensure no 'crime' of the heart went unpunished. They dragged him away and tore him apart before my eyes, their judgment swift and merciless."

She swallowed hard, a shadow crossing her face as she looked away for a moment, her voice barely holding steady. "I went into hiding after that, my world shattered. I tried to protect you by hiding you away, but as time passed, I lost track of you. I searched, but the years became heavy, and my hope was... dimming." Her voice softened, breaking slightly. "Until now."

Han's chest tightened, the weight of her words settling deep within him. A warmth bloomed in his heart, mingling with sorrow for all they'd lost. His mouth curved into a small smile, a rebellious glint in his eye. "Well, if my father was a rebellious spirit, I suppose I inherited that. Guess I'll take after him."

A look of surprise softened into a bittersweet smile on his mother's face, and they shared a quiet understanding, a small but powerful bond that had been lost to them for so long.

Han placed his hand gently over hers. "Let's start again."

The evening had settled thick and quiet over the palace, a rare lull in the endless upheaval. Chan and Changbin sat slumped in the grand but dimly lit living room, an open bottle of dark whiskey between them. The empty glasses spoke of hours of venting, Chan growing more unguarded with each pour. Changbin watched as the older man grew softer, his usual guarded demeanor slipping away as he poured out his frustrations.

"I'm tired of this," Chan slurred, his fingers tapping restlessly against the glass. "All this infighting, everyone clinging to secrets. I don't even know who's against who anymore." His words were heavy, his eyes glazed yet carrying a storm within them.

Changbin nodded, his hand resting on Chan's shoulder as a silent gesture of comfort, but his own heart thudded painfully in his chest. The warmth of Chan's presence next to him was a constant ache, a reminder of the love he harbored yet never dared confess.

Chan leaned further into him, and suddenly his head fell onto Changbin's shoulder. Changbin's heart raced as he felt the soft weight of Chan's form pressed against him, his gaze lingering on the older man's face. In that moment, the vulnerability in Chan's expression was almost unbearable. Changbin loved him deeply and knew it was hopeless; he was, after all, just a demon, loyal yet bound to never expect a miracle.

"Changbin..." Chan's voice was barely a whisper, his breath warm as it ghosted over Changbin's neck. "You know, if it weren't for you... I think I might have lost myself by now. Sometimes... sometimes, I feel like I'd just give up if I didn't have you here."

Changbin's chest ached, torn between the hope those words inspired and the painful understanding that they likely meant nothing. He opened his mouth to reply, but Chan's gaze drifted up to meet his, a fleeting look of desperation and longing in his dark, tired eyes. And in a surge of unexpected courage or drunken impulse, Chan's lips found Changbin's in a soft, aching kiss, a gesture that held too much pain and need.

Changbin's mind reeled, his own restraint shattered in that single touch. Their lips moved together, desperate and filled with everything unsaid, a yearning that bordered on agony. Each kiss was like a confession, heavy with the things they'd never spoken of, the feelings that both of them had hidden in the cracks of their hearts.

Chan's breath hitched as he pulled back slightly, his gaze a mixture of gratitude and vulnerability that left Changbin's chest raw. There was a sadness there, an understanding that even in this moment of release, reality would still hover at the edge of it all.

But for now, in the stolen embrace, both of them were held within a fragile moment that was as beautiful as it was painful.

P.S. How do we like Chan and Changbin? It's new couple for me here.....