"¿Sabías que los dioses también tienen permitido amar...?" Enamorarse de su tío casado fue un error de infancia... Pero al parecer los dioses o el destino concedió a Horus una oportunidad de ser correspondido. 🌟🌟🌟 * Serie de relatos (muy) cortos que siguen una cronología sobre la pareja del manhwa Ennead, Horus x Seth. * Lo escrito aquí no tiene nada de seguimiento de la historia original, es solo parte de mi imaginación. * Algunos tratarán de ser cómicos, otros no tanto. * No hay un tiempo fijo para las publicaciones. ⚠️Los personajes no me pertenecen, sino a Mojito, creadora de Ennead⚠️

BOOK ONE Coming out was supposed to set Julian free. Instead, it left him with a broken arm, a mother who won't stop preaching, and a silence that grows heavier every day. High school feels like a cage, and Julian is certain he doesn't belong anywhere-until Paul crashes into his world. With his inked skin, effortless charm, and a following that makes him untouchable, Paul should be the last person Julian lets close. But in Paul's arms, Julian feels something he's never known before: safe. As their connection deepens, so does the danger. Loving Paul means risking exposure, rejection, and heartbreak all over again. Worse, it means facing the cruelest voice of all-the one inside Julian's own head. Tender, raw, and unflinching, Open is a story about first love, first heartbreak, and finding the courage to believe you're worthy of both. ::: I could feel it when his body finally went slack, when he'd fallen asleep and soft snores emitted. And I thought I was getting better at this breaking down thing... I honestly did but when I was alone, I seemed to fall apart. Endless serenades of how worthless I'd been and how destructive I was; I was a disappointment to literally everyone and I hated it. My breathing became shallow as I cried for the second time that day, finally feeling content being immersed in guilt. A shudder wracked through my body, tears escaping and Paul pulled me closer as he woke silently. Mumbling soft nothings against my skin and kissing it to slow my breathing, he tried to lull me to sleep, "It's okay, you're okay." Refusing to speak -my voice failing me- his arm came up to wrap around my shoulder and I held him there, placing a small kiss to his tattooed skin in a broken sign of gratitude, I must've run out of tears. And I felt at ease.