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That night, the apartment was quiet. Not the awkward kind of silence—just heavy with the weight of memories Hyme hadn't dared to touch in years.
He sat curled on the couch, wrapped in a blanket with his knees pulled to his chest. San sat beside him, close but not crowding, one hand loosely resting over Hyme's.
The words came slowly.
"My mother's name was Lira," Hyme began. "She was a nurse. Kind, loud, always smelled like cinnamon tea. She was assigned to the palace after one of the royal wives fell sick. That's how she met my father."
San said nothing, letting him speak.
"They said it was a scandal. That he tainted the bloodline. But my father... he never looked at anyone the way he looked at her. Not even Lys's mother."
Hyme's lips curled slightly, but the smile didn't reach his eyes.
"The council hated her. And me. I was locked away in a separate wing, raised by guards and strict etiquette teachers. I could see my mother only on weekends. Still, she called me her miracle. She told me being different wasn't a curse. It was freedom."
San exhaled slowly. "What happened to her?"
Hyme stared at the ceiling.
"She died when I was eleven. Poisoned. They called it an accident." He paused. "But I know it wasn't. I saw the way Lys smiled at the funeral. I saw him watching me."
A long silence settled between them.
"I tried to stay strong after that," Hyme whispered. "To prove I belonged. But it was like walking on knives. Every success was twisted into a threat. Every compliment turned into suspicion. The older I got, the worse it became. Until eventually…"
"You ran away," San finished.
Hyme nodded. "My father let me go. He said it was to protect me. But I knew. He was giving up—choosing the kingdom over me."
San tightened his grip on Hyme's hand.
"Then screw the kingdom," he said. "You have a life now. And you're not alone."
Hyme finally looked at him. Really looked. His golden eyes shimmered like molten honey.
"You always make it sound so easy," he whispered. "But San… loving me will come with consequences."
San leaned in until their foreheads touched.
"I'm not scared of consequences," he murmured. "I'm scared of losing you."
Hyme's breath hitched. His hands moved—tentative at first, then bolder—as he cupped San's face.
Their lips met slowly.
Warm. Gentle. Like melting snow after a long storm.
But it didn't stay innocent for long.
Hyme pushed himself into San's lap, straddling him with a soft purr that betrayed the heat under his skin. His fingers threaded into San's hair while San's hands moved to Hyme's waist—hesitant at first, then more certain.
Hyme leaned into his ear, voice low and needy.
"Just for tonight… I want to forget the rest of the world."
San kissed him again, deeper this time.
And he whispered back, "Then I'll make sure the world doesn't exist."
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