The Velvet Moon Pavilion was a place where beauty and desire danced in the moonlight, but behind the charm lay darker truths. Elian was oblivious to them, and for now, that ignorance was a kind of bliss. He glided down the marbled corridors, his thoughts consumed not by the world around him, but by the one man who had managed to break through the layers of his carefully curated mask - Izan.
The scent of jasmine drifted through the air, mingling with the underlying tension that permeated the Pavilion. Every step Elian took was followed by whispers, some soft and indistinguishable, others sharp enough to pierce through his thoughts if he only paid attention. But he didn't. His heart was far from the Pavilion's petty squabbles and intrigue, entirely wrapped up in the memory of Izan.
