Hyun-Ji's fingers twitched against Akhlys' collar, his grip unsteady.
He wanted to push him away.
He should push him away.
But for some reason, his body wouldn't move.
Akhlys' crimson eyes held him in place, unwavering—filled with something Hyun-Jin didn't want to name. Something too raw, too deep.
A thousand years.
That wasn't something a person could lie about with a straight face.
Hyun-Jin clenched his jaw. "So what? You expect me to feel sorry for you?"
Akhlys didn't blink. "No."
"Then what do you want from me?"
Akhlys tilted his head slightly, his long purple hair cascading over his shoulder. "You already know the answer to that, my beloved."
Hyun-Jin's heart gave an uneasy thud. He forced himself to let go of Akhlys' collar, stepping back.
"Stop calling me that."
Akhlys smiled faintly. "I won't."
"Tch." Hyun-Jin ran a hand down his face, inhaling deeply before exhaling. "Listen, I don't care how long you've been waiting. I don't care what kind of god you are. I have my own life, my own rules, and you don't get to just waltz in and—"
"You think I chose this?" Akhlys interrupted softly.
Hyun-Jin frowned, caught off guard by the shift in his tone.
Akhlys' smile was gone.
He took a slow step forward, his presence suddenly heavier, suffocating. The air itself seemed to tighten around them.
"Do you think I wanted to spend a thousand years untouched? To watch everything wither in my grasp? To stand in a world where everything I touch dies?" His voice was quiet, but there was an edge to it—sharp, unyielding.
Hyun-Jin stiffened.
Akhlys' pale fingers curled at his sides.
"Do you know what it's like to exist in a world where no one can hold you? Where every breath you take is a reminder that you are alone?"
Something about those words made Hyun-Jin's chest tighten.
He knew what it was like to be feared.
He knew what it was like to be untouchable.
And yet…
Akhlys took another step, closing the space between them. His voice was softer now, almost pleading.
"But then I found you."
Hyun-Jin swallowed.
"You were born into this world—a man who can stand before me, touch me, hold me… without fear."
Akhlys raised his hand again, slowly, hesitantly—like he expected Hyun-Jin to slap it away.
But Hyun-Jin didn't move.
Akhlys' fingers brushed against his jaw.
Warm.
Not cold. Not lifeless.
Warm.
The sensation sent a shock through Hyun-Jin's spine.
His body tensed, but he didn't pull away.
He should.
He needed to.
But the way Akhlys looked at him—like he was something precious, something sacred—it was almost too much.
Almost unbearable.
"I don't need you to believe in fate," Akhlys murmured. "But I need you to understand this—"you are the only one I have."
Hyun-Jin's breath caught.
Because, for the first time—
Akhlys didn't sound like a god.
He sounded like a man who had been alone for far too long.
And for some reason—
That realization unsettled him more than anything else.