"Don't."
The single word cut through him like a blade. It was spoken softly, but there was no mistaking the quiet fury coiled inside it.
Before Elliott could react, Aiden surged forward from where he was kneeling, hands braced on either side of him, caging him in against the bed. Elliott froze, breath catching sharply. A shiver ran down his spine—not fear, but something else.
Aiden leaned in, so close their noses nearly touched, and his voice trembled with sheer force of the emotions clawing their way out of him.
"Do not," he snarled, low and ragged, "ever say anything like that to me again."
Elliott could only stare. He was startled into silence by the sudden outburst, by the fury, by the... offense.
Aiden was offended.
"You can refuse me. Tell me to wait. Tell me you don't feel the same— hell, look at me with disgust or disdain. You can make it clear to me that nothing between us will ever happen. I can live with that. I will live with that, if that is what soothes your mind and heart."
He leaned in closer. Their noses were only a hair's breadth apart. Elliott could only listen, wide-eyed, frozen into place, his pulse beating fast in his throat.
"But. Do not— do not insult me by telling me I don't know my own heart. By calling my feelings nothing but hormones and confusion. No one, not even you, has the right to insult this. Us. Our bond, our connection. To dismiss it as something irrelevant and fading."
Aiden's words trembled with heat, but his grip on Elliott's hands never faltered. "You think your body, your mind, your heart— those are yours to insult. But they're not. Not in front of me. Do you know why? Because I value you more than anything in this world. I would die for you. I would kill for you. I would forsake this entire world if it meant you stayed safe." His voice shook, but his eyes burned with steady conviction. "I have no faith in the gods people worship— because all my faith, all my devotion, all my reverence— I've already given them all to you. Do not devalue yourself to the point where you deem the greatest devotion of my life a waste."
Elliott couldn't speak. The words hit him too hard, unraveling every carefully prepared reason in his mind. Suddenly, they all sounded like what they truly were: excuses. Thin excuses he had been hiding behind.
But Aiden wasn't done.
"You think this is just a phase? Some sudden realization? No. I've always known. Ever since I was old enough to even understand what love was—I've always known. For me, love has always been you. You think I can just love someone else? Just because of your twisted standards of who is 'appropriate' for me?"
A harsh, disbelieving laugh slipped from his throat.
Elliott finally forced sound past his lips. "Aiden—" he tried weakly. Even he wasn't sure what he was trying to say. "You— I— it's not—"
Aiden didn't let him finish. "It's not what, Elliott? Not love? Is that what you're trying to say?" His voice sharpened, demanding. His fingers dug into the sheets beside Elliott, knuckles turning bone-white with the effort of holding back everything inside. "Why can't you just understand? For me, there has never been confusion. Never doubt. There has only ever been you. And this is the one thing I'm damn sure of in my entire life. So push me away all you want, but don't you dare say I'm mistaken about loving you."
The silence that followed was absolute. Elliott could only stare back at him, breath trembling, as the truth finally lay bare between them. Bare in a way he could no longer deny, no longer twist vague words into excuses his mind could use to pacify his heart.
—
Aiden moved to stand. Elliott hadn't answered. Of course he hadn't. This was how it always went, wasn't it? They danced carefully around the truth, circled it, and when it got too honest— retreated. Back into duty. Back into denial.
Maybe they were going to ignore this too, just like that day. Tomorrow, Elliott would go back to being the perfect Emperor, and Aiden the perfect adopted heir. That neat little script of a play they played so well.
But God, Aiden would be lying if he said it didn't feel like tearing his own skin open. Every time they did this, it flayed him raw. And it never, never, got easier.
"I should go," he said finally. His voice was flat, drained of all the fire from before. Resigned. He turned towards the door, each movement heavy, not with physical exhaustion but with the weight of giving up again.
"Wait," Elliott called.
The word was soft— barely a whisper— but it made Aiden stop dead in his tracks. He hadn't expected it. He didn't turn around yet.
"Don't... leave. Please." Elliott's voice cracked faintly, thin and shaky, but the plea in it was undeniable. It wasn't an order. It wasn't a command. It was simply... a plea.
Aiden's shoulders tensed. Slowly, reluctantly, he turned back. His face was carefully blank, masking the ache twisting inside him.
"Stay," Elliott whispered. His eyes were wet, unguarded. "Please. I... don't want you to leave."
Normally—by now—Aiden would have already crossed the room, already taken his place at Elliott's side without hesitation. Normally he would stay, no matter what.
But tonight... tonight the distance between them felt like a chasm. And for the first time, he found it hard to move.
"...This is not fair to me, you know," Aiden spoke, voice low and rough. He let out a bitter chuckle, one that sounded more like a broken exhale than amusement. "You want me close. You want my protection, my devotion, me... my everything. But you won't even give me a definite answer."
He ran a weary hand through his hair, dragging his fingers through already disheveled curls and messing them further. "How am I supposed to expect an answer, when you're not even acknowledging the question as valid?"
He took a step closer. Then another. Soon, he stood right above Elliott, looming over him. The space between them was charged, buzzing with all the things left unsaid, all the feelings neither had dared to acknowledge.
"The only thing I ask of you... is an answer. A definite one." Aiden's eyes were glassy, though his expression stayed carefully neutral, his face a practiced mask of control. "It doesn't have to be a yes. But please— just give me an answer. Don't leave me hanging in this 'what if.' Because I don't know how much longer I can hold on."
He lowered himself, gently gripping Elliott's chin, nudging his face up. His other hand braced against the bed beside the blonde, his presence closing in, surrounding him. Their noses were almost touching now, breaths mingling in the sliver of space that remained.
"If you truly don't feel it— if you can't return my feelings because you don't feel the same way... then look me in the eyes and say it. If your heart isn't racing right now— because I know mine is— say it. Say you feel nothing for me. Say you want me to find someone else."
His voice dropped into something near a whisper, rough and unwavering. "Look me in the eyes and say it with your heart."
But Elliott couldn't.
He tried— God, he tried— to form the words that would free them both from this torturous limbo. Just two words: I don't. It should have been so simple. And yet... nothing came. His throat closed up. His gaze faltered. His chest tightened until it hurt.
Tears blurred his vision, shimmering along his lashes. He tried to look away, to find an escape, but Aiden's hand on his chin kept him still. Not forceful, not cruel— just firm, tender, refusing to let him run from this.
Aiden saw the struggle. Of course he did. A man who felt nothing wouldn't be breaking down like this. Wouldn't be trembling, eyes wet, trying desperately to hold himself together. Elliott might not have denied it, but he wasn't accepting it either.
And this time, Aiden wasn't going to settle for silence.
His grip on Elliott's chin tightened. He leaned in further, until he could see every fleck of blue in Elliott's irises, until every breath Elliott exhaled ghosted against his lips.
"One word," Aiden breathed, voice low and husky with restrained fire. "One word, and I'll stop. If you're even slightly unwilling— if this feels even a little wrong— say it. Stop me. Push me away. Slap me. Do anything. If you truly feel nothing while I do this..." his gaze locked with Elliott's, unwavering, "...then stop me."
He gave Elliott every chance. For a moment, time hung still, suspended on the edge of something irreversible. Aiden's heartbeat thundered so violently he thought it might break free from his ribs. His throat was dry, his palms clammy, but his eyes never wavered.
Elliott said nothing.
His lips parted, trembling. His frail frame shook under the weight of it all, and finally— finally— the tears fell. Silent, shattering tears that slid down his cheeks and caught the moonlight, leaving wet trails across his flushed skin. His breath came shallow, quivering, caught between fear and longing.
That was all the permission Aiden needed.
He closed the distance.
Their lips met.
The kiss wasn't rough, wasn't devouring— though desperation coiled just beneath the surface, threatening to break through. Instead, it was achingly tender, soft, hesitant, like an unspoken vow pressed against lips. It wasn't a conquest. It was a plea. A prayer. A desperate confession in a language more honest than words.
Elliott froze at first, a small, broken sound escaping against Aiden's mouth. But then— God, then— he melted. His body sagged, trembling, lips quivering as they moved under Aiden's with a hesitant, tearful surrender. His shoulders shook, sobs caught between them, but he didn't pull away.
And Aiden kissed him like he was the only thing keeping him alive. Like his whole existence had led to this moment. His hand slid into Elliott's hair, holding him as though he might vanish if he let go, while the other stayed cradling his face, thumb brushing at the wetness of tears even as he kissed him harder, deeper, more certain.
Elliott's tears stained both their cheeks. But neither of them cared.
The kiss lingered, long enough for Aiden to pour every unsaid word into it, long enough for Elliott to give in, trembling but unable to resist.
Finally— reluctantly— Aiden pulled back, just a fraction, their foreheads pressed together, breaths uneven and ragged. Elliott's eyes were squeezed shut, tears still escaping, soft sobs trembling through his lips. Aiden's thumb brushed beneath his eye, his touch reverent even now.
The answer had been given. Not in words, but in a kiss that had been years in the making. A kiss that stripped them bare. A kiss that neither of them could retreat from, no matter how much they tried.
Definitive.
Irrevocable.
It was the truth, carved into them both, sealed in the silent language of lips and tears.