The rooftop was quiet.
Not silent. nothing in the Lust Ring was ever silent. but quiet enough for Verosika to finally breathe.
She kicked off her heels, let them clatter near the vent pipes, and sat on the ledge with her hair still damp from sweating under stage lights.
Another show done crowd fed.
Another night of playing the rising star.
But her mind wasn't on the music.
It was on him.
Again.
She hated that.
She hated how he'd slipped into her thoughts the way a melody slips into a chorus effortlessly, unintentionally, annoyingly natural.
She pulled her knees up and wrapped her arms around them, letting the neon wind brush against her skin.
"Get a grip, V," she muttered to herself.
"You've survived worse than confusing men."
But she couldn't shake the feeling.
The way he spoke.
Looked at her without flinching.
The way he told her quietly, almost reluctantly. that he had been protecting her career in the shadows.
No bragging flirting angle.
Just truth.
Calm and terrifyingly sincere truth.
And now, alone on the rooftop, she realized the thing that bothered her most:
She couldn't read him.
Not then now even a little.
She'd built half her life on reading people like open books.
But Malerion wasn't a book.
He was a locked safe.
And she hated locked safes.
She sighed and leaned her head back.
"That idiot. Coming out of nowhere, talking like he's older than Lucifer, dropping truth bombs like he's my therapist…"
"You know I can hear you from the stairs, right?"
Her heart jumped.
She spun around
Malerion stood there.
Just… stood there.
No dramatic entrance shadow games
announcement.
He looked different.
Sharpened.
Changed.
Like the air around him had thickened since the last time she saw him.
Her instincts prickled.
Something happened to him.
Something big.
He stepped closer, hands in his pockets, posture relaxed but his eyes, those dark, focused eyes, tracked every breath she took.
"…You look like shit," she said automatically.
You look tired too, he replied.
It wasn't flirtation.
wasn't banter.
Honesty meeting
She turned back toward the skyline, masking her pulse.
"So," she said slowly, "did you come to critique my vocals or just stalk me from rooftops now?"
Neither, he said.
I wanted to talk.
Verosika raised an eyebrow.
"You? Wanting to talk? That's new."
He ignored the jab and walked to the ledge beside her, leaving enough space to be respectful but still close enough that she could feel the faint hum of… something.
Power?
Emotion?
Resonance?
She didn't know.
It annoyed her more.
"What happened to you?" she asked bluntly.
"You feel… different."
He looked out at the neon horizon.
I made a decision, he said quietly.
And decisions shape power. Sometimes more than effort.
She frowned.
"That sounds like some old monk shit."
It is, he admitted.
But it's true.
"What decision?"
He inhaled, long and steady.
That I'm done being afraid of changing things.
Her stomach dropped.
"You mean… the political stuff?"
He shook his head.
No. Bigger.
Verosika leaned in unconsciously.
"What are you afraid of changing?"
He didn't answer immediately.
When he did, his voice was softer.
Heavier.
…Stories.
She blinked.
"What?"
Malerion finally turned his head toward her.
His eyes held something she couldn't identify resolve… and grief… and clarity.
There are things coming in this world, he said, things tied to people like you… like goetia… like others. And for too long, I stayed away from all of it. Trying not to cause ripples.
Her heart hammered.
"And now?"
He exhaled.
Now I choose to ripple.
A shiver traveled down her spine.
Not fear.
Something worse.
Recognition.
He wasn't lying performing exaggerating.
He was changing.
And Hell itself responded to that change.
The rooftop lights flickered.
Air vibrated.
Even her tail curled involuntarily.
…What are you? she whispered before she could stop herself.
He didn't blink.
Someone who's finally done running from himself.
The wind pulled her hair across her face.
For a long moment, neither spoke.
Then she asked the one question she regretted immediately:
…Does this have anything to do with me?
Malerion didn't flinch.
Didn't look away.
Yes.
Her breath caught.
Why?
He looked back at the skyline.
Because meeting you reminded me that stories aren't fixed. They only stay the same if people never question them.
Verosika swallowed.
"And what story are you planning to change?"
He didn't answer.
Not directly.
Instead he said:
…You deserved help long before I ever gave it.
Something in her chest tightened painfully.
She hated vulnerability.
But gods, he made it too easy to slip into.
She loked away before she said something stupid.
Behind them, the door to the rooftop are open she heard Minca calling her name.
Malerion stepped back.
I should go.
She turned sharply toward him.
"Wait"
He paused.
Verosika's throat tightened.
…Will you come again?
He held her gaze for three long seconds.
Yes, he said simply.
Then he vanished .
No magic show.
Just gone.
Leaving Verosika Mayday barefoot on a rooftop, heart unsteady, soul rattled. And absolutely furious at herself for wanting him to stay longer.