Moulin didn't dare breathe of the stupid reason that everything might dissipate before his eyes.
He sees the two men. Both grown to be the fine man they are now. Gone was the youthfulness and the plump energy in their features. Like him, they stood unmoving. Staring at him with equal intensity. Emotions went chaotic, and their heart drumming loudly as though they would burst out of their chest.
From the hair and eyes alone, Moulin knew who they were. Those cold steel gray, sharp like a dagger's edge.
"Brothers..." A whisper finally escaped his mouth. It was too soft to be heard.
Maxille finally exhales. Although, he didn't hear it. He knew what Moulin was saying. And before he realized it, he and Emlen were running. Maxille's chest rises and lowers rapidly. The long silver cape that draped behind his back fluttered. And the golden chains on his chest twinkled.
Watching his brothers approaching him hastily. Moulin's eyes watered. An ache pierced his heart as he too ran towards them—his heartbeat quicken in every passing second.
The distance between them decreased significantly. And in the next second, Moulin felt warmth reach for his arms. He was then enveloped gently by the two people.
Maxille and Emlen held him together. Their knees fell to the floor, and they embraced together tightly. Surrounded by their warmth, Moulin held back a sob and pressed his face in Maxille's chest. His tears dampened the man's clothes, but he didn't stop. His fingers clenched on Emlen's arm tightly as his shoulders trembled.
He's alive... he's really alive...
Emlen's breath stuttered as he exhaled. It's a miracle. His brother had come back. Moulin returned to them.
With a faint shake of his head, Emlen buried his head on Moulin's shoulder. Turbulent emotions swirled inside his heart. There was happiness. Pure burning happiness. A cold relief seeped into his soul, and his eyes moistened. Throat constricted. He couldn't believe it. Their little brother is here in their arms, breathing—heart beating. The faint tremble of his shoulders vibrated to their arms. The feeling overwhelmed them with his presence.
"Moulin..." Maxille hoarsely whispered. He exhaled and slowly pulled away. Emlen did the same and stared at his little brother with deep emotional eyes.
When a tear streamed down the youth's pale cheek, Maxille wiped them away with his thumb. Both brothers took in the changes on Moulin's face. The brightness of his silver eyes, the handsome sharpness of his features. A fine nose and his round lotus eyes seemed to glisten in addition to the sweet layer of moisture. Some of the youthfulness had melted away, and a rich pleasant maturity enveloped his whole being. He had grown taller. His hair had grown too long that the braid coiled around him. His skin was a bit pale. However, there was a healthy rosiness on his fingertips and his ears.
"I'm back..." Moulin whispered as he sighs while shedding tears.
Emlen brought him into his embrace and hugged him tightly. "You're home..."
.............................
Within his room, Moulin nervously held the glass of water in his hand. He was seated on the couch with Emlen by his side and Maxille sitting on the opposite couch.
"Are you alright?" Emlen asked beside him.
"Mn..."
Emlen smiled. "Father will become worried if you act like this in front of him."
Silver eyes instantly widened. Moulin's heart thundered at the mention of his father. "Father? H-How is he?"
Emlen chuckled and patted Moulin's head dotingly. Oh, how he missed the feel of his little brother's soft hair. "He's alright... He'll be fine once he meets you..."
Moulin blinked and returned his attention to the glass in his hand. He was going to meet his father soon. The thought of it brought tenderness to his heart. He couldn't wait to meet him.
...
"Moulin... What happened to you?"
Maxille was the first to break the silence. His voice was gentle, and his lenient eyes watched his little brother, who sighed deeply. Emlen glanced at Moulin, equally eager to hear Moulin's response.
"They told us you were dead. For eight years, we thought you died. And that even if you were alive... you wouldn't survive the world outside the city." Emlen covered his eyes with his hand as he leaned back.
Moulin stared at his faint reflection on the water. "They weren't wrong..."
"What?"
Maxille stared at him questionably. He thoroughly sifted his brother's words in his mind. At last, he gave a look of disbelief. "You... You're saying it's true?... your death?"
Slowly, Moulin raised his eyes and nodded.
Emlen shook his head. Leaning forward, he ran his hand through his dark brown hair, destroying his neat look. Incredulity filled his eyes. What was he talking about? How is he dead when he's clearly sitting beside him right now? Alive. Breathing. How was it the truth?
Seeing his brother's confused looks, Moulin could only continue to explain. He lowered his head while gripping the glass. "I fell into a rift at the day of our estate's invasion. It was..." Moulin's eyes deepened. "... It was an accide-."
"You were killed."
Maxille interrupted with cold eyes.
Surprised, Moulin fell silent.
"You don't have to make up excuses. We already know." Emlen spoke, but his hands concealed his expression.
Taking a deep breath, Maxille raised his gaze and met Moulin's eyes. "It was Alsander Vernallia, wasn't it? He's the one that led you to your death..."
Moulin furrowed his brows. "What... How do you..."
"It was Lord Hercullio who dragged him to us. The culprit already confessed. The son of the Vernallia family colluded with the malefic to invade our home, kill our people, and destroy us." Maxille narrowed his eyes. "He confessed that he pushed you down the rift... He killed you."
Moulin was shocked. Alsander confessed? But... That wasn't right. 'I was the one who let go...'
When he fell into the abyss, Moulin thought Alsander had escaped. He didn't expect him to be easily caught by Hadrian and even confessed his murder to them. Why would he do that?
Was it just his guilt? Or was he trying to sow more discord?
Moulin stopped. When he fell, he faintly recalled Alsander's bloodshot eyes. He shouted Moulin's name as the youth fell into the terrible darkness. Moulin didn't forget it. The act felt as though Alsander was... regretting? Or did he just want to take him alive?
Exhaling, the youth was confused.
"Where... Where is he?..." Moulin slowly lifted his head. The grip around the glass he was holding tightened as he awaited the answer.
Emlen scoffed. The man stood up and smiled as if he had heard something hilarious. In truth, he found Moulin's question absurd. He knew that face. The face Moulin was making. As much as he missed Moulin's expressions, he couldn't believe Moulin was concerned about his murderer. With disbelieving eyes, he looked down at his little brother.
"Why do you ask?"
Moulin pressed his lips together. "Did... Did you kill him?"
...
Both brothers only stared at Moulin expressionlessly. They were looking at him as though they were uncertain of why he was spouting questions. He should be angry. Enraged. He should want to avenge his death and hunt down his killer as Maxille and Emlen did for him. But what's this? Instead, he wore a worried expression. His eyes are searching for answers. He was clearly nervous as he anticipated their replies.
Suddenly, the sound of footsteps intruded into the room.
The three shifted their attention and saw a tall man bearing golden eyes and a prominent air. The Lord walked unhurriedly as his eyes assessed the guests within the room.
Moulin's eyes softened. "Hadrian..."
"My Lord..." Both Emlen and Maxille bent their heads respectfully.
Moulin widened his eyes. The actions of his brothers shocked him. Just... what happened when he was gone? He had undoubtedly missed a lot of significant events.
"Moulin..." Hadrian spoke. Unclasping his cape, he laid them over the arm of the couch. He carefully took the empty glass from his hand and began to pour him another drink, stirring it with a spoon of honey.
"Thank you..." Moulin smiled faintly as he inhaled the sweet scent from the glass. He tipped the edge to his mouth and took a small sip.
With a sigh, Moulin smiled. "It's sweet..."
Hadrian furrowed his brows. "Do you not like it?"
"No, it's just right..." Moulin smiled at him. His eyes were warm as he drank once again.
Not long after, Moulin stopped. He felt eyes intensely staring at him. He hesitantly lifted his gaze and almost choked when he forgot Emlen and Maxille were here and an audience to his and Hadrian's interaction.
Maxille's face remained expressionless. However, it was apparent on Emlen's face that he was restraining to scrunch up his face in disapproval. Emlen's eye twitched and be suppressed the urge to roar. Maxille, even if his face was inexpressive, there was disdain in his eyes. However, it wasn't as intense as Emlen's. When he looked at his little brother, he felt at ease with his pleased expression.
Moulin was happy when he's with the lord. Maxille didn't feel like he should destroy his little brother's pleasant mood.
Before Moulin could enjoy his sweet water, Hadrian dismissed Maxille and Emlen.
"But-"
"Moulin, you need to rest..." Maxille smiles as he stroked his little brother's head. His gray eyes warmed when Moulin lowered his head and conceded. His little brother was still obedient and good towards them.
"I'll come and visit..." Moulin muttered.
"Mn... And we'll find you."
Emlen embraced his little brother and pulled away reluctantly. He glanced at Hadrian, who nodded to him without a bit of hostility and wariness. Slightly narrowing his eyes, he and Maxille left the room, leaving Moulin and Hadrian by themselves.
.................
Moulin bathed, dressed, and ate. He felt extremely refreshed as he plopped on the bed. His silky hair spreads out, curling like silver roses. Moulin turns his head and stares at the window. The darkening sky welcomed his eyes. His lashes slightly lowered. A pleasant sigh escapes his mouth.
He's back...
Moulin closed his eyes. The darkness was so familiar to him. He was back... and his third death would be approaching. He realized that if he doesn't do anything, then his next death would probably occur unexpectedly. After his third death, what would happen? Will be even be revived again?
Perhaps not...
Moulin needed to stop it. This won't be his end. He will fight it and destroy his predicted fate. It will not happen to him...
He rose from the bed and looked around. Snow and Kier were probably in the other room right now. Hadrian didn't want them disturbing Moulin with their little game of chase.
"Hadrian?" Moulin called. He left the bed and walked across the rug. He turned to the balcony's open door and saw the man leaning on the stone banister.
Hadrian was wearing a loose white top. The thick column of his neck and his muscular chest was exposed to the cold air. A half-empty glass of wine sits beside his hand on the banister. He looked solemn and cold as he stood. Deep golden eyes slowly turned to Moulin's direction.
"You're drinking..." Moulin muttered as he hugged his arms.
Hadrian glanced at the wine beside him. A frown briefly etched his face, and he revealed a soft look in his eyes. "A habit..."
"..." Moulin furrowed his brows.
The vast scenery of Helios city looked beautiful under the starless skies. Moulin stepped forward and took the glass of wine before Hadrian could stop him. Silver eyes lowered at the strong scent of the wine. "Since when do you drink?"
Hadrian slightly tilted his head, and he gazed at the dark skies. "Since you were killed..."
Moulin paused. His hands gripped the slim neck of the wine glass. He tugged one corner of his lips and drew his brows together. "Tell me you didn't do anything foolish while I was gone..."
"By foolish? What are you implying?" Hadrian gaze at him intently.
"Hadrian..." Moulin narrowed his eyes.
The man chuckled and his fingers reached out for the wine. Moulin frowned and raised the glass away from his reach.
Hadrian raised a brow. His eyes deepened even more. "You cannot drink."
"Watch me." Moulin challenged. And before Hadrian could stop him, he downed the rest of the liquor in the glass. His little adam's apple bobbed hypnotizingly as he swallowed. With a sigh, Moulin wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he lowered the glass. His eyes were slightly glassy, and a red shade spreads out from his cheeks.
"It's stronger than I-"
Suddenly, an arm tugged him hard. A gasp left Moulin's lips as he crashed against a hard chest. A hot breath caressed his lips. Moulin breathes out when he realized Hadrian had closed the distance between them intimately. Their lips only a few centimeters apart. They could feel each other's warm breaths.
Moulin waited, thinking Hadrian would lean in and take him without hesitation. However, he was wrong. Hadrian made no move.
"Why do you hesitate?" Moulin whispered as he brushed his lips against Hadrian's. His chin is tilting upwards as he exhales. "Why do you restrain yourself?"
Hadrian's eyes flashed. "You know very well why... One thing will lead to another. As much as I want to tear off your garments, I'm afraid you are not ready for it..."
Moulin paused. "You're afraid I'll conceive?"
"Do you think you're not too young to conceive children?"
Moulin didn't know why it was 'children' and not 'child.' He shrugged the thought away. "I believe it isn't the right time. Do you not have contraceptives in this world?"
Hadrian glanced at the wine glass between Moulin's fingers. "You just drank it..."
"..."
Moulin blinked as he glanced at the empty glass in his hand. His eyes squinted as he placed it on the banister. "You mixed it with the wine? How long were you so prepared?"
"Long enough." Hadrian declared. "And I am done waiting."
Without warning, he pulled Moulin into a deep lustful kiss. Feeling the restraining hold keeping him in place, Moulin parted his lips and let Hadrian ravage him. A raw, animalistic urge seemed to be at the brink of exploding. And Moulin wanted nothing more than for it to happen.
"I cannot wait..." Hadrian whispered against their kiss.
Moulin alluringly licked the man's lower lip. His eyes
Glazed with want. "Then don't..."