"Why didn't you want to see him?"
The fingers grasping the curtains flinched. With her hair down, Pola closed the curtains and slowly turned her head to face the man standing behind her. Jagra stood with an expressionless face as if he was no longer surprised of the woman's strangeness. Yes, they have been acquainted for so long that he knew her more than she knew herself.
"I cannot face him," Pola confessed as she pressed a hand to her heart. "I don't know what to say to him."
"He asked for you..." Jagra said, and as he expected, surprise and sorrow filled her face. "I told him you were still sleeping. You heard us by the door. I know it. Do you not believe the things he has experienced?"
"It's hard to believe..." Pola turned to the windows. Her hand was slightly opening the curtains. He wanted to see her master. Wanted to embrace him as his friends have, but she didn't have the courage. She thought she'd change, but it turns out nothing about her has.
Moulin's death stabbed her. And now, his sudden presence made her afraid. She was afraid...
"Tomorrow..." Jagra sighed as he lowered her head. "I will go to the Towers. Moulin is now together with the High Lord, Hadrian. The Lord is very protective of him."
"I'm not surprised," Pola muttered.
Ignoring her words, Jagra continued. "If you come with me, you will meet him. You are no longer a woman without status, Pola."
"Status does not define me. It is nothing against our enemies and the Kron."
"What I'm saying is you can go with me if you want to. You have time to prepare tonight. You can meet him again. This time look at him carefully, and you will know. Moulin... he is really alive." Jagra sighed and adjusted his glasses. "Tell me if you've decided." He turned and left through the hallway.
Left alone, Pola's fists clenched. He covered her eyes with a hand and sank down on the chair beside the windows. Silently, she remained in deep thought.
Meanwhile, a flash of light glowed within the emptiness of the training square. Ghana and Moulin chose separate. Moulin could find his way back.
"Moulin..." Ghana called before the youth could walk away. His silver gaze met her blue once calmly.
Ghana continued. Her eyes were gentle. "We don't hate you... He has never hated you. I don't know why you would ever think of that."
Moulin paused. Snow looked up to observe his master's expression. Finally, Moulin revealed a smile. His were warm and relieved. "I'm glad. Thank you..."
Ghana smiled with a sigh as she watched her friend walk away.
On one lamp of the pillars, a red crow perched silently. Its feathers as red like roses, and its eyes were eerily glowing. It restrained a crow and hurriedly flapped its wings.
When Moulin arrived before the doors of the room, his hands paused before the door handles. He didn't know why he stopped. He only sensed like there was someone inside.
'Hadrian...'
Moulin wasn't mistaken. He could feel his presence.
Glancing at Snow and Kier, Moulin told them to head to the other room after they entered. Unsure, the two little beasts only nodded obediently.
The door was opened, and he entered. Kier returned to his original form and bit Snow's scruff like a mother lion carrying her pulp. Snow, although reluctant, was helpless, and he could only concede. Being suspended in the air was somehow... interesting. Keir carried Snow away and left Moulin on his own.
Moulin brought himself before the doorway.
There he saw him. It wasn't dark yet. Yet the room appeared dim and spiritless. Sitting at the bed's edge was Hadrian, silently pouring himself a drink. The wine was as red as blood, almost thick and black. It looked rather distasteful in Moulin's eyes. But Hadrian seemed to not care if it was black or red or strong. It looked like he'd drink anything if it would intoxicate him.
"Hadrian..." Moulin walked over and hurriedly took the glass from the man's hand. "Why are you drinking?"
The man seemed to snap out of it. However, his expression remained cold and somewhat distant. "You're back?"
"..." Moulin furrowed his eyebrows. "Yes. Did I worry you? I'm sorry, I went to meet Ghana and Jagra today. How long have you been waiting?" He sounded like a husband trying to explain everything to his wife.
"Seven hours," Hadrian responded. And the stern look on his face suddenly vanished. Instead, it was replaced by a warm smile. "I finished early."
"You did?" Moulin raised his brows. "If I had known, I would not have kept you waiting."
"Don't worry." Hadrian stood from the bed and took the glass from Moulin's hand. He placed it on the table calmly. "I understand. You haven't seen your friends for a long time. How was your reunion?"
"It... went well." Moulin felt slightly uncertain about Hadrian's sudden change of mood. It was clear that he wasn't feeling happy at first. Is he trying to hide it?
"Are you hungry?" Hadrian reached out to caress Moulin's cheek. A relieved sigh escaped his lips.
Moulin nodded. He hadn't eaten lunch yet. And his stomach growled at the thought of food. Disdained, Moulin silently cursed his stomach for not choosing the appropriate time to talk!
Hadrian chuckled. He pressed a kiss on the youth's lips before withdrawing. "Come, let's fill this stomach of yours."
Before he could respond, Moulin was dragged away by the lord. Hadrian brought them to the next room to dine, where the meal was already set and hot. They finished their meal without silence. Hadrian was willingly indulging himself in Moulin's questions. Although the atmosphere was beyond satisfying, Moulin felt slightly uneasy.
After their meal, they read together in a small library. Moulin realized that all of the furniture, the tallest bookcase, and shelves, the smallest candlestick, were all something Hadrian collected on his own. The furs on the floor, the paintings on the wall, the glass... Everything. Moulin felt Hadrian's touch everywhere. He felt his history with these objects as absurd as it sounds. There was a connection; he felt it with every touch.
The Kron had razed the land, and even the smallest treasure was scarce and... worthless. Each living soul has to survive. They could sell their body and soul for power to live, to survive. Perhaps some people think some of these precious things need to be collected. But it would not aid their growth and their strength.
Finally, sunset came. The skies were washed with a soft gradient of orange. Moulin imagined the skies opening like a gateway and revealing the dazzling view of the setting sun. However, it couldn't not until the world could restore its spirit. Their meal was light. Moulin had eaten late, and he was still full from it. Hadrian urged him to eat a little more, and Moulin finally agreed, eating a little.
Under the starless sky, the wondrous city view of Helion and surrounded by the calm wind, Moulin moaned between the kiss he shared with the man embracing him from behind. Hadrian's arms wrapped him as if trying to warm him even though Moulin couldn't feel the cold. Moulin hummed alluringly as he slipped his tongue inside Hadrian's mouth. The wet slides they performed warm his heart, heated his soul. Both of them didn't want to part. However, Moulin did.
Feeling his liver withdraw from him, Hadrian opened his eyes and stared at Moulin.
"You're hiding your emotions from me..." Moulin began.
A crease appeared between Hadrian's brows. He revealed a troubled expression before sighing as if defeated. "You know me that well?"
"I can feel it. As how you can feel me as well..." Moulin said as he stared into Hadrian's eyes.
Hadrian lifted his gaze and stared at the dark skies. His eyes deepened as he exhaled a breath. He was surrendering, no longer denying it. Chuckling softly, he spoke. "I was afraid when I didn't see you in the room. I thought you were there. Waiting for me. But I realized I had arrived too early, so I waited and waited. For hours, I stayed in the room waiting for you."
Before Moulin could speak, Hadrian added. "I was overreacting. Don't feel bad. I thought I was used to your absence. But I guess not. I should've controlled myself more..." he leaned on Moulin's shoulder and breathed his scent. "You're here now. I feel much better."
Moulin furrowed his brows. He grew worried. Even until now, Hadrian was scarred because of him. For years, he could not cope with Moulin's death. He couldn't. Feeling his heartache, Moulin pressed his lips together. It was all his fault. He recalled Jagra's words, and he could not help but feel even sadder.
"How is it your turn to feel sad?" Hadrian smiled. Gently, he lifted Moulin's chin and kissed his lips. It was light and brief. Sweet and warm. Instantly, Moulin closed his eyes, pouring his emotions into the kiss until he felt content.
"Better?" Hadrian said as he slightly pulled away.
Moulin nodded with a smile. "Maybe a bit more?"
The man lets out a chuckle as he gave his beloved what he wished for. They felt warm even within the embrace of the nightly wind.
...........
The following morning, Moulin came out from the bath. His eyes were misty, and his hair was already dry and soft. A soft layer of moisture made his skin glisten. He wore a loose shirt, and little frills decorated his wrist and his wide-open collar that dipped above his pale stomach.
He walked to the bed and saw Snow sitting on the sheets, ignoring Kier. The big wolf was whimpering as he sat on the floor, staring at Snow with pitiful eyes. On the other hand, the little snow-white fox had his head turned to the side, adorably refusing to face the wolf like a wife giving his husband the cold shoulder. Moulin paused a short while, intrigued by their interactions. Aren't they both males? They weren't even the same species. How come they act more like a married couple?
Moulin shifted his gaze and proceeded to walk out of the doorway. When he emerged, his steps stopped. His eyes landed on the man buttoning his wrists. He looked divine, heavenly elegant in burnt red. He was impressively dressed and livelier. The golden flecks of his eyes seemed to twinkle when he noticed Moulin's presence, but he didn't turn to look.
"You look like you would devour me." Hadrian smiled.
Moulin frowned. "If I could, I would have done it in bed... long ago." Moulin walked towards him and tossed Hadrian's tie on the couch.
Hadrian smirked. "Because you love it. Being devoured and writhing underneath me-"
"Shut up." Moulin threw him a glare. He glanced at Hadrian's tie. "Don't wear it. You look good without it."
"Yes, my love."
Moulin shook his head. "Where are you going?"
Hadrian smiled. His hand reached out for Moulin, grabbing his waist and pulling him near until their bodies pressed. His voice, hot but honest. "This Lord is holding an assembly. It will bore you."
"It won't," Moulin said. "I want to know. I want to learn everything about the city. I want to help." He stopped. Silver eyes gleamed beautifully. "If you will let me..."
Golden eyes deepened. Hadrian's arm around Moulin's waist tightened. After a moment of deep thought, he smiled faintly. "Alright."
"You are worried," Moulin said.
"I am. But perhaps this is an opportunity for you to grasp a position. We need to raise your status here in the Towers. Prove your worth and show them how valuable you are." Hadrian leaned closer until there were only a few centimeters left between them. "The past days have bored you. I felt it. Think of this as a challenge."
Moulin's smiled. The Towers would not allow anyone useless to remain within. With a smile, Moulin closed the gap between them. He wondered what Hadrian had planned for him.