"How did he get here without us noticing?"

"How long has he been there?"

They quizzed at the same time. They stared wide-eyed at the figure, unaware of what the proper etiquette for such a situation was.

"Nmph!" The man released a sigh of relief, laying lazily with his head resting on his palm. "That was such a touching scene. And the way you wrap your hands around Nytherael, at such an ungodly hour..." he fanned himself dramatically.

"Hey, don’t start rumours."

He tilted his head, just slightly. Amusement dancing in his eyes. His lips curved up, intrigued.

"Oh, then, what is the truth?"

"Sseraphis," Nytherael snapped out of his trance. He pulled away from Rhysandor hold and focused all of his attention on his venomous lover. "How come you are here?"

"Why?" Sseraphis asked, drawing on the pillow with his finger. His violet naturally painted nails glimmered under the candlelight. "Were you two doing something that I shouldn’t witness?"

"Hey, snakey. I told you not to spread rumours," Rhysandor scolded him. He refused to allow Sseraphis open to question the pure bond between him and Nytherael and stain it with baseless accusations.

"Snakey?" Sseraphis’ face twisted. His shadow started moving on its own, gaining a free will.

Nytherael panicked. He recalled the innocent bypasser outside the spa who Sseraphis had cursed to the pits of the abyss just to prove a point to him. He worried of the sane fate falling to his friend.

"Rhys, I think you should go. It’s late. Why not get some sleep," he ushered Rhysandor off the bed and guided him out.

Sseraphis lifted his eyebrow. He exhaled, releasing poison into the air only to inhale it again. The refill of poison in his lungs calmed his nerves. His shadows relaxed, too.

As they reached the door, Rhysandor stopped. He touched Nytherael’s arm with worry. "Are you certain you want to be alone in a room with...him," his eyes snapped back to the bed where Sseraphis lay.

Sseraphis waved at him while smiling happily. His angelic smile sent shudders to Rhysandor like tiny deathly insects crawling up and down his skin.

He had a bad feeling about leaving Nytherael and him in the room, alone.

Rhysandor returned his gaze on Nytherael. "How about I wait outside the door, and you can call for me at any moment in case you need me," he offered.

"Rhys, that’s..."

"How sweet," Sseraphis spoke over Nytherael. Rhysandor frowned. He threw a nasty glare at Sseraphis. Sseraphis just gleamed brightly, guilt-free. "I’m just expressing how moved I am. Your friendship is truly inspirational."

"Sseraphis, stop provoking him," Nytherael intervened. He stood in front of Rhysandor and blocked his friend’s view of his scorned lover. "I think you should head to your room and rest, Rhys. I got this."

Rhysandor left half-heartedly. He had his doubts about Sseraphis’ intentions for suddenly shoeing up, but he couldn’t go against Nytherael’s wishes to be alone with him.

However, he didn’t follow Nytherael’s instructions and return to his room. He stayed outside Nytherael’s room and waited for them to talk. His heart would only find peace once Sseraphis leaves and Nytherael is still in one peace.

With Rhysandor gone, Nytherael locked the door and turned around. "Arghh!" He screamed, his heart freezing still because he had failed to sense Sseraphis move from the bed to standing right behind him. It startled him.

As his scream died down. He heard loud banging on the door and Rhysandor’s worried voice. "Nythe, Nythe... are you alright? Nythe, open the door. Open up!"

Sseraphis lifted his body and stood on his toes. He stared deep into Nytherael mismatched eyes. "Your friend is loud," he whispered against Nytherael’s neck.

Nytherael closed his eyes, ticklish from Sseraphis’ hot breath, hitting his skin.

"Still sensitive around the neck, I see," Sseraphis smirked, pleased with Nytherael’s reaction.

"Sseraphis, what are you doing to Nytherael! Open this door!"

Rhysandor tried with all his might to break open the door. His efforts proved futile. Unknown to him, Sseraphis hand his finger pressed on the door, he released a little of his essence through his finger and the sheer force kept the door put against all of Rhysandor’s struggles to force it open.

"Say, what will become of your four-tailed friend if I..." he dangled his free hand in Nytherael’s visage, violet-black poison in mist form, the same colour as his eyes blithely danced at the tip of his fingers. "When I hold his hand as lovingly as he held yours," he said in a raspy voice.

Nytherael chewed the inside of his cheek. His breathing growing shallow.

The loud banging on the door didn’t stop, but Rhysandor’s voice faded out. Sounding more distant than it was.

"Wh...what do you wa...want?"

"To kill your friend. Can I?"

Sseraphis asked as easy as one would ask to go for a romantic walk. His teasing eyes made it difficult for Nytherael to know if at all he was serious or joking.

Regardless of his intentions, Nytherael wasn’t taking any chances with Rhysandor’s life being the wager. He grabbed Sseraphis’ wrist.

Coming face to face with the incurable poison known to kill any and all beastfolk it comes in contact with, a tightness gathered in his chest.

"Can you... want something else...?"

"How can you say that you regret hurting me and you’ll do whatever it takes to make things right when you won’t even indulge me?" Sseraphis asked, leaning in close, so close that they were near skin to skin.

Nytherael’s shoulders locked. He held himself rigid. The moment stretched, and he grew more and more breathless.

On one hand was his lover demanding the unthinkable to prove he’s truly remorseful and, on the other hand, his friend who’d done nothing but support him whom his lover wanted to kill. He held his breath without realising it.

Sseraphis played with the edges of his hair. He twirled them between his fingers lazily.

"I am here, beloved," he whispered in his sweet bedroom voice.

Nytherael’s focus narrowed at one point, his lips. He couldn’t help it when Sseraphis used thar voice, a voice that was his weakness.

"I am willing to take you back and forget everything."

Nytherael froze. His nerves singing loudly. Sseraphis appearing out of the blue and offering not a truce but a clean slate sounded top good to be true.

He released the breath he was holding and looked into Sseraphis’ rotating ring pupils. The mere sight of those poisonous eyes, so close, felt drowning to him.

His knees weakened. He leaned against the door frame to regather his strength and stabalize his body from sliding down to the floor.c

Sseraphis sneered. "But you broke my heart once, and I have difficulty believing you won’t do it again," he pouted, his fingers continuously twisting locks of Nytherael’s hair. "Prove that this time, I will be your priority and..." he lowered his voice by a few notches that it was barely audible. "Let me kill Rhysandor," he added.

Nytherael pushed him off. Surprisingly, Sseraphis didn’t resist the shove, and his body swayed back. "Owww!" Nytherael cried out as the seven strands of his hair that had been in between Sseraphis’ snapped off his head.

He growled at Sseraphis. "Are you insane?"

Sseraphis raised his hands in the air innocently, "You are the one who pushed me suddenly. How was I to know and let go in time. I can’t read minds."

"Nytherael!" Rhysandor’s panic grew worse. "Why did you scream again? What is Sseraphis doing to you?!"

"Oh, don’t be dramatic. It’ll heal instantly."

"That doesn’t mean that it didn’t hurt," he fired back and walked over to the closest mirror to inspect his head.

Nytherael caressed the spot repeatedly. However, in a span of a minute, the spot healed and new strands of hair grew out to replace the once he’s lost and they only stopped growing once their length matched the length of the rest of his hair.

"See. All healed."

Nytherael breathed out a sigh of relief. "Fortunately."

Sseraphis glanced at the strands of silver hair with golden roots in his hand, and a smirk bloomed on his lips.

"Anyway, why are you here?" Nytherael found the voice to ask.

"I felt your arrival in Vessharn. I figure you’re on your way to meet me, so I thought it’s only wise to come and greet you," he let out, tucking the strands of hair into his pocket. "Have a safe journey."

"What?" Nytherael asked, but it was too late, Sseraphis had vanished from the room, and with it, the force holding the door still. "How weird."

When Rhysandor pushed the door open again, it gave way easily, and he entered inside.

"Nytherael, are you alright? Where’s Sseraphis?" His eyes darted about the room and failed to catch a glimpse of Sseraphis. He gave up and rushed over to check on his friend. "Did he hurt you?"

"No, I’m fine."

Rhysandor found it odd. "He didn’t hurt you. So why was he here?"

That was the billion gold shard question that even Nytherael couldn’t answer. "Beats me. Nothing of what he said and how he acted made sense to me."