I
Sebastian stared at the canopy over his bed, letting his eyes trail on the drawn green curtains all around it.
His mind was scattered — guilt and ecstasy and dread and thoughts of her all swirling behind his irises as a pale, slender and soft arm made its way around his bare waist. Sebastian felt him sigh in content as he nuzzled against his neck, cuddling him closer.
Ominis called it love.
And Sebastian probably did, too, once or twice.
Was once or twice enough in three years?
Would it be more than once or twice with her?
Ominis' lips were barely grazing the curve of his shoulder, his warm breath caressing Sebastian's collarbones as he dozed off in his bliss — and Sebastian had to acquiesce to it as well, his hips twitching still from the shared pleasure they just consumed.
Just pleasure?
What was this feeling?
When Sebastian had first envisioned his future relationships, he had been naively seduced by the promising pages of tales and novels of utmost romance. He was young back then, with a thirst for knowledge he had thought could only be found in books. But not all books held truth in them. Not all books could be trusted.
And if Ominis had always admonished Sebastian against the deceit of Dark Magic, he had failed to warn him of the darkest of all.
Trust. Vulnerability.
Feelings.
Love.
He had been unfaithful, Sebastian realised, his heart torn at the prospect of the next certain euphoria that would welcome him if only he let go of his restraints, if only he imagined that the arm around his waist was gentler, lighter, more delicate, more hers.
He's in your bed, he told himself.
Ominis' breathing slowly evened, a mockery to Sebastian's strained sighs as he chewed on his lip.
But his ragged breath did little to drown his desire, his longing, and instead it pressed on his lungs more and more, like a tongue of flame scorching the shackles he had to force around his heart — and the more it did, the more they heat up, and the more it burnt.
Ominis' arm around him was his chains, the drawn tents his prison. The green velvet was in flames.
And so he let his mind wander, red on his neck of her smeared lipstick, her quiet snoring next to his ear. And bliss took him, too.