It was past midnight when we finally ended our drinking session. Leon seemed to be absolutely impressed with the fact that I managed to drink almost a whole bottle of such strong liquor and was still pretty much alright—only a little tipsy.

He himself didn't drink much, probably afraid of getting drunk, so he was completely sober.

Leon offered to walk me back to the central downtown of Icorith. It seemed like he was worried that I would get into more trouble.

He walked beside me quietly. Our eyes were focusing on the road, or rather the sky.

In the blanket of generous black velvet, I felt as if I was part of nature, alive and unseeing. The darkness made the moon so beautiful, as if setting a stage for it to stand upon. It was the pure black that gave it its beauty.

It didn't take long until we reached my destination. Leon didn't pry further when I told him I would walk alone from there. He seemed to get my implication that I couldn't disclose the location of the secret passage.

"I guess, this is where we part ways," he said.

"Yes." I smiled. "Thank you for today."

"My lady..."

"Yes?"

"If you need a company—or anything at all, please contact me, my lady."

I stared at him for a moment.

"Ah, I'm sorry if I'm being out of line. You probably don't want—"

"Is it really okay for me to contact you when I'm in need of company?"

He seemed surprised, but immediately got over it and answered, "Yes. Of course."

I gave a small smile of satisfaction. I wouldn't say no to such development. My goal was to win his favor after all.

We said goodbye to each other. Before I left, I thanked him again for the—I didn't know. I had lost count of how many times I thanked him for that night alone.

We parted ways and once again, I was back in the tunnel, heading back to the palace.

I hadn't paid much attention before, but when you were left alone with your thoughts, sometimes you just couldn't help but think about the most random things.

I found myself thinking of the tunnel walls; how centuries of stories were locked inside their stony, cold facade. They had seen it all. Loss, rejuvenation, rebellion—yet they still stood strong, unchanged.

I envy that.

I walked leisurely. After such a wild night, the journey back was rather uneventful and I got to the palace safely.

But as I stood in front of the door that led back to my dressing room, I suddenly changed my mind and turned in another direction.

It was only then that everything started sinking in. After the anger burned out, only the ashes of sorrow were left. Everything was truly pointless. And it was a night I felt so alone. I... really didn't want to be alone.

My feet led me to the other entrance of the secret passage.

As soon as I opened the door, the first thing that greeted me was a sword on my neck. I did expect this though, so I took a step back to avoid it from grazing my skin. This was the reason why someone shouldn't creep in on a sword master.

I wasn't angry. On the contrary, I was actually quite satisfied with this reaction. Constant vigilance. It was very important for people like us, who were in constant threat of assassination.

His eyes widened when he realized it was me, and he stood there frozen, only retracting his sword from my neck and leaving it hanging limp on his side.

He looked the same as when I had last seen him days ago: Pretty. Hauntingly pretty, with hollow cheeks and soft pink lips and dark crates under his eyes—his bright eyes that always reminded me of half-lidded sunsets.

We were staring at each other, not sure what to do, but when I saw him looking at me with such intensity, I felt like I was suddenly overwhelmed by countless emotions all over again. I wanted to snap at him, cry on his shoulder, hug him, slap him.

I had been controlled by my emotions the entire night; bouncing back and forth from one extreme to another.

"Arsen..." My voice came out as a helpless whimper.

I didn't know why seeing him brought all my emotions out at once, but he stood right there, waiting for me.

A moment passed between us, and I could hear the wind outside ruffling against the glass of the windows and I gave in. Before I realized it, I already stumbled toward him—my vision was blurry.

The small few steps of the gap—the small, indolent chasm between us was nothing—was less than nothing. Because it took absolutely no effort once I took the first step. I walked and I staggered but then he was right there, ready to catch me.

As I got closer, he reached out and wrapped me in an embrace, accepting me—just like I knew he would.

His arms were around my body as I buried my face in the crook of his neck—the gap that looked perfectly made for this purpose only. I sniffled and wrapped my arms around his waist. His chin rested on my head and I felt the sturdiness of his body, the breathless sigh that ruffled the top of my hair, and the warm—warm jolt of relief that slathered over my chest.

I arched my back and stood on my tiptoes to melt further into him. He smelt of soap and detergent and... mint, yes. And whiskey.

We had hugged before, but never like this. There was something so warm, something that felt right, smelt right at this moment.

I closed my eyes and placed my face against his chest. His hand gently stroked the back of my head and it just made everything worse.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry, Calypso."

What is he sorry for?

I didn't know what he was apologizing for, but I knew he was sincere and I stupidly found comfort in it.

No one had really apologized to me before.

"I told you not to apologize until I say so..." My voice was a whine muffled into his chest as I stained it wet. "Or I will cry..." But I was already crying.

His hand didn't stop as he kept murmuring an apology to me. His whispers reached into my broken heart and broke it further into pieces. It was what I had always wanted to hear... so much... so much. The pain in my chest and my throat made it harder for me to breathe.

But on this cold night, his palm on my head and my back felt so warm that tears just continued. It was a warmth I didn't know I had craved for so long.

"Humiliating..." I mumbled as I shut my eyes tighter, making more tears fall. "I shouldn't cry. Crying is a weakness. I shouldn't show weakness."

"It's okay. It's not humiliating. It's not a weakness," he whispered.

"It is a weakness!" I insisted stubbornly. "People will look down on me if they know—"

"Then you're lucky that I'm the only one who knows, right?" He said cheekily in what must have been his attempt to cheer me up. "But if you're still worried, I'll make an oath to keep your secret."

I slapped his chest lightly. "Stupid! An emperor's oath isn't something to take lightly. Don't waste it on something so trivial—"

"But it's not a waste if it's for you, Calypso..."

What sickeningly sweet words.

He suddenly raised one of his hands. "I swear by Almighty God that I, Arsenio Arcturus, shall keep Calypso Berenice's secret to my grave."

I was dumbfounded to the point that my tears even stopped for a second.

"See, I gave my oath." He looked down into my eyes and smiled reassuringly. "So if you still want to... just cry."

As if his words were order to my heart, the tears burst again, even harder than before. I bit my lip to hold back my sobs, but his arms were just so warm and so... safe? Peaceful? I didn't know.

I didn't know but I cried and cried and he patiently held me in his arms, stroking my head as if comforting a little child.

He did so well. He was so good at comforting people.

Did he comfort Phoebe as well in the first timeline?

But more than that, I suddenly wondered if at some point in time when everything started to crumble down for him—if he had wanted someone to do it to him as well. To hold him and just stroke his head, and give him that warmth and comfort.

Something that I hadn't done.

My heart stung at that realization and I just buried my face deeper in his embrace, wishing it could make up for the time I didn't.

"I'm here for you... You can lean on me," he murmured softly.

The comfort these simple words provided was immense... Although the world was crashing down on me, someone else shared that burden with me. I wasn't alone.

"I'm here," he said again. "I don't know what happened to you, but it must've been really hard. I wish I could give you more comforting words, but I know you don't believe in such bullshit. That's why I won't tell you tomorrow might be a better day—but honestly, I hope it might. I truly hope so."

I blinked, and another tear fell.

How come he and I—how come we have to give ourselves a reason to live every day?

We were both only in our early twenties. In some ways, we were just kids. Two kids who were raised with a responsibility too big for our shoulders, and a life full of incidents that—like anyone's life—were too many to fit into a book.

That's why it's so sad if you think about it, isn't it?

He held me like that for a while until I was calm enough to pull back, but I moved too fast that I lost my balance and my body swayed in exhaustion, or maybe because I was just tipsy and I instinctively reached out to grab Arsen's shoulder for support.

"Ow!" I retracted my hand immediately, feeling my palm burst with tingling pain. I had forgotten how sensitive my skin currently was.

He finally caught sight of my bandaged hand, and I stupidly pulled them behind my back to hide it.

Hah... Like it could make him unsee that. I must not be in my right mind.

Then again, showing my vulnerability like this was a big enough sign that I was clearly not in the right mind.

"What's wrong with your hand?" He asked, looking worried.

"Nothing."

"Did you hurt yourself again?:

"Well, it's..."I bit my lip, trying to come up with something smart to reply to.

"Don't even try to lie. I could tell that you're currently concocting a scenario in your head."

I flinched a little at the sharpness. "Nothing... Really, it's nothing."

He opened his mouth before promptly closing it. It was a bold-faced, embarrassingly thin lie. I took a short breath, wiped the rogue tear escaping from my eye, and squared my shoulders as he raked his eyes all over me.

After he was done looking—done gauging the deflection and damage and perhaps deciding if he was ready to take it—if he was even willing to—only then he opened his mouth.

"You secretly went out of the palace by yourself, didn't you?" Arsen leaned down to match my eye level and now his face was only a few inches away from mine. "And you drank alcohol? You can hardly get drunk, Calypso."

I leaned away from him. Suddenly the more space between us, the better. I felt like a child who was caught red-handed stealing candy. It was embarrassing.

I heard an exhale of air leave his lips. He sounded tired.

"Can you just tell me what happened?" He ruffled his hair in frustration. "It seems as if getting hurt is a new hobby of yours, and I—I can't even help because you don't tell me anything. It makes me feel so frustrated and helpless and—Oh God, I think you'll drive me insane if this continues."

I lifted my chin timidly to meet his gaze and found myself staring into his familiar ruby-like eyes. His hair was messier than usual. His throat bobbed, shoulders straightening under my gaze. He was not trying to intimidate me, he was simply looking at me. It felt as if we were meeting for the first time and I was unfamiliar to him. As if he didn't know where to place me.

I took a small, open-mouthed breath. And I really looked at him. A silent, staring contest ensued. Maybe it was something in the air.

Arsenio Arcturus was truly, honestly beautiful. Even someone who hated him wouldn't be able to deny that. He was a marble statue that came to life, something out of a Greek myth, like—like Ares, the god of war. Like some fire-lit etching in a cave somewhere. It would not surprise me if his likeness could be found in every pretty thing on the planet—from his milky-white skin to his blazing fiery eyes, every fine line and shallow curve.

But... something was definitely different about him, about the way he watched me. It was the tiniest shift.

What has changed?

Our staring contest was interrupted by a fresh wave of my tired tears. My shoulders slumped and I bowed my head, my hair falling forward and hiding my face.

Arsen sighed and reached out to hold me again, pressing my face over his heart.

Somehow he knew what I needed to hear. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to pressure you. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. I just—I just wanted to let you know that it's okay to let go. That I'm here for you. But it's fine if you don't—"

And just like that I crumbled, all my defenses broken.

My body slumped even more but my hands reached up, scrambling to grab the fabric of his shirt to ground myself. I held back a wince when I accidentally clenched my still-sensitive skin too hard, but that wasn't what was important right now.

Arsen led me to one of the couches and slowly pulled me down to curl into his lap. He draped my legs over his, gathered me close into his arms, and let me cry as I started telling him what just happened a few hours ago.

We were so close that I could even feel him flinch and hear his heart beating faster when I reached a particular part of the story. His jaw tightened as if he was trying so hard to suppress his anger, but he didn't interrupt and listened to every word I said.

I told him that I had wanted to go out for some fresh air and then everything else that had happened afterwards, holding back only on some of the more gory details and Leon's whole involvement.

Once I finished, my shudders had calmed and my sobs were reduced to stuttered breaths. Arsen was still holding me, his hand stroking my hair.

Then gently, he weaved his fingers into my hair and used his tender grip to tilt my head back. By all accounts, I was sure that I looked so dreadful right now. My eyes were most likely red and puffy and my face all tear-stained and blotchy.

I zoned in on his face, and my misery quickly morphed into wonder as I saw the tears clinging to his eyelashes and cheeks.

"Arsen?" My eyebrows pulled together in a mixture of confusion and—I didn't know what the other one was.

Arsen used the back of his hand to wipe his own tears. Something—something like determination, like... tenderness began to settle in it.

I inhaled and exhaled, suddenly conscious of how close we were. It made my heart beat uncontrollably.

He had that look again, the effortless softness like it was easy... to accept me.

He dipped his head, slowly, as if he was worried that he would scare me. He let his lips hover over my forehead. "You're so strong, Calypso," he whispered, dragging his other hand to my faintly bruised neck and stroking it gently with his thumb.

He lingered for just another moment before he suddenly pressed a soft, barely-there kiss to my right eyebrow.

I was stunned.

"You're the strongest woman I know." Arsen let the tip of his nose mark the path to the corner of my eye. He dropped another kiss there. "You don't need to be her all the time."

Another kiss for my cheekbone and again under my eye. I didn't even dare to look at his face. I couldn't bear the idea of being hopeful.

"You don't have to be her with me," he said again. Then Arsen rested his chin on top of my head and whispered, "This time, let me be strong for you."

What the—

I was at a loss for words.

What's with this situation?

Ah shit, why is this suddenly so fucking embarrassing?

And him... why did he have to say such pretty words?

Isn't he too sweet? Why is he so nice? Is it because it's how he was written?

Tsk, it's annoying.

"Arsen, I—" I paused, then slowly pulled back. My brows were still pulled together, no longer in tension but something else. Maybe... want? "I..."

I trailed off, letting my eyes dart around for the right words, but in the end, I swallowed the words and said something else instead.

"I'm sorry for making you see such a disgraceful act. I don't know what came over me," I mumbled.

We both knew it wasn't what I actually wanted to say, but this time, he didn't press further.

I fanned my face in embarrassment, trying to dry the remaining tears.

"I told you, it's fine, you know," he said. "It's fine to slip out of your mask of perfection sometimes. Or at least when you're with me."

"Perfection isn't a mask, it's a lifestyle," I replied blankly, but my heart was fluttering underneath the nonchalant expression.

He just shook his head helplessly as if he could see right through my act.

There was a moment of silence before he opened his mouth again. "Are you feeling alright?" His voice was soft and low and really, unfailingly kind, and all I wanted to do was run away from it.

I turned my face away to look at—anywhere else but his face. "About what? Stabbing a man to death?"

"Yes. And... everything."

"I'm not sure," I answered, closing my eyes and trying to breathe in deeper. "He attacked me first. He hurt me. And I was just... angry. Eager for revenge. So I kind of lost myself for a moment."

To be honest, rather than angry at them, I was angrier at this world for putting me in such a situation in the first place.

"Don't beat yourself up for what you did. To tell you the truth, if you didn't kill them already, I'd go find them and do it myself. Do you know that the only thing that keeps me from losing control right now is fantasizing about their violent murder at your hands? I really hope you made it as painful as possible."

I widened my eyes in disbelief at his words. I never guessed something like that would come out from the mouth of a guy that was supposed to talk about the integrity and the power of Love, with a capital L.

These main characters' reactions were truly surprising to me today.

I gave him a sidelong look. "Doesn't fantasizing about murder weaken one's moral fiber?"

"I don't have a single moral fiber left to speak of."

"You don't?" I chuckled.

"No. I gave them all to the orphans," he answered with a serious expression. "Oh wait, I'm also an orphan, am I? Well, I'm the exception then."

We burst out laughing. I tried to stop myself—really did, but I felt so silly and funny and light and it had been a while since I felt so easy and careless.

It was the same for him too, I suppose. It was definitely the most genuine laugh we ever had after the regression.

Ah, this is why it is so hard for me to just let go of him.

I needed him—because only when I was with him did I feel alive—it was the only time I felt humane. Even someone like me... needed this kind of understanding, not judgment.

The world was always judging me, anyway... then where would I be accepted?

Here...

I am not judged here. No matter how I am—no matter how much of a pathetic loser or pathetic I am... I'm home. He won't look at me as if I'm flawed or worthless. I matter. I do matter to him.

And I was happy by this realization... even if this was a dream. Even if none of this was real.

How happy I am to have this moment... where I truly matter to you.

***

Author's Note:

Finally, Calypso got to show her emotions to someone like normal people. I think she has been suppressing her emotions too much, especially before the regression, and it's bad. It is a well-known fact that suppressing emotions has a physiological impact on the body. Much of the time this is short-term and causes no lasting problems. But longer term, the continual suppression of emotions can have detrimental physical and psychological effects. The effects of suppressed emotions include anxiety, depression, and other stress-related illnesses. And you know if something is being suppressed too much, it guarantees a major blowup at some point, like what happened with Calypso in ch 24 when she killed those thugs.

Oh, and please tell me what you guys think about this chapter and the development of their relationship. If I remember how in the earlier chapter they couldn't even say two words without ending up arguing with each other, we've come a long way, my friends. Lol...

Last but not least, thank you for still reading this. Please don't forget to vote and leave a comment. I'd appreciate it very much. ❤️

P.S. You guys, should listen to the theme song of this chapter. It suits them so well.

In the Novel - Minnie

I'm in the novel
The main character's friend
I'm drowning in your coldness again
No I'm not okay
I'm getting tired of meaningless obsession
Baby I'll die in the novel

Baby tell me the truth
Do you really mean it? Say it again
I think you're lying
Oh my gosh, you confuse me like hell
Don't fake your mind
You don't have to lie
You know I want you, I only want you

Can you see me crying
I can't save myself
I'm falling into you, no matter what
Even if I die
We are meant to be
It's all just a story created by my illusion

You are my gravity
Cause you're my gravity
You are my gravity
When our fingertips brushed as if we were dancing
It was full, you shine like a moonlight

Baby what should I do
Why do I have these things in my head?
We are denying
All our feelings but we're here again
Don't fake your mind
You don't have to lie
You know I want you, I only want you

Can you see me crying
I can't save myself
I'm falling into you, no matter what
Even if I die
We are meant to be
It's all just a story created by my illusion

You are my gravity
Cause you're my gravity
You are my gravity
When our fingertips brushed as if we were dancing
It was full, you shine like a moonlight

We are falling apart for no reason
It's just a stupid development for a story
When the story ends
Let the truth remain

You are my gravity
Cause you're my gravity
You are my gravity
When our fingertips brushed as if we were dancing
It was full, you shine like a moonlight