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missaengg · 1 day ago

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A Bittersweet Reunion

Pairing: Caleb x f!reader Tags: nsfw, mdni, developing relationship, light angst, some plot Word Count: 4.9k Because standing before you is a face you never thought you’d see ever again. Standing before you, dressed in his colonel’s uniform with an apple in his gloved hand, is Caleb, who’s supposed to be dead. The same Caleb you watched die a year ago. The same Caleb you mourned for months, still mourned deep in your heart even though it might appear to the world you’ve moved on. ao3 link here.

Your eyes snap open abruptly, blinking to clear the haze blurring your vision as they adjust to the dim light, a ceiling you don’t recognize coming into view. Dazed, you sit up rapidly, a wave of dizziness overcoming you from the sudden change in elevation.

Your brain attempts to clear the fog, trying to remember how you came to be on this couch, in this room. The last thing you remember, you were on a mission, tracking down a potential lead about the Aether core not too far from Linkon City. It was supposed to be a simple scouting mission to verify the lead, but a few minutes after your arrival, you were ambushed from behind, your consciousness turning black. The next thing you know waking up in this strange location.

You reach for your holster, cursing under your breath when you find it empty.

The realization you’re unarmed slams the precariousness of your situation into you, the high alert of potential danger returning clarity back to your muddled brain. It’s only now that you notice the blanket draped over you, that your body rests on a black, leather couch. The leather feels smooth under your hands, an attestment to its high level of quality, which fits the caliber of what appears to be a penthouse living room. Though, it’s too dark to distinguish much more than the outline of the sparse furniture inside save for the brief flashes of lightning bursting through the wall-length windows.

Your eyes dart left and right as you try to regain your bearings, searching for a clue as to where you are or who might’ve attacked you.

“You’re awake.”

A deep voice cuts through the silence. Somewhere in the back of your head, you have a nagging sensation that you recognize this voice. There’s a sense of familiarity as though you’ve heard it many times before. A voice that you’ve missed ardently for the past year, but it couldn’t be. It’s impossible.

The long tail of a heavy, black coat and a pair of pristine knee-high, leather boots sweep into your vision. Your eyes follow the intruder’s form up, your heart wrenching when they settle on his face. Because standing before you is a face you never thought you’d see ever again. Standing before you, dressed in his colonel’s uniform with an apple in his gloved hand, is Caleb, who’s supposed to be dead. The same Caleb you watched die a year ago. The same Caleb you mourned for months, still mourned deep in your heart even though it might appear to the world you’ve moved on.

“You’re alive?” The words tumble out of your mouth before you can stop them.

Caleb meets your gaze, a flicker of something akin to regret crossing his galaxy-colored purple eyes. After a momentary pause, he answers, “I am.”

He provides no explanation. No apology. He provides nothing, but silence, and it hangs heavily in the air, the only two occupants of the room frozen in place. One frozen from guilt. The other from shock.

You break the silence first, hesitantly reaching for his face, your fingers gingerly tracing the curve of his cheek. “Is it really you?”

Caleb nods, leaning into your touch and placing his hand over yours. “It’s me… I’m back.” He nuzzles your palm causing you to gasp and lay your hand flush against his face.

You can feel the warmth of his cheek on your palm, the pressure of his large hand covering yours. The warmth spreads across your hand and down your arm, proof that the Caleb before you isn’t a dream. That he’s real and alive and in front of you.

But you’ve had this dream so many times before only to wake up, your hand grasping nothing that you don’t trust what your senses are telling you. “I’m not dreaming? You’re real?”

Caleb chuckles, and you feel his facial muscles shift and his amusement vibrate on your fingers. “I’m as real as I’ll ever be, Pipsqueak.”

You close your eyes, wondering if you dare allow yourself to believe this is reality, that he won’t disappear when you open them again.

“Hey.” Caleb’s voice pulls you out of your reverie, and you feel his hand cradle your chin, tilting it towards him. “It’s really me. I’m really here.”

Holding your breath, you open your eyes one at a time, still skeptical as to whether this is just another dream, but when your vision clears, it’s filled with Caleb’s gentle smile. Tears spring to your eyes. “Caleb…” You lurch forward, throwing your arms around his shoulders. “I missed you. I missed you so much.”

Caleb returns your embrace, patting your back in soothing circles, the same way he did when you were children. “I know. I missed you too.”

It’s only now with his arms around you that you can admit to yourself this isn’t a fleeting illusion, that he’s actually here in the flesh. Hugging you.

That he’s been alive for the past year and didn’t tell you.

The relief you feel shifts into a seething rage that courses through your veins like fire. You shove him away, roughly, clenching your hands into fists and slamming them into his shoulders. Once. Twice. Three times before you feel any semblance of satisfaction. “You’re alive, and you didn’t tell me?!” You hit him again, each contact of your fist with his torso echoing your frustration and grief. “Why? Why didn’t you say anything?!”

Caleb simply stands there, doing nothing to block your assault as if he knows he deserves every ounce of your ire. He allows you to pummel him, over and over again until you stop of your own volition, too exhausted to continue.

“I couldn’t,” he replies when you finally settle, casting his gaze away from you to the floor. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? Sorry?!” you snarl, disbelief raising the volume of your voice with each word you spit out. “Sorry doesn’t cut it, Caleb. You let me think you were dead for a year. A year!” You punch him one more time. Hard.

“I know.”

“I mourned you for an entire year, Caleb. Why? Why didn’t you tell me?” Your voice cracks as it trails off, your unshed tears adding a hoarseness to the otherwise clear timbre of your voice.

“I’m sorry…”

You slump back onto the couch, your spent fists dropping listlessly into your lap. “Where…where have you been all this time? Why couldn’t you tell me you were alive? Why couldn’t you contact me?” The questions come quickly as your fingers twist together with so much force, they turn white. “Why?”

“I’ll explain everything. I promise.”

You stare at your childhood friend who refuses to look you in the eye while rolling that stupid apple in his hands. You want to keep demanding him for answers, anything to explain himself even if they’re half-hearted lies, but seeing him alive triggers the memory of the explosion that killed him. Even a year later, you can still recall the scene so vividly. You can still feel the raging heat burning your skin. The eruptive force knocking you off your feet. The acrid smoke stinging your nose. The despair as you discovered the necklace you gifted him through your blurry vision and your ringing ears.

No one could’ve survived a blast of that magnitude. No one. But somehow Caleb survived, and if Caleb had been alive after all this time, then it’s possible he might not be the only survivor.

“Grandma,” you whisper, your eyes widening with possibility, a hope you haven’t felt in a long time blooming in your heart. “If you’re alive, does that mean…Is she…?”

“No,” Caleb answers curtly, his kind eyes turning cold. “She’s dead.”

Your face twists. A part of you knew that it was a slim possibility, but the resulting devastation is the same, slashing the delicate hope you dared feel to pieces. “How did you…survive?”

Guilt ripples below Caleb’s stony expression. His silence creates a suffocating tension that hangs palpably in the air, so long a horrible thought pops into your head. One so awful it kills you to even consider it. One you can’t even begin to entertain, let alone fathom.

“Were you– Did you–” cause the explosion? You want to ask, but the rest of your question withers away in your throat because the idea of Caleb being responsible for Grandma’s death is too horrific for you to voice out loud.

Caleb doesn’t say a word, but he doesn’t have to. The pained expression he wears on his face says everything.

“No…Caleb, tell me that’s not true,” you demand, searching his face for even a hint that you’re wrong. Dead wrong. “Tell me you didn’t– Tell me I’m mistaken, that I don't know what I’m accusing you of.”

Caleb flinches at the sharp edge in your voice. “It had to be done.”

“I don’t understand.” You lean forward, desperate to know what he’s thinking, desperate to make this all make sense even if in some twisted way. “She took us in and raised us when we had nowhere else to go. How could you?”

“Pipsqueak, I…” Caleb runs a tired hand over his face, over the bags under his eyes and his haggard, sunken cheeks. “I didn’t have a choice.”

“How can you say that? Of course you had a choice,” you shout, vehemently shaking your head and bolting upright onto your knees. “How could you murder the woman who gave us a home?” You’re so incensed you almost don’t notice the way Caleb clenches his fists and grits his teeth, but you don’t care. You don’t care if he’s agitated. You need answers, answers only he can give. “Caleb, answer me.”

“Because she hurt us!” he explodes before softening. “Because…she hurt you. She had to pay for her crimes.”

“Caleb, she saved us.”

“She experimented on us.”

“And then she had a change of heart,” you argue.

“It doesn’t matter. She’s just as culpable as the other scientists,” Caleb says with a finality. “She hurt us – hurt you – and for that she had to pay.”

“No, Caleb.” You press your lips together, surveying the man barely holding himself together in front of you. A man you barely recognize anymore. “She saw what they were doing to us and broke us out. You know that.”

Caleb laughs harshly, his laughter devoid of any warmth, ringing hollow in the cold, dark room. “She didn’t.”

“What?”

“The organization decided that we’d be less stressed in a home environment so they tasked her with raising us. It was just another means to gather data for their experiments.”

“That…” That you didn’t know. Deep creases form in your brow as you process this new revelation, but deep down you know it doesn’t matter. Not anymore, now that she’s gone. “It might’ve started that way, but she never went back. She took us away and hid. She made it right.”

You startle when Caleb ruffles your hair the way he used to in the days before he “died”, a ghost of a rueful grin on his lips. He takes a seat on the black marble coffee table, looking down at the apple in his hand as he muses on old, painful memories. “You were too young to remember, but I remember everything. I remember how they kept us locked up. How they poked and prodded us. How they ignored our screams.” He levels his gaze with yours. “I remember how you’d cling to me after they were done. How you’d cry yourself to sleep in my arms. How powerless I was to stop it – stop them. I remember it all.”

A storm rages in the depths of his gaze, one so turbulent it causes your breath to hitch in your throat. “Caleb…”

“But I’m not powerless anymore.” Caleb’s eyes narrow into slits. “Not anymore.”

Buried deep beneath his fury, you catch a glimpse of the scared, little boy he must’ve been back then. The same hurt, little boy who bravely protected you the best he could with no one there to comfort him. You reach for him, slowly, but your hand falters at the last moment. “This isn’t you. This isn’t the Caleb I know.”

You silently plead with him to deny everything he’s just said. To say he hasn’t changed. That he’s still the same Caleb, the same childhood friend you’ve always known.

Caleb smirks, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards, but his eyes are blank. Emotionless. Dead.

“Caleb...?”

“Did you honestly think I’d always be the same kind-hearted boy from your childhood?” he asks cruelly as he lits the apple to his mouth and takes a bite, his canines glinting as they sink into the fruit. A streak of lightning hurtles through the night sky behind him, bathing him in an ominous glow.

You watch in muted horror as he chews methodically, taking his time to grind the white flesh between his teeth and swallow.

“I’m not the Caleb you knew anymore,” he says remorsefully. “I changed the moment I started my revenge.”

“...Revenge?”

“For what they did to you,” Caleb growls, slamming the apple down on the table and spraying flecks of juice over its polished surface. “The ones who experimented on us. Ever. I’m going to destroy them piece by piece from the inside out until there’s nothing left. So they can’t harm us – harm you – ever again.”

You yearn to tell him that he doesn’t have to, that you don’t need revenge. That you only wish for him to be back in your life, but the steely resolve engulfing him gives you pause because you can sense that nothing you say will change his mind. Nothing you say will stop him. “Is that what you’ve been doing all this time?” you ask instead.

Caleb nods.

“All by yourself?”

He nods again.

Something inside you breaks to know that he’s been on his own, alone, consumed by anger, pain, and hate. You reach for him again, but this time you cradle his head in your arms, nestling it into your shoulder. “You don’t have to do this alone. I can fight with you.”

Caleb stirs, his fingers clutching the hem of your shirt like a child clutching someone for comfort. “I want…I want to keep you in a world where it’s just the two of us. I want that more than anything,” he begins, quietly, his voice muffled by your body. “But until everything is resolved, I need to make sure you’re safe and sound. I need to know you’re out of harm’s way.”

You pull back, placing both of your hands on his shoulders, looking him square in the eyes. “I’m not the same young girl from back then. I can handle myself. I’m a Hunter, I fight wanderers for fuck’s sake.”

The corners of Caleb’s mouth quirk upwards into a tiny, wry grin, the first genuine smile breaking through his frigid exterior. “I never said you couldn’t, Pipsqueak.”

“Then why?”

Caleb cups your cheek, stroking it with his thumb. Despite the leather glove, the warmth of his hand somehow manages to reach you, sinking below the surface and stoking a bittersweet nostalgia. “Because…” His voice trembles. “...it would kill me if something were to happen to you.”

His eyes waver with fear, regret, and…longing. A wistful yearning that you know all too well, one you’ve suppressed time and time again. Your head tilts before you process what you’re doing, your lips seeking his if only to satisfy your desire to touch him, desire laced with your own anguish and need.

“Squeaks…” Caleb stops you before your lips meet. “Don’t… Don’t tempt me.”

“I’m not,” you snap, jerking back, the realization of what you almost did and his rejection burning on your cheeks. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. I–”

But you’re interrupted when Caleb grazes your collarbone, the intimate nature of his touch furthering the scorching blush spreading on your face. His finger hooks under the silver chain around your neck and pulls, exposing the small apple charm and nameplate with the words “When U Come Back” inscribed in the metal from where it hides under your shirt.

His breath hitches, eyeing the necklace in his hand. “You’ve been wearing this all this time?”

Your heart twinges when you see the charms glittering on his palm, remembering all the nights you clutched it to your heart as you cried yourself to sleep. The way you felt it pressed against your sternum when you laid a hand over your chest every time you missed him, multiple times a day.

“It was the only thing I had left…of you.”

Caleb curls his fingers around the pendants, taking care not to tug the chain lest he hurts you. He closes his eyes and bites his lip, a shudder-like groan rising from deep within and ripping through his throat. “Do you know how difficult it was for me? To have to hold myself back while seeing you everyday? I know what I feel is wrong. I know you only see me as an older brother. But I’ve always held myself back and endured. Day, after day, after day. It was suffocating.” Caleb opens his eyes, staring at you imploringly. He breathes heavily as if each labored breath is a battle to restrain himself. “So don’t make this harder for me, Squeaks, cause I don’t know how much I can hold back anymore.”

You bring your hands to the sides of his face, leaning forward and resting your forehead against his, your faces so close, the tips of your noses brush together. “Then don’t. Don’t hold back anymore,” you whisper. “I never thought of you as my brother, Caleb. I want this. I want you.”

Caleb draws in a sharp breath, and then his arms are circling your waist, pulling you into his lap. His lips find their way to yours, moving with an urgency that matches your own, a frantic need to consume him in his entirety.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” he husks, pulling away just enough to speak, his ragged breath a wisp of heat on your lips. He sweeps his thumb tenderly along your bottom lip, a wanton heat flooding his hooded eyes.

You forget how to breathe. The lust in his eyes holds you captive, sending your stomach aflutter. “Me too,” you murmur.

A quiver runs down Caleb’s tense body, and then his lips are on yours once more, holding you tight as though you might disappear if he lets go, his large hands pressing firmly on your back as they roam. Neither of you break the kiss, not even to breathe, so consumed by the hunger to feel one another after being apart for so long, as if you couldn’t get enough of one another. Because you couldn’t. Not after a year of missing him, wishing you could hold him in your arms, dreaming of his touch.

Caleb’s breath mingles with yours, his tongue darting to the slight part between your lips, demanding entrance. You accede, and his tongue slips in, entwining with your own. You can taste the remnants of the apple he ate just moments before lingering on his tongue adding a sweetness to the dizzying onslaught of passionate kisses you share.

All your senses are filled with Caleb. Moaning, your fingers dig into the stiff fabric of his coat along his broad back, reeling from the scent of his cologne, the warmth of his embrace, the tickle of his teeth nibbling your lip, his heady pants puffing in your ear. But it’s not enough, not even close to being enough.

You want more.

His lips relinquish their hold and travel down the curve of your neck, a trail of fleeting, feathery kisses left behind in their descent. Waves of pleasure radiate from each epicenter, tingling down your spine and pooling into an unsatiated arousal.

A surprised gasp darts out from between your swollen lips when his teeth graze over where your heartbeat pulses as your hips twitch, your body now painfully aware of just how even the simplest of his touch is driving you to the brink of insanity. How even the most gentle of his caresses are igniting a fire you can’t extinguish on your own. “I want…I want to feel you.”

Caleb growls, a guttural sound filled with his desire, evidence of his crumbling resolve. Reluctantly, he pulls away from your neck, fumbling in his haste to remove his crisp, yet cumbersome officer’s coat. He discards the heavy fabric to the push carpet, and once he’s free, you waste no time reaching for the buttons of his shirt, slipping each confining circle through their tethers as fast as your fingers can allow. His bare torso comes into view, bit by bit, each reveal quickening your pulse until your heart hammers in your chest.

Caleb loosens his tie, but before he can finish pulling it off over his head, your mouth is on him, tracing every rise and crevice of his muscles with your tongue, with your lips, and with your teeth.

“Shit, Pipsqueak,” he rasps, somehow managing to toss his tie aside while your mouth distracts him.

A strained ache pulses beneath the surface that fuels your desire, emboldening you to leave a dark, red bruise wherever your mouth lands.

“Squeaks, slow down,” Caleb hisses, pushing you back gently, but you cling to him, steadfast, refusing to quit your torment.

“No,” you mumble against his flushed skin, continuing your ravagement much to his detriment. “I just got you back…I want…I want you…”

Caleb mutters a near inaudible ‘fuck’, and then springs into action, hauling you to your feet. Soon, the two of you are a tangle of limbs and fabric in an attempt to separate flesh from cloth. Tugging your shirt over your head. Yanking his shirt over his shoulders. Unclasping bras. Unbuttoning pants. Unbuckling belts. One by one, they too join the discarded clothing on the floor, cast aside without a second thought.

Your lips locked together, Caleb falls back on the couch, and you fall with him, your legs tucked, straddling his thighs. A hand on your lower back, his other slides to your breast, kneading the soft flesh and thumbing your pert nipple intent on eliciting a sweet little moan.

You give him what he wants. You moan, a throaty, sultry, breathless moan.

Caleb buries his face in between your naked breasts, planting reverent kiss after kiss along the swell. He catches a nipple between his teeth, flicking it with the tip of his tongue and rolling it in his mouth.

Your fingers twist into his hair, your body humming from delight. A particularly naughty nip drives you to gasp his name and arch your back, your throbbing sex grinding down into his pelvis and dragging along the length of his clothed erection, the thin fabric of his briefs one of the last two barriers separating you from him.

“Caleb,” you whimper, a wordless plea begging him to make you his, to claim you as his own.

Caleb presses one last kiss to the divet between your breasts. “I won’t be able to stop myself if we continue,” he pants, his voice strained with restraint. Do you still want this? Want me? His unspoken question quivers in his probing gaze.

“Caleb, I want you.” Holding his gaze, you sit up on your knees and hook your thumbs over the waistband of your underwear, dragging it down your thighs, over your knees, and off your ankles. You toss the thin item of clothing aside. Your answer to his question. “Don’t make me wait any longer. Please.”

Caleb releases a long, drawn-out groan, what little resolve he has left crumbling. He tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, caressing the side of your face as he commits every detail of you to his memory. “God, you’re beautiful.”

He kisses you again, sweetly, tenderly. His hand glides down the side of your body, grazing the plush of your thigh with the pads of his fingers, coming between your legs and running through your folds. As he does, he violently twitches, feeling how ready you are for him, how your slick arousal coats his fingers.

A shaky whimper escapes you when Caleb finds his way to your clit, stroking the sensitive bud in sloppy circles. Shockwaves of pleasure rip through your lower abdomen, leaving you squirming, mewling, whispering his name and biting back moans.

“You’re driving me crazy,” Caleb murmurs into your ear. “The way you sing for me.”

His voice reverberates in your ear, husky and low, a spine-tingling thrill throbbing in your sex, your need for him growing too painful for you to ignore. Dizzy with desire, you reach for his briefs, intent on removing the last obstacle keeping you from him. “I want to feel you…feel you inside me.”

Caleb curses, lifting his hips so you can pull his underwear down past his hips and his thighs, kicking it off once you reach his knees. He grasps the sides of your hips, simultaneously guiding you down onto him as he thrusts up to enter you. You sink down his length, gasping as your warmth encases him and his cock drags on your walls.

“Caleb,” you cry out, reeling from how he’s stretching you with his girth. You feel yourself clench around him, hearing Caleb grunt as your walls flutter to accommodate his size.

“Shit, you feel…feel so good.” Caleb rakes his teeth over the crest of your shoulder, his chest heaving in and out, his passion getting the best of him. “Fuck.”

Tightening his grip, he rocks you against him, his movements controlled, slow. Your lips meet, stealing the breath out of each other’s mouths, coming together and parting, building into a heady whirlwind. As your kisses grow more fervent, so too do Caleb’s thrusts. Your hands fall forwards, bracing themselves on the back of the couch. Your legs hinge at the knees, rising and sinking onto Caleb to match his urgent rhythm.

This – Caleb’s body joined with yours, his fingertips digging into your skin, his lips claiming yours – is everything you’d ever wanted, better than everything you’d ever dreamed.

Better than all the times you spent touching yourself imagining him inside you, claiming all the intimate parts of yourself you wanted to save for him. Better than dreaming of how it’d feel to be in his arms, kissing him, being kissed by him. How he’d whisper your name and stroke your hair. How he’d hold you tight and never let you go.

Breaking the kiss, you throw your head back, the unmistakable tightening of the coil pulling your muscles taut. Caleb plants his lips on the side of your neck, sucking down, collecting the taste of your skin on his tongue. He bucks into you at a relentless pace, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix with each deep thrust. You can barely keep up with how fast he’s going, how quickly he has you riding his lap.

“Caleb,” you mewl, your eyes closed, your mouth parted. “Caleb, Caleb, Caleb…” You ardently whisper his name over and over again.

“Say my name,” Caleb mumbles. “Say it again.”

“Caleb…” you whimper.

The coil is tense with pressure, on the cusp of snapping free.

“Tell me you love me,” Caleb pleads, his breath wisping on your skin.

“I love you.” You brush your lips on his brow. “I love you.” On the pink glow dusting his cheeks. “I love you.” On the tip of his nose. “I love you.”

Caleb tilts his head up seeking you, and you rest your forehead on his, your lips mere inches away from one another, your breaths mixing together, drinking each other in.

Caleb’s hips snap into you, hard, and then you feel it, the coil springing free, releasing all the pent up tension it was holding. All the words you’ve wanted to say to one another over the years. All the repressed emotions. All the happy memories and the shared joy. All the grief and anguish and pain. All of it culminating into a burst of ecstasy roiling through your quaking body.

You passionately cry out his name, tremors coursing up and down your body. Caleb continues rolling your hips together with his, your rapture pushing him further over the brink, but when your walls pulsate around his length, he catapults over the edge, slamming you down onto his lap as he floods you with his own euphoric bliss.

Foreheads pressed together, Caleb whispers “I love you” before closing the distance between your lips, savoring how you taste, how you feel. He gently shifts your bodies, still joined together as one, until you’re both lying on the couch, wrapped in each other’s arms.

You snuggle into his firm chest, relishing how perfectly your bodies seem to fit together, how your head seems to tuck effortlessly under his chin. Your eyes flutter closed. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat in your ears lulls you into a state of drowsiness.

You feel safe. At home. Protected. Cherished. Loved.

As the hazy tendrils of sleep tug on your consciousness, it faintly occurs to you that you didn’t ask him how you came to be here in this penthouse suite with him. But you push the thought from your mind. Right now, you’re just happy to have him back. Right now, you want nothing more than to stay in his arms.

Tomorrow. You can ask him tomorrow.

But for now, all you want is to hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat and the warmth of his embrace.

For now, all you need is him.

The answers can come tomorrow.

Taglist: @william-rex

#caleb #caleb x you #caleb x reader #love and deepspace caleb #caleb love and deepspace #lnds caleb #lads caleb #caleb smut #love and deepspace smut #lads smut #lnds smut #love and deepspace #lads #lnds #love and deepspace fanfic #lads fanfic #lnds fanfic

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missaengg · 1 day ago

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Cuuuuuuute 😍 And that ending!!!

"Meeting in the Moonlight" (Clavis' POV)

- Clavis Lelough & Cassandra Bellarose (Ikemen Prince)

Fandom: Ikemen Prince

Characters: Clavis Lelouch & Cassandra Bellarose (OC)

Pairing: Clavis Lelouch x Cassandra OC

Genre: (tiny, tiny bit of angst), Mostly Romantic Fluff

Word Count: ~3700

Summary:

A hidden balcony. A mysterious woman. A moment that stirs something he’s tried to bury.

For Clavis Lelouch, every encounter is a game—but this one feels dangerously different.

Clavis leaned against the balcony's stone railing, the cool night air brushing against his skin as he surveyed the quiet garden below. The palace—his playground—was a stage where he played the role of the troublesome prince with a devil-may-care smile. But tonight, even the familiar thrill of mischief couldn’t dull the sharp edges of pain he carried beneath his charm.

The surroundings, once alive with his antics, felt distant and cold, as if the very stones mirrored the emptiness he kept buried beneath his smirk. His jaw tightened as unwelcome memories pressed in, their weight leaving his breaths shallow and uneven. When nights like this came, when shadows crept too close, his carefully constructed mask faltered, and he felt the cracks threatening to widen.

He pushed away from the railing, forcing a smirk onto his lips. It was brittle—an illusion as fragile as glass—but it was all he had. Vulnerability was a feeling he despised. It only served as a reminder that beneath his charm and wit he was just a waste of space haunted by the ghosts of his past, a mediocre fool who couldn’t entirely escape the shadow of the monster he was destined to serve for life, or the memory of his mother’s tragic end.

The creak of a door broke through his reverie, drawing his attention to the faint rustle of movement behind him. He slipped into the shadows, his instincts taking over as he waited, composing himself before anyone could glimpse the cracks in his facade.

She entered quietly—a young woman he’d seen a few times with Yves and Licht. Though striking, she wasn’t like the other courtiers, who flaunted their beauty with calculated precision. There was a quiet restraint to her, a grace that hinted at something deeper beneath the surface.

Tonight, she moved with purpose, her eyes darting back toward the door as she stepped onto the balcony. She closed the curtains behind her, as if sealing herself off from the world beyond. That alone piqued Clavis’s interest. Who was she hiding from? A faint spark of curiosity ignited—a welcome distraction. For a moment, he allowed himself to focus on her, to let intrigue replace the weight in his chest.

She wasn’t smiling, but there was a hint of it in the soft curve of her peony-pink lips. A single flower tucked into her brown hair added a touch of whimsy to her otherwise composed appearance. Her green eyes, luminous in the moonlight, caught his attention most of all. They held a spark—a fire that wasn’t quite extinguished, even in her apparent discomfort.

He watched as she pressed herself against the wall, her eyes closing as she exhaled a long, steadying breath. For a moment, she seemed almost at peace. But Clavis couldn’t resist the urge to stir the waters. He crept up behind her, his steps silent, until he was close enough to see the gentle rise and fall of her chest with each breath.

Leaning in, he let his voice drop to a husky whisper. "Are we playing hide-and-seek?” he murmured against her ear, “or are you here for a more intimate rendezvous?"

The effect was immediate. She gasped, spinning to face him with wide, startled eyes. She stumbled backward, nearly losing her balance before catching herself against the railing. Clavis couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him. Her flustered reaction was exactly the kind of entertainment he’d been craving. "I apologize for startling you,” he said, keeping his tone light, the very picture of disarming politeness. “I was only teasing. Are you alright, young lady?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” she replied, smoothing the silky pink fabric of her skirt as though it could restore composure. There was a musical lilt to her voice, sweet and entirely feminine. “I was just hiding from…” She trailed off, her gaze squinting into the darkness, the dim light playing in his favor. “What I mean is I didn’t want someone to see me.” Her voice carried an edge of distrust. And how could he blame her? Trusting him would be a mistake.

He raised an eyebrow she couldn’t see. "May I ask who? I'll need a name if I’m to be a gentleman and defend your honor.”

Her lips parted, but she hesitated, pressing them together again. Unlike most nobles, who would have offered up a quick excuse or a polite lie, she seemed different—more honest or perhaps just more flustered.

She turned slightly, glancing toward the curtains, as if ensuring their privacy. “I’m hiding from that big creep, Jin.”

A low chuckle escaped Clavis's lips before he could stop himself. Her straightforwardness was refreshing. "You know he's a prince, right?" he teased, unable to resist.

"Just because he's a prince doesn't mean he isn't a huge creep!" she retorted, her defiance sparking in a way that caught him off guard.

As Clavis moved closer, he noticed the way her posture stiffened, tension visible in her shoulders. But she didn’t move away. Something about her boldness—her refusal to retreat—stirred his interest. Even the way her fingers trembled slightly as she tucked a loose curl behind her ear hinted at someone caught between fear and resolve.

"Be that as it may, he's still a prince." Clavis found himself stepping nearer without entirely understanding why. Perhaps it was her candor, her willingness to dismiss decorum and call things as she saw them. Whatever it was, it held him there.

Her expression softened as a smile curved her lips, brushing away the tension that had clung to her features. It was small but genuine, surprising in its ease. “Well, if the crown's crooked, I'll call it like I see it,” she said, her smile widening as she delivered the bold, humorous statement.

Another laugh escaped him, this one deeper, warmer. Her candidness was both unexpected and captivating. Most people at the palace were so consumed with appearances they measured their words carefully, terrified of who might overhear. But here she was, speaking about a prince with a daring edge, completely unaware of the risk—or the identity of the man she addressed.

"Unfortunately, there are laws against speaking about princes with that kind of language," he teased, his tone playful. His curiosity was piqued. What kind of reaction would this intriguing woman reveal next?

"I'm pretty sure 'creep' isn't on that list," she countered, eyebrows lifting in a challenge that dared him to argue.

"But...are you certain?" Clavis asked, his voice dipping into mock seriousness. A flicker of uncertainty crossed her face, her confidence wavering.

Their eyes met, his gaze sharp and searching. Her green eyes, faintly glowing in the half-light, were wide and expressive and seemed to reflect more than uncertainty—they held depth, a quiet intensity that drew him in. For a moment, he lingered, caught off guard by the faint spark of connection that passed between them, fleeting but undeniable. It left him with a feeling in his chest—a mix of trepidation and excitement.

"Well, no, but..." Her voice faltered as she peered into the shadows. Her smile was replaced by a look of wary apprehension. "Are you a guard? Are you going to report me? Or...hand me over to Prince Jin?"

“Now, that would be amusing," he replied with a low chuckle, its smooth tone rippling through the quiet night. "And if there's one thing I'm all about, it's finding every bit of amusement life has to offer."

Her posture shifted, tension radiating through her frame as she instinctively stepped back. The move was subtle, but he recognized it for what it was: preparation to flee. Acting on impulse, Clavis reached out, his fingers closing gently around her arm. His hold was firm yet unthreatening, enough to stop her without startling her further. Even through his gloves, he felt the warmth of her skin, and how she froze at his touch, her breath catching. He didn’t know why, but he wasn’t ready for her to leave yet. He wanted to continue their little game just for a few more moments.

As he stepped into the faint light of the moon, he watched her reaction closely. Her free hand flew to her mouth, her eyes widening as the moonlight illuminated the royal crest on his uniform—a subtle yet unmistakable symbol of his status. Clavis had seen this moment play out countless times before, yet there was something particularly satisfying about the way her expression shifted. Shock, recognition, and something else—something closer to awe—flashed across her features.

But it wasn’t just her reaction that caught his attention. A barely perceptible shiver ran through her, and the way she stared up at him, caught between fascination and disbelief, only deepened his curiosity.

With a smirk, Clavis released her arm. "Third Prince, Clavis Lelouch, at your service. The most charming of all the princes," he announced with a dramatic bow, his voice dripping with waggish arrogance.

Her response was exactly what he’d expected—and yet somehow more. "You're...a prince?" she stammered, the flush in her cheeks deepening as she struggled to steady herself under his gaze. It was almost endearing, watching her attempt to recover her composure even as she unraveled in his presence.

"I...I didn't mean to offend...I mean, I didn't know..." she continued, her words tumbling out faster, her wide eyes betraying her vulnerability. Despite her obvious discomfort, she didn’t retreat. Something seemed to hold her there.

Clavis waved off her concerns with an impish grin. "Oh, don't fret, dearie," he said lightly. "You've added quite a delightful twist to my evening. It's not every day one encounters such refreshingly candid commentary on royalty."

She blinked, her expression wavering between confusion and relief. "You mean...you're not going to report me or hand me over to Prince Jin?" she asked hesitantly.

Clavis chuckled. "Report you? Hand you over to Jin? What would be the fun of that?" He stepped closer, his grin growing as her uncertainty deepened. "No, I'd much prefer to keep this enchanting encounter our little secret." He placed a gloved finger seductively over his lips. “Wouldn’t you?”

Her eyes flicked briefly to his lips, the subtle shift betraying her thoughts. A faint blush crept onto her cheeks as she bit her lower lip, a failed attempt to mask her reaction. Watching her wrestle with her emotions was its own quiet thrill—the hesitant glances, the nervous fidgeting of her fingers, and the slight tremor in her voice. She was inexperienced in this kind of game, and that made it all the more entertaining.

He leaned casually against the railing, signaling her to relax with an air of confidence he knew was hard to resist. Tilting his head slightly, he asked, "So, tell me, what exactly did Jin do to earn the title of 'creep' from you?"

He saw her hesitate, the sudden self-consciousness in her gaze as she looked toward the garden below. The moonlight caught the soft lines of her profile, highlighting her internal struggle as she collected herself. “He’s just…he makes me feel uncomfortable. I try to avoid him whenever I can," she admitted, her voice soft, almost as if confiding in the night itself.

"I see." Clavis’ expression shifted, his teasing tone replaced with a hint of thoughtfulness. “And it would appear you have a talent for discovering intriguing hiding spots. Perhaps you might consider inviting me to join your little escapade next time." His words came with a flirtatious lilt, his gaze intent as he reached out, curling his fingers gently around hers.

As he drew her closer, the warmth of her hand in his own surprised him, as did the tension in her body. Her breath hitched, her proximity filling the air between them with a delicate, intoxicating sweetness. A faint scent of summer peaches entwined with the elegance of magnolias and a whisper of white tea—a fragrance that suited her perfectly. He pushed the thought aside, his focus returning to the flicker of emotion in her eyes.

Her hand was small and delicate, yet there was a quiet strength in the way she held onto him, as if anchoring herself. Her pulse quickened beneath his touch, and her breath became uneven. In her eyes, he caught a flicker of tension—or perhaps something deeper—though it eluded him. He didn’t need to guess at her thoughts to recognize temptation battling with reason. He had seen it countless times before.

"I...I don't think that's a good idea," she stammered, her cheeks flushing with a fiery blush.

Clavis smirked, unable to suppress his amusement. She was right, of course. Proprietary dictated it. But propriety had never interested him. There was something about her—a refreshing departure from the typical noblewomen at court—that stirred his curiosity. It made him eager to test boundaries, to see just how far she would let him go before retreating.

He raised an eyebrow, savoring her flustered state. "Oh? And why not?" he pressed, his tone teasing, but laced with enough allure to keep her on edge.

"Because...because you're a prince, and I'm just...me," she replied, her voice wavering as she grasped for an explanation.

Despite himself, his smile softened. For a fleeting moment, he felt the urge to reassure her. "Titles are just fancy hats, 'Just-Me,'” he quipped, his tone light but underscored with sincerity. “It's the head and heart beneath that count.”

Cassandra’s lips curved into a smile, tickled by his silly words—a smile that lit up her face in a way that caught him off guard. There was something almost enchanting in her response, a warmth that felt rare in his world of false faces and veiled intentions and irritated brothers and court ministers. It stirred something unfamiliar in him, a faint fleeting sense of ease.

"Thank you, Prince Clavis," she said softly, her bright green eyes glowing as they met his. Her voice held a dreamy quality, as if she were reluctant to break the spell. "I should probably go now."

"As you wish." Clavis straightened. "But before you depart, it seems you neglected to give me your name."

He noticed the blush returning to her cheeks, a telltale sign of her flustered state. He found it endearing—rarely did anyone seem so unguarded around him.

"Cassandra Bellerose,” she answered, her voice soft, her words carrying a gentle, melodic rhythm.

Clavis’s smile deepened as he repeated her name, tasting its elegance. “Ah, Shining Beautiful Rose. How befitting.” His words, polished and smooth, carried the princely charm he wielded with ease. He lowered his gaze to their joined hands, pressing a deliberate, lingering kiss there—long enough to send a shiver down her spine.

As he raised his eyes, he held her gaze, deliberate in his intensity. The subtle shift in her expression—the way her composure wavered—only encourages him to let the moment stretch, savoring the quiet thrill of her reaction. It was a game, after all, one he always played to win.

She curtsied gracefully, her movements almost dreamlike, her lingering blush revealing the effect of their exchange. When he released her hand, a faint tingle remained in his fingers, unsettling him more than he cared to admit.

Still, his smile stayed firmly in place. “Until we meet again, Lady Cassandra, and we most assuredly shall,” he murmured, his voice low, as if sharing a secret meant only for her.

Clavis stepped back, pulling the curtains aside, his eyes never leaving her as she slipped through the doorway. The soft whisper of silk brushed against him as she moved, but what lingered longer was her scent—a blend of sweetness and florals—that teased his senses before fading.

As the sound of her footsteps receded into the distance, Clavis lingered on the balcony, the cool night air brushing against his skin. Cassandra remained in his thoughts. She was different, her reactions unlike those he usually elicited. Her vulnerability felt raw, genuine—unfiltered by the polished pretense of nobles. There was an innocence to her, but beneath it, something simmered—a mystery that he found both irresistible and dangerous to unravel.

Yet, even as these thoughts crossed his mind, a familiar resolve tightened in his chest. Intrigue was a double-edged sword, a weapon that cut too deeply if handled carelessly. Clavis knew this better than most. People always crumbled when subjected to his tests—designed to expose the flaws they hid, the selfishness they denied, and, most importantly, the truth that their affection for him was never real.

It was a game he had mastered, one in which he always emerged unscathed—if not entirely untouched. And despite the part of him that dared to hope, he knew better than to indulge in foolishness. Experience had taught him not to indulge in such delusions, not to let his heart get ensnared in emotions that only ever led to disappointment.

No matter how captivating or genuine this Cassandra Bellarose seemed tonight, she would fail. They always did. And when that moment came, he would walk away, as he always had, with nothing more than a faint regret and the satisfaction of knowing he had proven his beliefs correct and protected himself from the pain of attachment.

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