Lads Angst - Blog Posts

Reposting this piece after some edits!! :)

Also debating working on a piece where non cannon MC becomes friends with Mephisto and subsequently Sylus himself👀

I was possessed to write this Rafayel Siren piece yesterday so now i’m gently sliding it across your dash :)

Sort of proof read? this is my first time writing anything for LADS so be kind plz

TW: super mega angsty!! drowning, mentions of suicide, rafayel being messy as always, MC does not recognize him yet again, damn. Gender neutral pronouns used

The voice was soft, a crooning hum that beckoned to them as they searched for the source.

The ship creaked under their feet, groans of warning going ignored as they checked the empty barrels and scanned the lifeboats. The wind had the ship leaning away from them, it brushed against their nightdress as if to say cut your losses and come back in, it’s cold and you are alone here.

They had long forgotten how to give in, fighting the wind and the ship to keep searching for the source of the haunting song.

It was growing louder now as they scanned the ship, catching a flash of movement in the water out of the corner of their eye.

Spinning towards it, they peered out at the ocean and the humming stopped. The beautiful voice had gone and they found themselves sick in its absence.

They held their breath, waiting in silence, scanning the ocean apprehensively.

After a few minutes, right when they were about to give up, it- he emerged from the depths.

There, about 50 feet in front of the ship, was a siren. It was a monster from forgotten folklore that was staring back at them, unblinking.

The creature tilted its head then, picking up his song again as he seemed to size up the human that squinted down at him.

The song was beautiful, better than anything that had been played by the ship’s crew on drunken nights, better than the records that man would play in his house when they visited him, always accompanied by touches against their will. They had never felt such peace from music, stepping towards the side of the bow to hear it clearer.

They stuttered a gasp as he swam closer, afraid to spook him away, barely breathing as he approached the ship. They could hear him clearer now, a lilting tune in a foreign language that seeped through their bones and tugged on their dress, pulling them closer to the edge of the boat.

Sharp nails scraped against the wood of the ship as he touched it, a small knowing smirk gracing his features at the human’s dazed expression.

His eyes were glowing, blue and purple swirling as he held their glance. His song was so calming, his chest vibrating with the effort as he studied them.

A harsh voice cut through his tune, breaking them free from his trance.

They hadn’t realized they were leaning so far towards him until he was cut off, hands moving to catch themself on the railing and take a step back as the gruff voice prattled on from behind them in the galley.

The ship’s chef, an old, overworked, bitter man, was complaining about a lack of etiquette again as he prepped for the next morning’s rations.

They knew he wouldn’t be any danger to them, but the siren was thrown off, looking for the source of the sound with an ill-concealed scowl. Something huge broke the water behind him, a fin slicing through the water.

His tail whipped behind him, sharp edges and points flashing out of the water as he muttered in annoyance at being interrupted.

Where there once would have been dread and fear, a sickly hope seemed to arise in them. Was this their chance at an out? Had the gods listened to their prayers and offered him as their escape? Steeling their nerves, they drew a breath before softly calling to him.

“You have a beautiful voice.” They glanced around to check for prying eyes before whispering to the man. “Are you here to kill me?”

He pondered this for a second, before he responded in an equally gentle tone. “I am.”

They nodded, as if expecting this. “Ah, alright. If I promise not to fight, can you promise it won’t be violent?”

“What?”

“I said, I am willing to come down if you can promise me it will not be too painful.”

Confusion crossed his face.

“You’re willing to drown?”

“If I know it’s kind, gentle in-“ they gestured towards him “-In whatever way you are capable, I am. I am trapped here, I’ll die of worse means if I don’t drown by yours.”

He looked away to contemplate her words, before looking back with a serious expression, his tone heavy.

“If you come into the water, I will eat you.”

“Could you wait to eat my body until after I’ve drowned? That would be kindness.”

He paused at that, seemingly considering their words before a frown crossed his face and he scowled up at them.

“This is a trap isn’t it? You’re bargaining for promises to turn them on me. I’ve lost my friends to ships like this. I will not fall for it again.” He opened his mouth to sing again before they wildly gestured at him to stop.

He froze, opening and closing his mouth in shock before deciding to close it, giving them an insulted pout.

They thanked him breathlessly, pleading with the agitated siren below them.

“I swear I mean you no harm. What can i say to make you trust me? I promise I do want to die.”

The siren picked at something under his long nails as he spoke.

“Why not kill yourself? Why are you offering your death to me? I can take it without the promise, or I could agree and change my mind. I am not of the mind to agree on a humans whim.” He huffed. “If you want kindness, why ask me? I know the tales you are taught, sirens are not known to be gentle.”

Running their hands through their hair, they mumbled

“Because I am a coward.”

He did not comment, turning to watch them speak with an unreadable expression.

“I’ve tried, I can’t do it.”

They glanced towards the bridge of the ship with a sigh before focusing on the siren.

“The men in there, they’re planning to sell me. In 3 days they will trade me to a man who can offer them fine things. They believe me a woman, that I’m fit to be his wife. He is a horrid person. I have known the pain of his hands and I will die before I know it again. Besides, why not trust someone who is practiced in killing? Do you not enjoy it?”

For a brief moment, barely a second, the siren looked sad. Almost wounded at their words. Then, he spoke.

“I do.”

“Alright, If you can swear you will be as gentle as you can, I will give you my death, my soul, and a meal. All I have ever been is a tool for those around me, I just want to go out of my own choice. I truly to die, I’m begging you.”

The voices of more men cut through his silence, panic rushing through them at the thought of getting caught outside again. The crew was stirring, they’d find them missing from their bedchamber at any moment and all hell would break loose.

“Please, promise me what you can and I’ll come into the water.”

He pushed. “Why don’t you ask me to drown them in your stead? Why don’t you beg to be spared?”

“I have no right to offer any lives but my own.”

His tail thrashed in the water. Something about the weight of their words, the honesty in their tone irritated him.

The men aboard this ship would fight him, would have traded this persons life for their own in a heartbeat.

He had drowned hundreds of them, he knew how they’d lie and cheat to escape death. He glared at the ship, the carvings of sirens in the wood mocking him with twisted grins.

“I’ll drown them anyways. I will have no kindness left to let them leave.”

They smiled, an almost imperceptible lift of her lips as they nodded at his words. The wind howled and whipped the side of their face, pulling at their clothes as though trying to keep them aboard. They leaned farther over the railings, desperate to hold the creatures eyes.

“Well? Can you promise?”

“Rafayel.” He offered his name before he could think, they blinked at him as it registered on their tongue. He was trusting them with his name.

He was going to agree.

“Do you promise me, Rafayel?”

“I promise you, y/n. Climb down and I’ll drown you, I will wait to eat you until you are gone. You have my word.”

At the sound of their name from his lips, they paused.

“Wait- how did you learn my name? I don’t remember sharing it.”

He ignored their question.

“Come into the water y/n. I am not patient by nature, I will not wait.”

The finality in his voice had them moving. Maybe some things were better left unknown.

Kicking off their shoes and pulling out their hair tie they swung one leg over the side of the ship and then the other, using the gnarled wood and barnacles as footholds as they lowered themself down towards the sea, towards the siren below.

The voices of crew mates grew louder, the ships lanterns lighting again as the crew awakened above them.

As the water grew closer, they felt a large cold hand reach for theirs. They took it, moving carefully as he guided them down into the waves.

As soon as they were safely off the ship, he dropped their hand and grumbled something, his ears slightly reddening.

Now that they were face to face, he was struck by how long it had been since he’d last seen them.

He stayed just out of reach, a long forgotten feeling of apprehension and sorrow settling a lump in his throat. He swallowed it down. This was for the better.

He hoped they would be true to their pretty words. He knew he wouldn’t be able to refuse if they changed their mind.

They stared back, a nervous noise escaping them at how cold the ocean was. He sighed.

“Take a breath, y/n.”

They obeyed, inhaling and squeezing their eyes shut tightly before he reached for them again, pulling them into the depths.

As he weaved downwards, he shifted to cradle their body in his large form, swimming away with his prize.

They did not fight, exactly as they had promised. He had half expected them to change their mind, to struggle and kick him but they were as docile as a lamb, a catch worth the small weight of a promise.

Despite this, under his hands he could feel their struggle, the life in them still fighting its last fight. A heart much faster than his own underneath his hands. He reveled in the knowledge that he would be the one to take it from them, that their death would be his and his alone. Final.

The water was heavy, they noted as it seeped into the cracks of their eyelids, in their ears and through the corners of their mouth.

True to his word, his hands were gentle, sharp nails barely pricking their skin as he held them to his body.

The gills on his neck and chest barely scraped them, they could hardly sense the bloodlust that he harbored.

This was kindness, this was what they had wanted.

Tears pricked their vision at the strain of it all before dissipating into the surrounding water.

Their lungs burned, struggling to filter through the stagnant air that remained in their blood.

They would have to take a breath soon, and it would be over. They had heard it was painless once you gave in. That it felt soothing, cold water rushing in to sooth the aches of a last ditch effort to survive.

They hoped it was peaceful, that death would cradle them as softly as Rafayel did.

After a minute he stopped swimming, now gently swaying under the tides pull as he held their body to his chest.

Using the last bits of their energy, they moved to hold his hand, clutching his webbed fingers between their own as they opened their eyes.

His eyebrows rose but he made no move to stop them, holding their hand just as firmly. It was soft in his palm, the warmth slowly draining from them. He supposed this was part of his duties, that he could offer them this as part of the kindness he had agreed to.

The ocean water stung as they stiffened in shock at the view before them. Corals swayed, fish trailing through the sea bed as the light from the surface danced on the floor below them.

It was beautiful, far from the murky depths they had anticipated. The colors were soft, dulled by the depths and motion, a final gorgeous painting to view.

Turning to look at him, they moved to smile before their mouth opened of its own accord, a strangled gasp leaving them as the ocean ran in to claim them.

He held their hand tighter now, using his other to softly cradle their face.

He hadn’t been kind in years, yet it felt like a second nature to comfort them, using the pads of his thumbs to stroke their cheek, a soft hum from his chest weaving its way through to soothe them.

Rafayel had not used his voice like this in years, beckoning souls to a violent end for so long he had forgotten the care he was once capable of.

Their grip on him loosened, their eyes glassing over as they relaxed into his hold. This was it, lifetimes of avoiding his duty for them, for the sake of their love, and now he had finally fulfilled his service to the sea. Pearls floated around them, a part of him breaking at how small they were, just another empty shell now for him to make something of.

As if a forgotten power was awaking, the tides seemed to pull him, beckoning him to finish the sacrifice he had denied so many centuries ago.

A long forgotten power was waking up at the heart of the ocean.

The mark on his chest had already begun to fade.

I was possessed to write this Rafayel Siren piece yesterday so now i’m gently sliding it across your dash :)

Sort of proof read? this is my first time writing anything for LADS so be kind plz

TW: super mega angsty!! drowning, mentions of suicide, rafayel being messy as always, MC does not recognize him yet again, damn. Gender neutral pronouns used

The voice was soft, a crooning hum that beckoned to them as they searched for the source.

The ship creaked under their feet, groans of warning going ignored as they checked the empty barrels and scanned the lifeboats. The wind had the ship leaning away from them, it brushed against their nightdress as if to say cut your losses and come back in, it’s cold and you are alone here.

They had long forgotten how to give in, fighting the wind and the ship to keep searching for the source of the haunting song.

It was growing louder now as they scanned the ship, catching a flash of movement in the water out of the corner of their eye.

Spinning towards it, they peered out at the ocean and the humming stopped. The beautiful voice had gone and they found themselves sick in its absence.

They held their breath, waiting in silence, scanning the ocean apprehensively.

After a few minutes, right when they were about to give up, it- he emerged from the depths.

There, about 50 feet in front of the ship, was a siren. It was a monster from forgotten folklore that was staring back at them, unblinking.

The creature tilted its head then, picking up his song again as he seemed to size up the human that squinted down at him.

The song was beautiful, better than anything that had been played by the ship’s crew on drunken nights, better than the records that man would play in his house when they visited him, always accompanied by touches against their will. They had never felt such peace from music, stepping towards the side of the bow to hear it clearer.

They stuttered a gasp as he swam closer, afraid to spook him away, barely breathing as he approached the ship. They could hear him clearer now, a lilting tune in a foreign language that seeped through their bones and tugged on their dress, pulling them closer to the edge of the boat.

Sharp nails scraped against the wood of the ship as he touched it, a small knowing smirk gracing his features at the human’s dazed expression.

His eyes were glowing, blue and purple swirling as he held their glance. His song was so calming, his chest vibrating with the effort as he studied them.

A harsh voice cut through his tune, breaking them free from his trance.

They hadn’t realized they were leaning so far towards him until he was cut off, hands moving to catch themself on the railing and take a step back as the gruff voice prattled on from behind them in the galley.

The ship’s chef, an old, overworked, bitter man, was complaining about a lack of etiquette again as he prepped for the next morning’s rations.

They knew he wouldn’t be any danger to them, but the siren was thrown off, looking for the source of the sound with an ill-concealed scowl. Something huge broke the water behind him, a fin slicing through the water.

His tail whipped behind him, sharp edges and points flashing out of the water as he muttered in annoyance at being interrupted.

Where there once would have been dread and fear, a sickly hope seemed to arise in them. Was this their chance at an out? Had the gods listened to their prayers and offered him as their escape? Steeling their nerves, they drew a breath before softly calling to him.

“You have a beautiful voice.” They glanced around to check for prying eyes before whispering to the man. “Are you here to kill me?”

He pondered this for a second, before he responded in an equally gentle tone. “I am.”

They nodded, as if expecting this. “Ah, alright. If I promise not to fight, can you promise it won’t be violent?”

“What?”

“I said, I am willing to come down if you can promise me it will not be too painful.”

Confusion crossed his face.

“You’re willing to drown?”

“If I know it’s kind, gentle in-“ they gestured towards him “-In whatever way you are capable, I am. I am trapped here, I’ll die of worse means if I don’t drown by yours.”

He looked away to contemplate her words, before looking back with a serious expression, his tone heavy.

“If you come into the water, I will eat you.”

“Could you wait to eat my body until after I’ve drowned? That would be kindness.”

He paused at that, seemingly considering their words before a frown crossed his face and he scowled up at them.

“This is a trap isn’t it? You’re bargaining for promises to turn them on me. I’ve lost my friends to ships like this. I will not fall for it again.” He opened his mouth to sing again before they wildly gestured at him to stop.

He froze, opening and closing his mouth in shock before deciding to close it, giving them an insulted pout.

They thanked him breathlessly, pleading with the agitated siren below them.

“I swear I mean you no harm. What can i say to make you trust me? I promise I do want to die.”

The siren picked at something under his long nails as he spoke.

“Why not kill yourself? Why are you offering your death to me? I can take it without the promise, or I could agree and change my mind. I am not of the mind to agree on a humans whim.” He huffed. “If you want kindness, why ask me? I know the tales you are taught, sirens are not known to be gentle.”

Running their hands through their hair, they mumbled

“Because I am a coward.”

He did not comment, turning to watch them speak with an unreadable expression.

“I’ve tried, I can’t do it.”

They glanced towards the bridge of the ship with a sigh before focusing on the siren.

“The men in there, they’re planning to sell me. In 3 days they will trade me to a man who can offer them fine things. They believe me a woman, that I’m fit to be his wife. He is a horrid person. I have known the pain of his hands and I will die before I know it again. Besides, why not trust someone who is practiced in killing? Do you not enjoy it?”

For a brief moment, barely a second, the siren looked sad. Almost wounded at their words. Then, he spoke.

“I do.”

“Alright, If you can swear you will be as gentle as you can, I will give you my death, my soul, and a meal. All I have ever been is a tool for those around me, I just want to go out of my own choice. I truly to die, I’m begging you.”

The voices of more men cut through his silence, panic rushing through them at the thought of getting caught outside again. The crew was stirring, they’d find them missing from their bedchamber at any moment and all hell would break loose.

“Please, promise me what you can and I’ll come into the water.”

He pushed. “Why don’t you ask me to drown them in your stead? Why don’t you beg to be spared?”

“I have no right to offer any lives but my own.”

His tail thrashed in the water. Something about the weight of their words, the honesty in their tone irritated him.

The men aboard this ship would fight him, would have traded this persons life for their own in a heartbeat.

He had drowned hundreds of them, he knew how they’d lie and cheat to escape death. He glared at the ship, the carvings of sirens in the wood mocking him with twisted grins.

“I’ll drown them anyways. I will have no kindness left to let them leave.”

They smiled, an almost imperceptible lift of her lips as they nodded at his words. The wind howled and whipped the side of their face, pulling at their clothes as though trying to keep them aboard. They leaned farther over the railings, desperate to hold the creatures eyes.

“Well? Can you promise?”

“Rafayel.” He offered his name before he could think, they blinked at him as it registered on their tongue. He was trusting them with his name.

He was going to agree.

“Do you promise me, Rafayel?”

“I promise you, y/n. Climb down and I’ll drown you, I will wait to eat you until you are gone. You have my word.”

At the sound of their name from his lips, they paused.

“Wait- how did you learn my name? I don’t remember sharing it.”

He ignored their question.

“Come into the water y/n. I am not patient by nature, I will not wait.”

The finality in his voice had them moving. Maybe some things were better left unknown.

Kicking off their shoes and pulling out their hair tie they swung one leg over the side of the ship and then the other, using the gnarled wood and barnacles as footholds as they lowered themself down towards the sea, towards the siren below.

The voices of crew mates grew louder, the ships lanterns lighting again as the crew awakened above them.

As the water grew closer, they felt a large cold hand reach for theirs. They took it, moving carefully as he guided them down into the waves.

As soon as they were safely off the ship, he dropped their hand and grumbled something, his ears slightly reddening.

Now that they were face to face, he was struck by how long it had been since he’d last seen them.

He stayed just out of reach, a long forgotten feeling of apprehension and sorrow settling a lump in his throat. He swallowed it down. This was for the better.

He hoped they would be true to their pretty words. He knew he wouldn’t be able to refuse if they changed their mind.

They stared back, a nervous noise escaping them at how cold the ocean was. He sighed.

“Take a breath, y/n.”

They obeyed, inhaling and squeezing their eyes shut tightly before he reached for them again, pulling them into the depths.

As he weaved downwards, he shifted to cradle their body in his large form, swimming away with his prize.

They did not fight, exactly as they had promised. He had half expected them to change their mind, to struggle and kick him but they were as docile as a lamb, a catch worth the small weight of a promise.

Despite this, under his hands he could feel their struggle, the life in them still fighting its last fight. A heart much faster than his own underneath his hands. He reveled in the knowledge that he would be the one to take it from them, that their death would be his and his alone. Final.

The water was heavy, they noted as it seeped into the cracks of their eyelids, in their ears and through the corners of their mouth.

True to his word, his hands were gentle, sharp nails barely pricking their skin as he held them to his body.

The gills on his neck and chest barely scraped them, they could hardly sense the bloodlust that he harbored.

This was kindness, this was what they had wanted.

Tears pricked their vision at the strain of it all before dissipating into the surrounding water.

Their lungs burned, struggling to filter through the stagnant air that remained in their blood.

They would have to take a breath soon, and it would be over. They had heard it was painless once you gave in. That it felt soothing, cold water rushing in to sooth the aches of a last ditch effort to survive.

They hoped it was peaceful, that death would cradle them as softly as Rafayel did.

After a minute he stopped swimming, now gently swaying under the tides pull as he held their body to his chest.

Using the last bits of their energy, they moved to hold his hand, clutching his webbed fingers between their own as they opened their eyes.

His eyebrows rose but he made no move to stop them, holding their hand just as firmly. It was soft in his palm, the warmth slowly draining from them. He supposed this was part of his duties, that he could offer them this as part of the kindness he had agreed to.

The ocean water stung as they stiffened in shock at the view before them. Corals swayed, fish trailing through the sea bed as the light from the surface danced on the floor below them.

It was beautiful, far from the murky depths they had anticipated. The colors were soft, dulled by the depths and motion, a final gorgeous painting to view.

Turning to look at him, they moved to smile before their mouth opened of its own accord, a strangled gasp leaving them as the ocean ran in to claim them.

He held their hand tighter now, using his other to softly cradle their face.

He hadn’t been kind in years, yet it felt like a second nature to comfort them, using the pads of his thumbs to stroke their cheek, a soft hum from his chest weaving its way through to soothe them.

Rafayel had not used his voice like this in years, beckoning souls to a violent end for so long he had forgotten the care he was once capable of.

Their grip on him loosened, their eyes glassing over as they relaxed into his hold. This was it, lifetimes of avoiding his duty for them, for the sake of their love, and now he had finally fulfilled his service to the sea. Pearls floated around them, a part of him breaking at how small they were, just another empty shell now for him to make something of.

As if a forgotten power was awaking, the tides seemed to pull him, beckoning him to finish the sacrifice he had denied so many centuries ago.

A long forgotten power was waking up at the heart of the ocean.

The mark on his chest had already begun to fade.

just fell to my knees

hello! good day to youuu, can i make a request for the lads men? in which reader is not the mc and here's the prompt: having to beg them to do something with you then seeing them doing it with mc willingly, sorry english is not my first language but pleaaaseeee 😭 i love some angst.

Bitter

PAIRING: Love and Deepspace men x non-mc!reader

SYNOPSIS: Watching the one you love partake in what you once pleaded to share—a quiet betrayal—feels like an arrow through the heart, swift and merciless. (angst, no comfort)

A/N: Thank you for the request, it came out more as a drabble. Hope you enjoy!

Xavier

What a bitter, gutting thing it was—to stand in the shadows and watch him shine for someone else. To see the light in his eyes, the easy laughter, the quiet devotion as he did for her what he had never done for you.

The one thing you once begged for. The one thing he had denied you.

But not her. Never her.

She was fate’s beloved, the one woven from the same celestial thread as him, bound to him in ways you never could be. You had always told yourself to be rational, to be understanding. Xavier came with a past. He came with baggage.

And inside that baggage, nestled close to his heart, was her.

The woman you would envy until the world turned to dust.

And yet—how could you ever bring yourself to hate her? When she was made of kindness, of soft edges and warm light? When she looked at you with nothing but affection, oblivious to the ruin she left in her wake? She was an angel. A blessing. A curse.

And fate, it seemed, had always been on her side.

So there they were, walking side by side, woven together so seamlessly it was almost poetic. Almost cruel. Her bags in his hands, the weight of them carried so effortlessly—as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

And yet, when you had asked for the same—just a simple day together, just a moment of his time—he had sighed, shaken his head, told you he was too tired. That work was too much. That he simply couldn’t.

But now, watching him with her, you couldn’t help but wonder—did she take his exhaustion away? Did her presence breathe new life into him in a way you never could?

The answer settled deep in your bones, cold and unrelenting.

Your friend beside you said nothing, only looking at you with that quiet, suffocating pity that made your stomach turn. Because there was nothing to say. Nothing to soften the truth you had known all along.

You were not his first thought in the morning. You were not the name on his lips when he passed a garden of wildflowers. You were not the presence lingering in his mind when the world grew quiet.

And you never would be.

You had spent so long fighting against it. Xavier loves me. He chose me. The words had been your lifeline, a fragile, trembling thing you whispered into the silence. But even your friends never seemed convinced.

And now, neither were you.

So you did the only thing you knew how to do.

You turned away.

No confrontation. No desperate pleas for an explanation that would only come laced with half-truths and empty reassurances. What good was honesty when it had never been yours to begin with?

When he came home that night, his lips still curved with the ghost of a smile, he found an emptiness he had never felt before. Your things, your presence—gone, as if you had never been there at all.

And in your place, only a single note remained.

"I hope you find whatever it is you're looking for. Because clearly, it was never me."

And Xavier, poor Xavier, would stand there, reading those words over and over, grasping at the fraying edges of something he had never truly held onto.

But then again—

Xavier had never noticed his wrongdoings.

Not until there was nothing left but the weight of his own ruin.

Zayne

Zayne—or Dr. Zayne, as she called him—had always been a good man. A gentleman in every sense. Caring, affectionate, endlessly considerate.

But never for you.

His tenderness felt practiced, his affections routine. As if he wasn’t loving you, but fulfilling some unspoken obligation. A kindness given not out of devotion, but out of mere habit.

And you had tried to ignore it. Swallowed your doubts, convinced yourself you were overthinking.

Until you saw them together.

Her.

The one fate had tied him to. The one who never had to ask for his attention, because it had always belonged to her.

Her laughter lit up rooms before she even stepped inside. Her eyes gleamed like sunlight catching on water—brilliant, hypnotic, impossible to look away from. And neither could he.

And then, there was the picture.

A simple post, one she likely uploaded without a second thought, oblivious to the quiet devastation it would bring.

There she was, sitting in his office. Smiling. At ease.

Sharing lunch with him.

Something you had never been allowed to do.

You had asked once—just to drop by, to see him, to spend even a sliver of time together in the place he spent most of his days. But he had refused, brushing you off with a gentle but firm, “I don’t want distractions.”

And yet, there she was, sitting across from him, urging him to eat the food she had made, as if she had every right to be there. And maybe she did.

They had known each other forever. That was what you told yourself—Of course, they’re close. Of course, they understand each other in ways I never will. You had tried to accept it. To be understanding.

But then you saw the way he looked at her in the picture.

The softness in his eyes. The quiet, unguarded devotion.

Like she was the only one who could unravel him, the only one who could slip past his carefully built walls.

You had spent so long trying to do the same, but you never even made a crack.

And so, that was the moment you made a promise to yourself.

You would not be someone’s second choice. You would not collect the scraps of his affection while she—effortless, radiant, destined—was given everything you had ever wanted.

And Zayne noticed.

He noticed in the silence. In the missed calls that went unanswered, the messages left on read. In the bouquets left wilting at your doorstep, the petals curling at the edges.

Roses.

Her favorite flowers.

Not yours.

And that was all the confirmation you needed.

Zayne was never the gentleman you thought he was.

Or perhaps, he was. Just never for you.

Or maybe—maybe it was fate itself that was cruel.

Rafayel

Something inside you cracked, splintering like fragile seashells beneath careless hands—shattered beyond repair, beyond mending.

It wasn’t a sudden break. No, it had been slow, creeping in like the tide, eroding the edges of your love bit by bit, pulling pieces of you away before you could even notice you were unraveling.

And now, the final wave had come, and it had taken everything with it.

Because there he was—your Rafayel—kneeling beside her, smiling in a way you had longed to be the cause of.

The sight alone stole the breath from your lungs.

You had spent so long pretending not to notice. Ignoring the way his gaze always sought her out, the way his voice softened just a fraction when he spoke to her. You had swallowed the ache, told yourself it didn’t matter.

"That’s just the way he is," you had whispered, time and time again.

But it had never been the way he was.

It had only ever been the way he was with you.

And now, you knew why.

Rafayel hated cats.

You remembered the way his nose had scrunched when you had once tried to feed a stray by the docks, the way he had flicked his fingers as if to ward the creature away. “Little beasts,” he had muttered, half-amused, half-disgusted. “I don’t understand how you humans tolerate them.”

You had laughed then, nudging him playfully. “You’re just jealous they’re cuter than you.”

And yet—here he was.

Crouched beside her, cradling a trembling kitten in careful, delicate hands, his expression softer than you had ever seen it. His touch—usually teasing, fleeting, always just out of reach—was steady, warm, tender.

For her.

Not for you.

Something cold curled around your ribs, sinking deep, making it harder to breathe.

It was never about the kitten.

It was never about the things he couldn’t do.

It was about the things he never wanted to do for you.

And watching him now, so unguarded, so effortlessly kind, made you wish you had never met him at all.

Rage and sorrow burned through your veins, curling beneath your skin like a sickness. You wanted to rip that stupidly charming smile from his face, wanted to demand why he had never looked at you like that.

But there was no point.

So you turned and walked away.

Ignoring reality, just as you had once tried to ignore fate.

But fate never ignored you.

And something in the air told you—Rafayel wouldn’t either.

Sylus

Sylus had never been an easy man to love.

Sharp edges, cold precision—every move calculated, every word spoken with intent. He was not a man swayed by sentiment, nor was he one to entertain trivial affections.

You had known this from the start.

And yet, knowing had never stopped you from wanting.

So you learned to take what little he gave you—stolen moments in the dead of night, whispered conversations where he let the ice thaw just enough for you to believe there was something beneath it. But always, always, he kept his distance, his affections measured, restrained.

"This is who I am," he had told you once, when you asked why he never let himself soften. "I don’t have the luxury of being gentle."

You had believed him.

Until now.

Until you saw him, standing there in the dim glow of a high-rise restaurant, his head tilted ever so slightly toward her. The woman fate had written into his story, the one whose presence seemed to unravel him in ways you never could.

His fated one.

And in front of them, two untouched glasses of wine.

Wine.

The very thing he had refused to share with you.

"I don’t drink with others," he had said once, his voice clipped, final. "It's a pleasure reserved for my time alone."

But now, here he was. Sharing a glass with her. His fingers resting idly against the stem of his glass, his expression unreadable yet undeniably present. He was here. Fully. With her.

A man who never entertained distractions, utterly enthralled.

The way he looked at her—it was something different. Something you had never been granted. There was no calculation in his gaze, no careful restraint. No cold, distant amusement.

Just quiet acceptance. As if she had been meant to sit beside him all along.

And that was when you knew.

You could tear yourself apart, try to become everything he had ever wanted, and it still wouldn’t matter. Because fate had already made the choice for him.

And it wasn’t you.

Still, you lingered a moment longer, letting the pain settle, letting it carve its lesson deep into your ribs.

And then, without a word, you turned and left.

Because you, too, could learn to be cold.

Caleb

Caleb had always been warm. That was the problem.

He had a way of making you believe you belonged there—tucked into his arms, held close by quiet promises and easy smiles. He made you think you mattered.

But there was always her.

His childhood best friend.

Not bound by fate, not chosen by some cosmic force—just there. Always. In every story he told, in every old memory that made his eyes soften with something you could never quite reach. The one who had been with him before you, the one who had held his hand through storms you’d never even known existed.

And you told yourself it wasn’t a competition.

Until the night you saw them.

The neon lights of the karaoke bar cast the whole street in a soft glow, music and laughter spilling from inside as you walked past—until something, someone, made your steps falter.

Through the open doors, past the booths and glowing screens, you saw him.

Caleb.

Standing there, microphone in hand, singing.

With her.

The sight knocked the breath from your lungs.

"I don’t like singing in front of people," he had told you once, shaking his head with a sheepish smile when you begged him to join you for just one song. "It’s embarrassing. I just—I can’t, okay?"

But now, here he was.

Swaying slightly, smiling as their voices blended together in a song you didn’t recognize. It wasn’t perfect—his voice cracked in places, he missed a beat or two—but that didn’t matter. Because he was trying. Because he was enjoying it.

Because she made him feel safe enough to do what he had never done for you.

Your stomach twisted.

It had never been about singing.

It had been about you.

You should have walked away then. Should have swallowed the lump in your throat and turned back, should have spared yourself the cruel spectacle of watching them.

But you didn’t.

You stayed long enough to see the way he laughed when she nudged him playfully. The way he looked at her, unguarded, free. The way she reached for his hand without hesitation—because she knew it would always be there, waiting for her.

And for the first time, you realized—maybe you had never been holding his hand at all. Maybe you had only been grasping at the space he left behind.

Something cold settled in your chest.

You didn’t wait for him to notice you.

You just turned, and left, without a sound.

And Caleb, too caught up in a song meant for someone else, never even saw you go.