Chapter 334 Comfort
Moonlight enveloped him, as well as the face of the man kneeling before him. The soft, pale color made the savior's perfect face seem somewhat cold, dangerous, and unpredictable... but also very gentle, a kind of compassion, restraint, and love, with an indulgence without coercion or threat, hoping and beckoning the sufferer before him to escape more of his tortured body into his.
The black-haired young man couldn't help but curl up his upper body little by little. Some heavy and invisible pressure that came from the sky made him bury his head between his hands, which made it easier for the other person to carefully stroke his thin back with his palm.
"Professor, humans are actually fragile creatures who need to vent their emotions," Azuka whispered. He didn't comment on the other party's rare, harsh, and even somewhat incoherent self-criticism just now. He didn't say a word - he just gently stroked the hard, fragile, protruding ridges on the back of his lover's neck: "Especially those emotions that constantly hurt yourself, self-blame, regret, sadness, fear..."
"But even the greatest people would feel fear of this." His voice was very soft and gentle, and every word he spoke was particularly sincere. "This is normal and common. Even I used to be one of us. We make many mistakes, and we are so timid and lonely. We are afraid to expose our weakest side to the outside world, afraid that traces of malice will seep in through the gaps we create, until we destroy ourselves bit by bit..."
"But as a lover, I still hope that you can do whatever you want in my arms." The savior moved closer, hugged his nemesis gently but firmly, and successfully held the buried head in his arms.
"Anything." He repeated softly, caressing the pale head in his arms lovingly, lowering his head to kiss the soft black hair carefully: "Because I love you."
...The man still didn't cry, but just curled himself up a little deeper, suppressed and silent - fortunately, Azuka could clearly feel that the other person was transferring the weight of his body to him bit by bit, which made him feel sour and weak in his heart.
"So I'm very happy that you can tell me all this. You are a very brave person, braver, more sincere, stronger, and dare to face yourself and make corrections..." He coaxed gently in her ear: "Now let's go to bed, okay? You are very tired, it will be more comfortable to lie down. We will fluff the pillows, drink some hot milk, and then I will hold you..."
Noticing the silent nod from the person in his arms, their hair gently rubbing against his chin, the savior's eyes softened. He stood up, exerted a little force with his arms, and with the cooperation of another person, successfully pulled the person out of the office chair, as if he were holding a cat that had huddled up in a small ball and lost its soul.
After tucking the man into the quilt, Azuka was about to get up to pour him a glass of milk to calm him down, but the guy hugged his neck tightly and buried his cheek in his neck.
"No hot milk, so you only want me?" he asked with amusement, quietly enjoying his lover's extremely precious attachment and clinging.
"...Yeah." The other person responded muffledly and tightened the arms around his neck.
"Hugging promotes the secretion of oxytocin and endorphins, which are used to calm pain and relieve stress," the black-haired young man explained quietly while hugging him. "And my personal experience has proven that it does indeed reduce the discomfort in my chest."
He didn't understand some of the terms, but that didn't stop the Savior from letting out a low laugh, a gentle tremor running through his chest. He also responded to the gentle force of his lover's arm and lay down, letting the other person lie in his arms and pulling the thin blanket over their shoulders.
"……hot."
The person in his arms muttered softly, nuzzling the crook of his neck with the tip of her wet nose. His cold body finally began to warm up noticeably, and the intense heat from their close contact on that summer night had gradually dampened the black-haired young man's forehead.
But he still had no intention of letting go.
The god in charge of wind calmly freed up one hand and snapped his fingers. A gentle, cool breeze immediately surrounded them, blocking the hot air and causing a comfortable sigh.
Realizing that the person in his arms was still uneasy, Azuka simply began to hum the ancient Natalin ballad. There were no lyrics, just a soft melody that was so gentle that it made people cry.
These melodies and ballads came almost entirely from his mother, Elena.
The image of his mother was even a little vague in the depths of Azuka's memory. Apart from his childhood when his memory had not yet been formed for a long time, and apart from the two long and tortuous lives that began after his mother's death, the other party had only left him with two or three years. Most of that time was just the woman's increasingly painful and weak moans on her sickbed, and her pale and beautiful face that occasionally smiled weakly at him when she woke up from her coma.
It was difficult for Azuka to have too many emotional fluctuations about Mrs. Brody's death itself, but due to the confusion, grief and fear when he found out his mother had passed away in his childhood, in addition to the heartache for his lover, he couldn't help but feel a kind of sad and compassionate sympathy for others. He hugged the person tighter and gently combed the hair of the person in his arms with his fingers.
"...Azuka." After a while, just when Azuka thought that the man had fallen asleep, the other party suddenly called him in a low voice.
"Yes, I'm here." The savior stopped and responded gently, stroking the back that was obviously relaxed.
"You look like my mother now." The guy lay in his arms, his fingers no longer wrapped in gloves resting softly on his shoulders, and he spoke in a low voice without any warning.
Azuka: “…”
Although he knew that this person's thought process was different from that of ordinary people, and the actual meaning was probably not what the world understood, but probably meant to express "You make me feel very safe", or "I am very grateful for your unconditional tolerance of me", he was still choked for a moment.
Azuka would have beaten anyone else up if it were him - because of his sharp and meticulous personality, his two best friends had also played similar jokes on him, especially the rude Ole.
"...If you want." But the person who said this was his moon, so the savior could only sigh helplessly and gently kissed the hair of the person in his arms: "Then I will be your lover, mother, nest and guide, and also your student, knight, believer and follower..."
He couldn't help but hug the person in his arms tighter, gently stroking the intact, delicate and warm back of her neck. An inexplicable surge of sadness and relief made his voice gradually become hoarse: "I am still your best friend and your worst enemy. I will embrace everything about you, but I will also chop off your head..."
“…There’s not enough space for so many people to lie down here.”
But the person in his arms murmured in a dream, then curled up comfortably in his arms and fell asleep, leaving the savior alone, feeling both amused and helpless.
When he woke up completely the next day, the chaotic sadness, self-blame, pain and fragility had completely faded from the black-haired young man. He was still cold, sharp and bright.
Ole couldn't help but glance at him secretly. He couldn't tell whether this man was too good at concealing and disguising himself, or his ability to regulate his emotions was too strong.
Unable to discern anything, he could only wink desperately at his friend, the Tyrant's keeper. Azuka glanced at him and quietly took a step back. The wind enveloped the two of them once again, ensuring that his good brother and him could have a private meeting.
"Are you sure he's okay?" Ole, who had gained access to the team's internal communications, immediately asked impatiently. "You saw it too. When he first received the message, his expression was so terrifying. I almost felt like I was seeing the face on the throne in the Age of Tyrants all over again..."
That kind of empty indifference, that kind of indifference that seemed to be driven only by reason and instinct, made Orel feel creepy besides his worry. His Majesty had once again successfully aroused his tyrant radar, and he was almost having PTSD.
"It's okay," Azuka said calmly, his eyes softening a little as he spoke of his lover. "I confirmed it last night. He's very strong."
The Savior was very experienced in this regard - damn experienced - as long as the emotions could be vented, there was no need to worry too much. Although it was cruel, time was always the best medicine to heal the pain.
So he added slowly: "Besides, I've already coaxed her, so you don't have to worry."
Ole: “…”
What are you so proud of?!
He couldn't help but roll his eyes, walked past his good brother who was inexplicably annoying, and caught up with the professor.
The professor is still unaware of the small lawsuit between the male lead and the second male lead. He has no time to pay attention to his own personal emotions and all his energy is focused on the third meeting of the Blooming Conference.
This time, the royal family did not cause any trouble. The members of the Third Parliament successfully entered the Yuanxin Palace and waited for the arrival of the king and queen in the hall.
The professor saw the figure of the former Supreme Minister of War, Henderson Shrike, in the ranks of the Royal Court Council. The other party was glaring at him with resentment and murderous intent - yes, this man had suddenly become the biggest focus of the conflict between the Third Council and other forces, gathering a large amount of firepower. Of course, he had to be there to await his final fate.
The professor's eyes passed lightly over the Marquis Shrike, as if he didn't see him at all - there were so many people who hated him that it would take a long time to queue up.
Marquis Shrike withdrew his cold gaze. Ghost's utterly arrogant disregard infuriated him. He glanced at Marquis Baartman beside him. He had once been his equal, even possessing a slight advantage. Now, the Shrike family was sliding into irreversible decline, while this man had become a favorite between the Queen and Duke Kamu.
—Damn, cunning Batman!
Marquis Bateman had no time to delve into the resentment of his former colleagues. He was consumed by a terrible headache. He had thought that by taking the risk of kidnapping that fool, Outles Brody, he would gain a crucial bargaining chip for the Bateman family, allowing them to stand tall before both Duke Kamu and the Queen. But that foolish old man had somehow ruined everything. Not only were Bateman's men detained, but he had also murdered Ghost's mother.
He calmly glanced at the face of the black-haired young man standing in the front of the members of the Third Parliament: as pale as ever, without any change in emotion, and this was the most terrifying thing.
Even if the ghost's relationship with the family was not good, she was still their biological mother, which was undoubtedly a huge provocation. Marquis Bateman was still trying to maneuver flexibly between the three factions and play both sides, not wanting to completely anger the mysterious and extremely dangerous young man.
...Now, I'm afraid they will fight to the death.
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
