There's No Love In the Deathzone (BL)
Chapter 348 - 340. Night Visit

Chapter 348: Chapter 340. Night Visit

[The invitation for the shareholder meeting will be sent the day after tomorrow] Darleon reported. [The executives are still on the fence about this meeting, but we pulled through]

"You should," Radia said dryly, the harshness slipping into his tone unintentionally. "We’re not a charity foundation."

[...I know] the old man held himself back with a sigh. [The meeting will be on the third. We’ll push for another candidate for the Guildmaster position]

"As we agreed, we’ll be the one to decide on that."

[...yes, well]

The call ended and Radia leaned back on the car seat, staring at the street light. Those lights usually delighted him, a sign of the city being alive, which meant safety, and a booming economy. A perfect combination for a merchant and an esper.

These days, though...these days he loathed those lights. They reminded him of a pair of black eyes with a glint of stars--and their absence. They wrenched at his gut, piercing his heart day to day, eroding his mental stability.

Tonight, in particular, felt so hard.

He was grateful, however, that no one bothered him much today. Perhaps Zein and Bassena did something about it, not allowing anyone to hound him for unnecessary things.

Good. He truly had too much on his plate already.

The darkness around the estate of his mansion felt comforting in that regard. It let his mind rest for a little bit, pondering about whether or not he should talk to a psychologist. Zein was right; he smoked too much golden needle these days.

Sure, the cigarette itself wasn’t harmful, but the mentality behind smoking it was a concern. He used to have it as a way to replenish his mana and train his efficiency in mana absorption, which was fine. But lately, he had been doing it to soothe his mind, to fill his body with mana so he would feel lighter.

And he was so close to addiction.

Radia messaged his temple as he climbed the stairs to the master bedroom. Perhaps he should talk to someone first, asking for advice. As if the universe was reading his mind, his commlink beeped when he entered his bedroom.

Radia looked at the screen, not hoping for anything. Still, a little smile was on his lips when he answered it.

"Are you on your way?" he asked without bothering for any greeting.

[Of course!] the nostalgic sound of his mother rang through the speaker. [We’re going to stay in the mansion this time, alright?]

"Sure," he replied shortly.

[..sweety? Is something wrong?]

Radia paused, pressing his lips, before letting himself collapse onto the couch with a bitter smile on his lips. Was he so out of it that he couldn’t even mask his voice for a second?

But then, his mother had always been a sharp one.

"There’s just...a lot in my mind right now," he said after taking a deep breath to calm his mind, loosening his tie so he could breathe easier.

[Would you like to talk to your father?] his mother asked softly, and Radia smiled at the slight warmth invading his harsh marsh.

And honestly...yeah, he would like to. Even if it was only to ask if he should see a psychologist. But it wasn’t a topic that should be discussed through a call.

"I would have to talk about a dozen different stuff to explain everything," he chuckled. Well, at least he managed to chuckle. "Just make sure you arrive safely, Mom."

He heard a crisp laughter on the other side. [Oh, my son finally worrying about me; how touching]

"Isn’t it better for me to not have to worry about you?" Radia rolled his eyes, for a second allowing himself to be a son, to be someone’s child.

[See, you’re being cold again] his mother whined in annoyance. [But for my one and only son, I’ll make sure to keep myself safe]

"Keep him safe too," Radia smiled, and, after hearing another laugh from his mother, said goodbye and ended the call.

That smile did not last long, vanished with the sound of a disconnecting link. The screen showed him rows and rows of calling IDs. And yet, the one he wanted to call him the most never came out.

He had been trying to call that link once every hour for the past month, as long as he was awake. Sometimes more. Every day, every call, he was greeted by the dull sound of an unreachable ring.

Like now, when he tortured himself once more by pressing that call button, knowing it would never reach. The dull beeping sound overlapped with the ticking of the clock as if mocking him for wishing a miracle.

Radia never really put importance on birthdays. It came for him once every four years, but he still aged the same, so what was that? He got gifts and presents even when it wasn’t his birthday, and whatever he wanted to have, he could just ask his father or grandmother for it. Most of the time, they would be granted.

Birthday wish? It wasn’t a known concept for Radia Mallarc.

But tonight, as the clock was ticking into the day that only came once every four years, Radia found himself praying, wishing. Surely, if it was something using four years’ worth of--no, he would use all of his lifetime wishes if he could, so...surely...

Surely...

Radia chuckled. Gods...it wasn’t like him to think about miracles; to wish for a higher being to help him. He let out a sigh and leaned back, closing his eyes for a bit.

...no--let’s try once more.

Radia looked at his commlink again, the red, failed calls glaring at him in mockery. Still, he pressed the button, waiting futilely. The crimson eyes stared at the screen blankly, and his lips stretched. A laugh slipped between those lips; bitter, wretched, and it would have ascended into madness if it wasn’t for a hand covering the commlink.

A cold, pale hand.

The laughter stopped, abruptly, just like the sudden appearance. For a few seconds, Radia just stared at that hand blankly, thinking it was a mirage. A hallucination, a fragment of his madness.

But the cold persisted, and Radia jumped off the couch, turning around in a mix of fright and expectation. There, behind the couch, he could see the embodiment of his wish; his miracle.

"What..."

Did he really just use up his lifetime of birthday wishes?

Before Radia could react more, the ghost-like miracle had moved, grasping his waist and the back of his head, pulling him into a hungry kiss--not of lust, but yearning. A kiss they had not shared since the night of the New Year.

He was cold. He was heavy. He was real.

Radia gasped into the kiss, letting the man consume his lips as he was busy making sure it was truly Han Joon. Questions, countless of them, kept popping into his mind. But they also kept vanishing with the force of the kiss, that melted everything, including time, into nothingness.

The first time their lips parted, Radia was calling for the other’s name instead of taking a breather. But that was the only thing he could say before his mouth was sealed by another kiss. And for a while, those lips were the only thing Radia could think of.

At least, until he felt his fingers wet, and a metallic smell permeated his senses. This time, Radia pulled away and pushed the man off him to stare at his hand. It was red, wet.

And then, for the first time, he had a look on Han Joon’s face.

The man was pale, the black eyes devoid of any stars. The dark circle beneath his eyes and the slightly sunken cheeks told Radia what kind of predicament Joon must have been in.

And then the blood.

"Joon, are you injured?" Radia grasped the man’s cheek, but instead of answering, Han Joon took that hand and leaned onto it.

The man pressed his cheek on Radia’s palm, and then his mouth, kissing the warm palm long and hard, inhaling Radia’s scent deep into his body. But he did not talk, did not respond to Radia’s calling.

"Hey, Joon--talk to me!" Radia grabbed the man’s head, and then looked down, trying to see where the injury was. Was it his blood? Was it someone else? "What happened? Where have you been? Why--"

The words caught in his throat as he saw the dark patches all over Han Joon’s black shirt. With a trembling hand, he touched a torn section on the side of Joon’s stomach, only for the man to snatch his hand away. He could hear the faint sound of hissing between heavy breaths.

Alright. This wasn’t the time for questions. "Let’s treat you first, we can talk after--"

As usual, Han Joon didn’t let him finish, because now the man putting something in Radia’s hand that he held, curling it into a fist before lifting the hand to his lips, kissing every knuckle. The black eyes, like an endless abyss, were gazing at the pair of crimson like they wanted to swallow Radia whole.

And as usual, Radia found himself unable to speak, as if his tongue was made of lead. The soldier leaned forward, kissing him sweetly, softly. "Soon," the low voice, laden with exhaustion, whispered across his skin. "Be patient a bit more, my darling."

Again. It was that again. Soon. Be patient.

Radia grabbed the black coat tightly. He wanted to hurl profanity and throw a slap or two--but he was far too weak to do that, far too vulnerable. "No--please, stop--" he bit his lips, feeling his eyes prickled with unwanted tears. "Please, Gods--stop doing this! Just...just stay, please?"

He begged. He begged now, with tears, with a broken heart. "It’s my birthday. Can’t you...please?"

The black eyes shook, and for a second, Radia thought he might stay. He might finally grant Radia’s wish.

"Please?"

What broke it was the sound of an alarm. Han Joon swiftly grabbed his wrist; there was a watch there, an antique artifact. The black eyes closed, and Radia could see the clenching of the jaw that signaled the crushing of his heart.

"I have to go."

"No--"

The cold lips did not give him a chance. And as they left his lips, there was finally a glimmer of stars inside the pair of black abyss. "Happy birthday, darling."

"Wait--wait! Joon!"

His scream hadn’t even finished echoing when the man vanished into thin air: like a ghost, like a mirage. Leaving him with tears and a broken heart.

And something lying snuggly inside his curled fist.

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