Before Ellios could take another step away, fingers closed around his arm.
Not rough—yet firm enough to stop him.
He turned, startled, and met Dan's eyes.
"Don't do that," Dan said quietly.
Ellios frowned. "Do what?"
"Disappear," Dan replied. His grip tightened just a little, as if afraid Ellios might dissolve into air if he let go. "Hastur doesn't like your silence. If you're going to walk away, at least talk to him first."
Ellios stiffened.
"What do you mean by that?" he asked, voice low.
Before Dan could answer, a sharp force struck his shoulder.
Dan stumbled back with a grunt.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Gabriel snarled.
He stood between them now, broad frame tense, eyes blazing with hostility as he shoved Dan farther away. Every instinct in him screamed threat. He didn't know why—but his body reacted before his mind could catch up.
Dan laughed breathlessly, rubbing his shoulder. "Easy there, watchdog."
Gabriel stepped forward again. "Say that again."
"Gabriel," Ellios snapped, grabbing his arm. "Stop."
Gabriel hesitated, then turned to him, anger flickering with confusion. "Sir, why was he holding you?"
Ellios pulled him aside, lowering his voice. "It's nothing. Don't cause a scene."
Dan watched them, expression unreadable. Then he lifted two fingers in a casual salute. "Guess we'll see each other again," he said lightly—though his eyes lingered on Gabriel. "You too."
Gabriel bristled. "Don't count on it."
Ellios said nothing. He didn't trust his voice to come out steady.
They stepped outside into the cooling evening air. The neon lights behind them buzzed faintly, distant and unreal.
Gabriel rounded on him the moment the door closed. "Who was that man? Why was he touching you like that?"
Ellios opened his mouth to answer.
Buzz.
His phone vibrated in his hand.
An unknown number.
Gabriel was still talking, words overlapping in concern and suspicion, but Ellios barely heard him as his eyes locked onto the screen.
Unknown:
Come meet me.
A second message followed almost immediately.
Unknown:
—Hastur
The world seemed to narrow to that single word.
Hastur.
His chest tightened. His pulse spiked. All the things he had spent 7 days forcing down—memories, sensations, unfinished tension—surged back like a tide breaking through a dam.
"Ellios?" Gabriel said sharply. "I'm talking to you."
Ellios blinked, pulling himself back. "What?"
"I asked you what he wanted," Gabriel said. "And why you look like you've seen a ghost."
Ellios locked his phone and slipped it into his pocket, heart hammering. "It's nothing. Just… work."
Gabriel didn't look convinced.
Before he could press further, footsteps approached. Judy came toward them, her expression composed, professional once more. The softness from earlier was gone, carefully folded away behind the mask she wore so well.
"The car is ready," she said calmly.
Ellios nodded. "Thank you."
They got into the car. The doors shut with a muted thud, sealing him inside the quiet.
As the vehicle pulled away, city lights streaked past the windows. Judy stared straight ahead. Gabriel sat rigid beside him, still wound tight.
Ellios barely noticed.
His phone burned in his pocket.
Every second felt stretched, suspended between fear and something dangerously close to anticipation. His thoughts tangled over one another.
This ends tonight, he told himself.
He could not keep hovering at the edge of something that threatened everything—his position, his sister, his fragile safety. Hastur was a danger. Beautiful. Kind. Dangerous.
And silence had not erased him.
Slowly, almost unconsciously, Ellios pulled out his phone again.
He stared at the message for a long time, thumb hovering.
Then, with a quiet breath, he typed.
Ellios:
Ok.
He locked the phone and leaned back, closing his eyes.
Somewhere inside, a door clicked open. It's exactly where Ellios has just left.
Not far from the massage house Ellios had just left, a man stood beneath a flickering streetlight.
Yellow jacket. Hands in his pockets.
Hastur.
The light washed his hair in pale gold, shadows cutting sharp lines across his face. He looked human—too human—but the air around him felt wrong, as if reality itself held its breath.
Beside him, Dan leaned against the wall, laughing softly as he smoked.
"Well," Dan drawled, red cigarette glowing between his fingers. "Guess I win."
Hastur did not reply. His gaze was fixed on the darkened entrance Ellios had exited moments ago.
Dan continued, amused. "A whole week passed, Not a single call. Not even a peek. I told you—humans get scared and run. You should've let a professional handle it."
Hastur's fingers tightened slightly in his pockets.
"An incubus wouldn't have had this problem," Dan went on smugly. "Seduce him, wrap him up. Easy."
Silence.
Dan smirked. "The fact that he didn't reply? That tells you everything. He's not interested."
A soft chime cut through the air.
Hastur's phone vibrated.
He glanced down.
For a moment, nothing changed.
Then—slowly—the corner of his mouth lifted.
Dan noticed immediately. "What is it?"
He leaned closer, peering at the screen.
Ellios:
Ok.
Dan froze.
"…No way," he muttered.
Hastur's smile deepened—not wide, not triumphant. Something quieter. More dangerous.
Without a word, he turned and started down the alleyway.
Dan snorted, pushing off the wall to follow. "Guess I owe you a drink. Or you owe me one—for almost getting punched by that guard dog."
Hastur did not slow. "You really are incompetent."
Dan chuckled. "Worth it."
As they walked, something flickered in Dan's eyes—brief, sharp, and gone before Hastur could turn to catch it. Something older than humor. Something calculating.
"Well," Dan said lightly, masking it. "Looks like your Buddha finally answered."
Hastur's fingers brushed his chest absently, right where Ellios had fallen into him days ago.
The warmth was still there.
And this time, he did not murmur to himself.
He simply smiled—and stepped deeper into the dark.