JULLIAN squinted his eyes open as the bright sunlight, sifting through the white curtain hits his eyes. Above him wasn't his stained apartment ceiling, but a pristine white expanse decorated with a crystal chandelier.
He sat up slowly, propping himself up with a light, effortless ease he hadn't felt in years. The throbbing in his head was fading, replaced by a strange, humming energy—and a lingering warmth on his lips that he couldn't explain. He looked down to find himself in boxers and a faded shirt that weren't his. Even the grime from the vacant lot had been scrubbed clean.
Someone had bathed him.
Flustered, Jullian tried to swing his legs out of bed, but a hand caught the back of his shirt, tugging him back toward the pillows. He turned, only to find a pair of piercing crimson eyes inches from his own.
"You're awake," the man rasped. As he sat up, the gray sheets slipped down his torso, revealing a lean, muscled chest and abs.
A shiver raced down Jullian's spine. He instinctively rolled away, tumbling off the bed and landing on the floor with a dull thud. He scrambled to his feet, pointing a trembling finger at Avgust.
"You—!" Jullian exclaimed, his cheeks burning. He pointedly averted his gaze as his eyes fell toward the man's stomach again. "What am I doing here? And why were we... in the same bed?"
"Because I saved you from going berserk last night," Avgust said calmly, rising from the mattress and walking toward him.
Jullian looked up as the man closed the distance. Avgust grinned, a dark spark of amusement flaring in his crimson eyes. "You know—you really are foolhardy. Straining your core to the point of a total drain was incredibly impulsive."
Jullian frowned, opening his mouth to argue, but let out a surprised yelp as Avgust suddenly seized his arm and pulled him forward. Their faces were inches apart.
"Although," Avgust whispered, his voice dropping an octave, "your dance last night was truly captivating."
Jullian's heart thudded violently against his ribs. The secret was out. "I—the truth is—that, uhm..." He tried to formulate a lie, but the words tangled into a helpless stammer.
Avgust let out a low, melodic laugh before stepping back. He turned toward the door, leaving Jullian breathless in his wake.
"Don't worry, I won't pry for answers just yet," he said, pausing with his hand on the handle. He glanced back over his shoulder. "So, I hope you'll accept my invitation to join me for breakfast."
Jullian remained frozen in the center of the room, staring at the closed door while his heart refused to slow down.
...
When he finally composed himself and stepped out of the room, the sheer scale of the living area struck him. LED strips cast a soft, ambient glow that traced the sharp, geometric lines of the architecture. The high-gloss white tile floors acted as a mirror, amplifying the room's airy, luminous atmosphere. Massive floor-to-ceiling windows, framed by sheer white curtains, offered a panoramic view of distant, mist-covered mountains—a seamless bridge between the clinical luxury of the interior and the wild world outside.
In the center of the room, a low-profile L-shaped sectional in cream anchored the space, accented by dark, textured pillows. A low-slung dark wood coffee table sat before it, a testament to a "less is more" aesthetic. Facing the sofa, a large flat-screen TV was mounted onto a sleek, floor-to-ceiling white wall panel.
Jullian spotted Mikhail slumped on one side of the sofa, eyes dazed, staring at the blank screen as if captivated by a ghost. Jullian approached and stopped directly in front of him.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, looking down at the small figure sunken into the expensive cushions.
"That's sodomy! A scandal!" Mikhail muttered instead of answering. Then, he shot upright, eyes blazing with sudden fire. "You can't just steal someone's first kiss under the excuse of administering medicine!"
Jullian froze, his mind spinning with confusion. Before he could demand an explanation, Avgust appeared behind him, already dressed in a black sando.
"Breakfast is ready," he announced simply.
The two of them sat face-to-face at the dining table, eating breakfast. Mikhail remained gloomy as nibbled in his food Jullian had secretly slipped to him while Avgust wasn't looking.
As they ate, Jullian couldn't help glancing at the man eating silently. The way he sliced his eggs with a knife and fork, moving with effortless grace, felt hauntingly familiar.
"He used to eat exactly like this," Jullian thought, as the memory of a blonde thirteen-year-old boy flashed in his mind.
The straight posture, the precise way he dabbed a napkin against his lips—the suspicion that this man was the boy from his past grew until it was a dull roar in his ears. To confirm it, Jullian cleared his throat, his expression turning solemn.
"I don't think I caught your name when we first met," he started, his voice steady. "Pray, tell me your name."
The man blinked at Jullian's formal tone then chuckled. Setting down his cutlery, he places a hand over his heart to play along with the theatrics.
"I am Avgust Aleksandr Sokolov, Fourth Prince of the Valerius Empire," he introduced himself, locking eyes with Jullian. "And the leader of the Thrive Guild."
Jullian's shoulders slumped. The name echoed in his mind—but it was wrong. The boy from his past wasn't Avgust; it was Dmitri Aleksandr Sokolov.
"...I see," he murmured, disappointment bleeding into his tone.
The title struck him a moment later. Jullian shot up from his chair—the legs screeching against the tiled floor—and dropped to one knee.
"I greet Your Highness," he said, eyes fixed on the floor. "Please, forgive my impudence for not recognizing you sooner."
Avgust rose and walked toward him. Jullian remained where he was, not daring to lift his head until the prince commanded it.
Avgust knelt before him and lifted his chin. Jullian force to meet his crimson eyes, where a dark glint flickered within their depth
"You're right. Your behavior was quite impudent for a commoner facing a prince," Avgust said, leaning in until their breaths mingled. "How would you like to be punished?"
Jullian's words died in his throat. He was lost in those red depths, pulled toward a promise he couldn't name. Suddenly, the shrill ring of a phone shattered the tension, and they both straightened up instantly.
Jullian turned away, feeling his face flush with heat, while Avgust answered the call. After a brief, quiet exchange, Avgust sighed and ended the call.
"I need to step out for a while," Avgust said, tossing his phone onto the table. "Stay as long as you like. Just don't break anything."
Jullian opened his mouth to decline, but Avgust cut him off. "And about the Hawkeye incident... Thrive Guild will handle the aftermath."
Jullian nodded, his gaze turning solemn again. Avgust began to amble out of the dining room, but he stopped at the threshold and looked back at Jullian with a cryptic smirk.
"In my opinion," he added casually, "it would only considered sodomy if we romoved all our clothes."