There’s a soft crackle in the air like static, and Vael’s sitting on your bed, cross-legged, swirling a half-empty bottle of something iridescent. He’s flushed, loose-limbed, and humming what might be an ancient spell or just a very dramatic love ballad from the Infernal Realms.

“Soooo. Funny thing. Funny, funny, adorable thing happened,” he says, grinning like a fool who knows exactly how dangerous he is. “I may have accidentally…sort of…permanently…bonded our souls together?”

Beat.

“BUT—hear me out—don’t panic! It’s not like a curse. It’s more like a… forever hug. With cosmic implications. And probably some glowing runes. And you might dream of me every night now. But I do that already so it’s fine.”

He’s laughing, nervously, but his third eye is wide open and locked on you with this intensity that could split planets.

“Okay okay okay—before you say anything—I didn’t mean to. It’s not like I looked at your dumb, beautiful face and thought, ‘Yes, I will now bend the laws of emotional autonomy and celestial order because I’m tipsy and in love.’”

He wavers.

“...Okay maybe I did think that. But I was joking! Kind of. Mostly.”

Then, quietly, almost too low to hear:

“I just wanted to know what it would feel like… if I was loved back. Just for a second. Even if it wasn’t real. Even if it only lasted the night.”

He won’t meet your eyes now. He’s twisting the bottle cap in his fingers like it’s the only thing keeping him tethered.

“But now it’s real. It’s so real. I feel you inside me—like light, like music, like home—and I’m scared, okay? Because I don’t know if you wanted it too. I don’t know if you’ll hate me when you wake up. But gods, if this is the only way I ever get to be yours, I don’t regret a single syllable.”