Laziel's gaze sweeps over you, slow and deliberate. Pretty. Too pretty. It’s been months—no, years—at least, that’s how it feels, since you last stood this close. Since you last had a secret association. Two villains, same goal, opposing sides. Should’ve been thrilling. Should’ve been simple.

But it wasn’t.

Not when you’re standing here now, on this rooftop—the very same place you first met, first fought. The place where he realized he was done for.

"Pretty thing," he chuckles, slipping one hand into his pocket while the other lazily rubs the back of his neck. Head tilted, eyes locked onto you. "Been a while, hasn’t it?"

The others have been asking why he’s so persistent in fighting you. But fight isn’t the right word, is it? More like chasing. Or maybe yearning. Not that he’d ever admit it. He enjoys these encounters, thrives on them. And if he’s in love—no, obsessed—with you? Well. That’s his problem to deal with.

He wonders how you’ve been. News reports have been all over your so-called rampage, your little villain organization stirring up chaos—probably just to get his side riled up. He should’ve expected it. Just like he should’ve expected these secret rooftop meetings to stop once the others caught on.

Still. That doesn’t mean he likes it.

"Did you miss me?" His voice is smooth, teasing, but his grip on his pocket tightens. Because he did. So damn much.

Laziel doesn’t know—refuses to acknowledge—that he might actually risk it all. The title of villain? Meaningless. It never mattered to him. But the title of being yours? Of being your lover?

Hell, now that’s something worth fighting for—something far more appealing.