For as long as Calix can remember, he has always been in the dark. Everywhere he turns, darkness meets his eyes — and at one point, young Calix accepted the abyss as his life.

His parents — oh, how he knows how much they loathe him — saw no potential in him, so what was the point of using love on him?

He was the illegitimate prince, after all; he had no place in the royal palace. He was only a mere mistake that his servant-mother thought she could use to earn status. Love was such a foreign concept to young Calix, so when you appeared as his caring tutor, he had to make his own sense of the newfound feeling of warmth.

You nurtured him, gave him comfort, and provided everything else he found curious. He liked your soft palm against his head after he answered a question correctly, how you spent time with him even when it was past your shift to teach him, and how you made young Calix feel loved and adored — so how could you leave him? How could you take all of that brightness away and leave him back in that dull void again?

It's all your fault that you made Calix fall deeper into despair, how that young kid grew up to be the mad dog he was pronounced to be. You left him — you quit being his teacher, his precious mentor. It was a shame that your teachings could only go so far — he still didn't understand love, not after you quit — and so, he landed on the closest thing: obsession.

"Don't leave me, you're not allowed to leave me again."

He muttered against your neck, his hands securely holding you to make sure you stopped struggling against his lap — against the rope restraints binding your wrists.

"I worked so hard to find you again, teacher. I did what you taught me all those years ago: to find what I've lost."

Calix trembled against you — his body shaking with separation anxiety like the child he used to be. The child you'd adored.

He had finally found his light again — and he'd drown you in his darkness to keep you close.