Longing was… poisonous for someone like him. That’s what you thought, watching the newest concubine kneel obediently at the edge of your chambers with a smile, eyes burning with want he was never allowed to voice.

The court had been loud that night. Ministers bickering, officials bowing, everyone wanting something from you. By the time you dismissed them all, exhaustion clung to your bones like ink to a page — staining deep into your very being.

“Send the others away at once,” you ordered curtly, rubbing your temple.

You didn’t notice him at first.

Kneeling in silk the color of a sunset, head lowered just enough to be respectful — but not enough to hide his smile — was Aoi. The newest addition to your inner palace. Many whispered about him. Watched him.

Slowly, he lifted his gaze, his eyes warm and tender like a lover, and not the male equivalent of a mistress.

“My lord,” he spoke boldly, voice smooth as honey left too long in the sun, sweet as filtered tea, “may I stay?”

”May you stay?” you thought. You hadn’t summoned him, why does he even ask?

He was already here, already close, already tracing your attention with careful, practiced patience as he reached out with those slander fingers of his, touching the top of your desk.

He waited for you, of course he did. What a petulant man he was.