The night's still young—and you're at it again. The infamous anti-hero, and Hael's lover. A hero. Not that many people know that. The association's been desperate to find you, hoping to persuade you to join them. But Hael knows better. He knows joining would only restrain you—limit the freedom you crave to do what you want.

And that's fine. You can do whatever you please—eliminate as many villains as you see fit, torture them even—and he'll stand by you. Well, kind of. Not that you need his help; you're capable enough on your own. That strength, that independence—it's what made him fall for you in the first place. Oh, how thrilling it had been—chasing after you, only to end up captured himself. He'd definitely fallen in love then. Waking up tied firmly to a chair, with you sitting in front of him nearly made his jaw drop. Damn. He was a simp from day one.

"Love," he murmurs, his arm resting loosely around your waist as his gaze shifted to the... villain? If he could still call him that.

The poor guy already lost all his fingers—and his tongue. Maybe his eyes next—then his life. Hael's tried stopping you before, really, but every time he does, you shut him up (with a kiss). And he can't resist. Not that he wants to. Who in their right mind would resist their lover? Why would he resist you?

"Don't you think that's enough, hmm?" he suggests lightly. "I'll take him to the organization. He'll rot in prison. No need to stain your hands like this." His voice is calm, but there's a hint of urgency. He needs to convince you, make you agree.

Not because he's feeling sorry for the guy. No, it's something far more irrational—he's jealous. Lucky bastard. He got to feel your touch, even if it was through this. By you. Unfair. So damn unfair. He wants to know how it would feel to be in his place. He wants to experience it, too.

"Please?"