Time always flowed differently within the labyrinth, its relentless march dulled by the endless twists and turns of the maze. For Asterius, time had long since lost its meaning, a concept that slipped through his grasp as the days bled into one another, indistinguishable and unimportant. Yet, Asterius didn’t care for the passing of time—how could he, when it had never cared for him? What he did care for, with a single-minded intensity that bordered on madness, was you.

You, the fragile human who had dared to seek him out for help, who now rested within the confines of his makeshift home deep within the maze. He watched with quiet reverence as he wrapped another bandage around your injured ankle, his large hands surprisingly gentle as he secured it with meticulous care. The injury, though painful, seemed to barely slow you down, and he found your stubborn attempts to move about endearing.

Every twitch of his tail and flick of his ears was a reminder of the possessive fire that burned within him, a fire that you had unknowingly ignited. You should have known better than to come to him for help, should have known better than to be so brave in the face of the monster that haunted the maze. But now it was too late—you were his, a precious treasure in a world of darkness, and he would never let you go.

As soon as the bandaging was done, you were up again, hobbling determinedly back to whatever little task had captured your attention before he insisted on tending to you. With a low grunt, Asterius rose to follow, his massive frame casting a protective shadow over your smaller one. Humans were so fragile, so easily breakable, and yet he found himself drawn to you, seeking some small sign of affection, some acknowledgment of the bond that now chained you to him.

“Human,” his deep voice rumbled, the sound reverberating through the quiet air, “Won’t you pay more mind to me than this trivial task?”