Chapter 292: There was no way to read his thoughts

​Theo knew what this tightness in his chest was. He had grown up; he had seen the way people looked at those they wanted to keep forever. He understood the language of devotion now. But as he looked at Alias—perfect, untouched by time, and looking at the world with the same innocent curiosity—a quiet hesitation gripped him.

​Does he even know what this is? Theo thought, his fingers twitching slightly against Alias’s back. Is a being like him even allowed to feel the way I do?

To Theo, Alias wasn’t just another man. He was... different. In a way, he couldn’t quite point, but he was very sure of it.

​To press too hard, to speak the words of his heart aloud, felt like trying to trap a beam of moonlight in a dusty jar. He was a laborer, a man with dirt under his fingernails and a life built on survival. Alias was... something else entirely.

He didn’t want to put a dent in what they had. And even if it didn’t put a dent, how was he sure he would not stain this perfect moon in his arms with his feelings?

​Alias looked up, noticing the sudden silence and the way Theo’s gaze had softened into something heavy and unreadable.

"Theo?" he asked, his voice a gentle, questioning note. "Are you still sad?"

​Theo looked at the earnest concern in those silver eyes, and the quiet smile that followed it—a smile that was so warm, so completely free of the cold logic of the world.

The doubt in Theo’s mind didn’t vanish, but it settled. He closed his eyes for a brief second, inhaling the clean, sweet scent that seemed to cling to Alias, and let out a slow breath.

​It’ll work out, Theo told himself. Somehow, it has to.

​When he opened his eyes again, the stormy tension had faded, replaced by a quiet warmth.

"I’m not sad anymore," Theo said, his voice low and steady. "Not now that you’re here."

​He slowly let his hands slide down to Alias’s shoulders, giving them a gentle, grounding squeeze before finally letting go. The loss of the physical contact made Alias feel a sudden, strange chill, but Theo’s presence beside him was still massive and comforting.

​"Come on," Theo said, gesturing toward the dark path leading back to the Lower Ward. "Maya is probably waiting, and we’ve kept her from her dinner long enough. Let’s get you out of these fancy clothes before someone tries to peel them off you."

​Alias nodded, a genuine warmth blooming in his chest.

As they began to walk side by side through the cooling shadows of the slums, their shoulders occasionally brushing, Alias kept his eyes on the dusty road ahead.

He didn’t understand the complex mathematics of the feelings shifting between them, but for some reason, he didn’t feel the need to calculate it.

It was enough to simply walk beside him in the dark.

...

The walk back through the Lower Ward felt shorter than it had ten years ago, not because the distance had changed, but because Alias was no longer stumbling.

Beside him, Theo walked with a relaxed, protective stride, his massive shoulder occasionally brushing against Alias’s. Each tiny point of contact sent a quiet sensation through Alias’s veins, a gentle reminder that Theo was now bigger than him.

He stole glances occasionally at Theo, wondering what could be going through his mind right about now.

There was no way to read his thoughts.

​When they finally reached the dwelling, Alias stopped in surprise.

​The crumbling, single-room mud shack that he remembered was gone. In its place stood a modest, two-room building made of sturdier, sun-baked clay bricks.

It wasn’t a manor by any stretch—the walls were uneven, and the wooden door was rough-hewn—but it had structure. It had a small, partitioned living area at the front, and a separate room shut off by a solid wooden door.

​"You rebuilt it," Alias murmured, his eyes scanning the simple architecture.

​"I had to," Theo said, rubbing the back of his neck as he pushed the door open. "Maya started growing up, and... well, she made sure I knew she wasn’t a little girl anymore. She wanted her own space. I built the extra room five years ago."

Alias looked at him. He had done so much for another, once again.

​Inside, the living room was cozy. A low wooden table sat in the center, and a single oil lamp cast a warm, flickering amber glow over a couple of woven chairs and a long, sturdy wooden bench lined with a thin, padded quilt—Theo’s bed.

​Before they could even sit, Theo immediately ushered Alias behind the tattered curtain in the corner.

"First things first. Off with the star-silk, Moon-boy. I managed to keep one of my old tunics from being thrown out. Even if it’s a bit tight on you, it’ll do the trick."

​Through the fabric barrier, Theo tossed a worn, faded blue tunic. When Alias emerged, the rough, familiar weight of mortal cloth settled over his shoulders. It was a little snug across his chest, but as he adjusted the collar, the prickle of the fabric felt like a welcome sensation.

​"Much better," Theo said, his eyes lingering on the way the blue cloth brought out the silver of Alias’s hair before he quickly looked away, clearing his throat. "Now, let’s eat. Maya’s been hovering over the pot since we got back."

Maya had prepared a simple stew of root vegetables and dried fish—thick, hearty, and seasoned with local herbs. For Alias, every spoonful was a quiet miracle of taste.

It was unlike anything they had eaten in the past. Maybe it was because Maya learned to cook, and they actually had money to buy ingredients now that Theo was working.

"How is it?" Theo asked. "You act like you haven’t had anything in your mouth since you left."

That’s because I didn’t eat anything up in the heavens. Alias thought, reeling in the taste. I didn’t even take that long, so it’s all so... hard to take in.

"It’s very good," Alias said. "Better than anything I’ve ever tasted."

"Aw, Mister Alias," Maya wiggled her body, her hands pressed on her flashing cheeks. "You’re making me blush with all that flatter."

"But it’s true," Alias said and took in another spoonful. "You’re so great at this, Maya."