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Writer's pictureTessie

ABYSSWALKER DELULU - FINDING HOME AMIDST THE NIGHT

It’s time for me to drop another #delulu about him, ma man 🥹❤️❤️


This will be an Abysswalker Myth related so please proceed with caution if you dun want spoiler or anything of sort


And this also the first time I changed the narrative to “us” the reader so thank you for all the ideas ☺️☺️❤️


Hope you enjoy it and pleaseeeee come quicker Fishie Fishie boi! 🌊🌊🌊🌊


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FINDING HOME AMIDST THE NIGHT


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As darkness descended upon the palace, the scorching heat of the day gave way to the biting chill of the night. You sat by the window, gazing out at the desert landscape under the starry sky. The sight of the countless stars once again reminded you of the 99 times you had attempted to escape and explore the world beyond the palace walls, only to fail miserably each time. Except for that one time, the one time you had escaped with your savior, the only person who had ever taken you out of the gilded cage that was the palace.


Ever since that successful 100th attempt, you had looked forward to seeing Rafayel again, hoping he would take you to discover places you had never known existed. You also began to pore over the few remaining books on Lemuria in the library. The books revealed that long, long ago, the Lemurian had lived in a place called "the sea," a vast expanse of water that covered most of Philos' habitable land. But due to a cataclysmic event that had gone unrecorded for tens of thousands of years until now, that "sea" was now just a memory, a distant dream for those who lived on this strip of golden sand.


You often longed to ask Rafayel what the "sea" was like, if he could describe it to you. But seeing the wistful look in his eyes whenever you mentioned Lemuria or the "sea," you never had the courage to stir up such painful memories. Though you had no parents, you could still understand the feeling of losing one's home, as if you yourself had a similar emptiness within you. You knew that this place, this palace, was not your home.

The moon's glow intensified, signaling the deepening night. Rafayel had not appeared again today. You knew he couldn't always be there, but waiting for him had become one of your habits. You dreamed of traveling with him to far-off places and learning things you never thought you'd need, like how to fight like an assassin. You left the balcony and walked to your bedside table, reaching into the drawer and retrieving a dagger with a deep purple fishtail hilt.


Holding the fishtail dagger he had given you, you marveled at how this beautiful object concealed a weapon capable of inflicting harm and taking lives. An image flashed in your mind, and you knew exactly who it was meant for. Beautiful yet dangerous... But you weren't afraid to approach him... because that was what, deep down in your heart, you wanted to do...


As you stroked the exquisite fishtail weapon, a sudden gust of cold wind swept through the room. In a matter of seconds, a dagger was pressed against your throat, your eyes were covered, and you could feel a steady breath behind you. How familiar. Neither of you spoke, but in a blink of an eye, to the surprise of the person behind you, you swiftly spun around, facing the hands that were covering your eyes. With the exquisite fishtail dagger in your right hand, you aimed straight for the neck of the person behind you and lunged. Just as the tip of the dagger was about to touch his throat, your movement suddenly stopped. You looked straight into his eyes and said:


"So, should I stab your throat or your chest? Which would be more fatal?"


Rafayel looked at you and let out a low chuckle, "Your Highness has begun to grasp the basics." With that, he grabbed the hand that was holding the fishtail and pulled it down to his chest. "But for me, the real weakness is the 'heart' right in front of me."


Before you could fully process his words, he suddenly pulled you closer. He tripped your leg, causing you to lose balance and fall onto the bed. Immediately, he held your hands down, pinning them above your head, pressed his entire body against you, and whispered into your ear, "But Your Highness has also forgotten that a skilled assassin must know how to counterattack."


His suggestive words and actions sent a wave of heat through your body. Trying to dispel your flustered state, you struggled against his embrace, but your hand accidentally brushed against his right side. It wasn't until he let out a soft groan and a warm, damp sensation seeped into your hand that you realized he was wounded, and not lightly.


"You're hurt! Why didn't you treat it before coming here? What if the guards find you? Your wound won't be limited to just this!"


An inexplicable anger surged through you. You knew that someone like him was no stranger to wounds, but for some reason, your heart ached for him. You only knew that you didn't want him to suffer any more harm.

Suppressing your tumultuous emotions, you rolled Rafayel over and had him sit up on the bed. For the first time, you spoke to him in a commanding tone, "As your princess, I order you to stay here and not go anywhere. I'll get you some medicine."


With that, you left Rafayel who was staring at you in bewilderment and went to fetch the medicine, unaware that after you left, he clutched his chest, where the crimson mark near his heart was glowing brightly. Only a few minutes later, you returned, carrying bandages and vials of precious healing potions that had been gifted to you as a special privilege for the princess.


You approached Rafayel, sat down beside him at the bedside, and reached for the still bleeding wound with your handkerchief. But as you were about to touch the wound, you realized a dilemma. "I wonder... can you... expose the wound yourself?"


Rafayel looked at you, his eyes twinkling mischievously, "How does Your Highness want it to be “exposed”? Like this?"


With that, Rafayel grabbed the dagger and was about to cut a large piece of his clothes right over the wound. You immediately stopped him.


"Such a precious garment shouldn’t be ruined. Perhaps... you should take it off instead."


Rafayel let out a low chuckle, "Are you sure, Your Highness? Could it be that Your Highness... has some ulterior motive?"


Unable to bear his suggestive tone any longer, you stood up abruptly and ran out of the room, not forgetting to leave a message,

"You have one moment to change!"


Rafayel laughed, watching your retreat. It had been a while since he had seen such a sight. As soon as he finished his thoughts, he picked up the handkerchief you had intended to clean the wound with and kissed it. "Only you... can calm the storm in my heart."


Outside, while you were hesitating whether to enter the room even though it hadn't been a minute yet, the sound of approaching guards and maids made you quickly forget your worries and go straight back into the room, locking the door behind you. "Phew, that was close."


But your sigh of relief didn’t last long before the scene in front of you shattered your newly gathered calm. The bright moonlight streaming through the window illuminated Rafayel’s figure. He was casually caressing your fish-tail knife, half-naked and leaning against the headboard. His wound was glaringly red. The sight made your heart skip a beat.


Noticing your presence, Rafayel turned towards you, extending a hand like an invitation. "Is this exposure enough for Your Highness’s treatment? Come here."


Almost instinctively, you approached, placing your hand in his palm, and he gently guided you to sit beside him. Your heart pounded so hard that you couldn’t think straight until you saw the bleeding wound, reminding you of your task.


You carefully cleaned the wound and prepared to apply the medicine but noticed the prepared cloth was missing. Unperturbed, you grabbed another handkerchief and continued the treatment. Throughout the process, Rafayel didn’t utter a word of complaint. Only his labored breathing gave away the pain he was enduring.

With the final step of bandaging left, you felt utterly at a loss. Holding the bandage opposite him, you were unsure how to proceed.


After enjoying your flustered attempts for a while, Rafayel finally spoke. "Has Your Highness never bandaged a wound before? Come here, I'll teach you."


As he spoke, he grasped one end of the bandage and gently pulled, drawing you closer until you nearly touched his freshly treated wound. "Be gentle, or else..."


"Shh," Rafayel hushed you, guiding your hand around him. "You need to pay attention, or you won't understand."


Your ears turned red. You had no choice but to look down, embarrassed. Rafayel continued his "instruction," whispering in your ear while guiding your hand. "Fix it on one side, then start wrapping... that's right... just like that... see, the wound is covered now... good job."


Rafayel’s constant whispers in your ear made your heart race uncontrollably. He guided you through each step until the bandage was wrapped securely. Then he leaned back against the headboard, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath before looking at you. "Thank you for your care, Your Highness, but it's time for your servant to leave."


As he attempted to rise, a sudden boldness surged within you, and you grabbed his hand. To his surprise, you blurted out words you never expected to say. "If possible, please stay for the night."


Rafayel looked at you in astonishment, as if unable to believe you had said that. "Didn’t Your Highness the one who forbade me from entering your room?"


"But haven't you already broken that rule?" you replied, your gaze steady. "Just for tonight, please stay. I want to see you rest."


Feeling a tightened pain in his chest, Rafayel looked at you with a mixture of surprise and tenderness. Holding onto his heart, he replied, "If Your Highness already insisted, who could ever stop you?"


Without waiting for your response, he reached out, pulled you into his arms, and gently lay you both down. Rafayel wrapped his arms around you and softly whispered, "It’s time to rest, Your Highness."


A warm feeling flowed through you, and you smiled, caressing his handsome face. "Thank you for staying. Rest well."


In his arms, you felt a strange peace, like being enveloped in warm water on a deserted island, never wanting to wake up. You felt you had finally found your "home."


As you gradually fell asleep, Rafayel opened his eyes, looking at your face, slightly changed but still the same in spirit. Thousands of years had passed, through countless lifetimes, yet you remained the same—always doing as you pleased, always capable of making him bend to your will.


Even now, Rafayel knew he should leave tonight because many matters awaited him, and he couldn't afford to let his guard down with the palace guards around. But just for this moment, he wanted to stay by your side.


After setting up a barrier around the room, Rafayel extinguished the candle at the head of the bed with a flick of his "fire," then slowly closed his eyes, whispering the words he had kept hidden for so long.


"Goodnight, my beloved bride."


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