Cries of Salvation (BL)

With one hand placed on the signature curve of the pavilion's door frame, Haon stood with a nervous pit in his stomach. Like the world was turning its back on him in real time. The cold wood pressed into his palm, while tension rose high in his body, running wild. It spread through each and every muscle like a restless wildfire, burning from the base of his spine all the way to the tips of his fingers.

Unintentionally, his ears picked up the conversation seeping out of the room, being somewhat understandable, although not fully clear. The way those men spoke was gentlemanly and full of graceful manners, a far cry from every other guest that had passed through this place. Their words rolled smoothly, like they were reading from a well-rehearsed script. In the end, Haon knew they were anything but refined.

His mind struggled to find a way out of this forthcoming situation, despite knowing there wasn't any, and his grip on the handle tightened until his knuckles ached. He didn't have it in him to open the door…

Yet, he knew this couldn't be delayed forever. The moment would arrive whether he invited it or not. So, after taking a few more deep breaths to compose himself and suppressing the tremble that threatened to rise in his hands, he slid the door open with resolve.

[ . . . ]

Conversation paused mid-sentence, replaced by an uncomfortable silence. Haon could feel their invasive stares on him, pressing in from all sides, prickling like needles against his skin.

Then came the snickers.

"Oh. Look who is finally here!"

"Still stiff, I see."

"Look at those pale hands. I wonder how it'll feel if he stroked me with them. I heard Hwarins are damn good since they're natural whores."

"Pfft–too bad Noha keeps him monopolised. But I do want to have a taste of that subtle skin."

"…"

Gone were the polite mannerisms they had been showing each other just a minute ago. Left in their place were all kinds of mocking words, flung at Haon from left and right like rotten fruit. The stench of them stuck even if he pretended not to notice.

Still, Haon refused to pay them any mind. His lips held firm, and not a single muscle twitched, deciding he wouldn't give them the satisfaction they desired. He plainly made his way across the room to search for his place to sit, relying on the familiar patterns of memory.

But it wasn't all smooth sailing. Haon almost tripped on a hard object… maybe the table? He couldn't quite tell, but his leg had started to throb in pain, a dull ache radiating beneath the fabric.

How strange.

The table wasn't in its usual position, like someone had moved it on purpose, expecting something like this to happen. And right on cue, the jeers of the noblemen continued on with Haon's latest fumble.

Truely, they must've been bored, even with the company of the best courtesan. Or they simply liked watching the blind man squirm uncomfortably under their perverse gaze. Either way, it must've been one of those two.

However. Haon remained strangely distracted in the midst of everything.

He realised he still hadn't heard that gruff voice of Naho, even though his looming presence could be viscerally felt, along with those cold and intense stares Haon had become far too familiar with.

Left to his own means, Haon turned to his instincts and awareness to guide the way, moving with one slow step and another. Until…

He stopped precisely two steps away from a man adorned in black, with splashes of white and red along the linings of his duskswept robe. The clink of glass brushing against his ring betrayed nothing but glacial indifference. Dark ruby eyes scanned over Haon like he was an interesting object to be studied. And though Haon couldn't see it, he could feel the weight of that gaze, colder than winter air.

"Impressive."

Someone from the back mocked Haon with derision, as if amused by a circus act.

"Are you even blind? I'm starting to have my doubts."

Another chimed in, "Can we see those golden eyes? I want to check for myself if the 'eyes of a Hwarin' are as enchanting as the rumours make them out to be. Can you lure me in?? Huh?"

Listening to the taunting chorus, Haon stood unaffected, at least outwardly. His face remained calm, allowing them to continue their insults like children pressing fingers to a glass wall.

"Look at him trying to act like he can't hear us," they snickered amongst themselves, the sound slick and sly.

Their laughter was joined by the rehearsed giggles of the courtesans nearby, who were busy flattering the valuable guests… perhaps for coin. Perhaps for their own safety.

But it was a good thing that none of these stunts mattered to Haon. He wasn't one to break down in spirit just because of reckless talk– as long as they didn't lay a hand on him, he could endure it.

Just then, the hand hidden beneath his sleeve instinctively clenched, fingers biting into his palm when he heard the gruff voice for the first time since entering the room.

"Sit down."

That was all the shadowy man said. Just two words. But his voice carried both magnetism and menace, heavy like stone and sharp as glass. To Haon's ears, it was as commanding as thunder breaking across a silent field.

Hiding his fears behind a neutral mask, Haon reluctantly followed the order and bent his knees to sit beside the man. But before his knees could even brush the surface of the cushion, his arm was seized with a burning heat.

He was then harshly yanked toward a solid chest, the motion punctuated by a disgruntled 'tsk.'

"Not there."

"…"

Thump-

Ignoring the way his heart had nearly leapt into his throat from the suddenness of the movement, Haon simply gave a curt nod in return.

He let himself be pulled into the embrace of steeled arms, his entire back firmly pressed against a body far too warm and uncharted to ignore.

Meanwhile, the room went unusually quiet.

Even the jeers that had erupted after Haon's earlier stumble didn't follow this time. As no one in their right mind dared to provoke the aristocratic man who sat like he owned the place… and he did, in many ways. The kingdom and the beautiful blind musician in his arms.