Chapter 120: The reunion
"H-Hael?" Ceremus called, his voice wavering.
His smile deepened. "Yes. I am back." He said softly. Ceremus felt something within him break when he heard Hael's voice.
It had been so long since the last time he heard it; he had forgotten how beautiful it sounded—like music to his ears.
Tears flooded his eyes as he met his gaze, gently rolling down his cheeks to his surprise. He had shed a tear in a long time, and yet here he was, overtaken with emotion. Ceremus let out a shaky breath, his hand gripping Hael's tighter as if letting go would cause the man to disappear before his very eyes. "You're awake..." he murmured, his voice so soft it was barely perceivable. "You're really awake."
Hael's gaze softened as he studied the man before him. Exhaustion clung to his features, and he had lost significant weight since the last time he had seen him. Though he remained the beautiful man he remembered, Hael could tell he had suffered as well. Looking at his now tear-stained face broke his heart.
"I'm sorry for leaving you on your own for so long," his voice was quiet, yet carrying a flood of assurance. "But I'm back and don't intend on ever leaving you again."
Ceremus exhaled, pressing his forehead against Hael's hand, his body trembling ever so slightly. He had prepared himself for the worst. He had braced for the possibility that the plant might not work, that he would never hear Hael's voice again. And yet, against all odds, here he was. Alive. Breathing. Looking at him like no time had passed at all.
Hael, despite his lingering weakness, reached out with his free hand, his fingers brushing over the damp trail of tears on Ceremus' face. "You're crying," he remarked, his smile tinged with something unreadable.
Ceremus pulled back slightly, blinking as if only now realizing it himself. He let out a quiet, breathy laugh—half disbelief, half relief. "I suppose I am...how strange."
Silence fell between them, and the king couldn't help thinking back to the last words Hael had spoken to him before losing consciousness. He had pondered those words for a long time, silently deciding how he should respond in the off chance he got to see Hael alive and well again. Those words had lingered in his mind, stuck at the tip of his tongue yet unable to be expressed out loud. Even in the many letters he had written about Hael—mostly for himself, he couldn't bring himself to say those three words.
But he knew he could no longer keep these feelings to himself, especially not with the threat of losing the one he loved still looming at every turn. The life of a warrior was unpredictable, as it was predictable. Anything could happen at any given time. Ceremus had always feared starting something with Hael when there was the risk of it never even working out in the end. But he knew his hesitations would only bring him more misery.