Stray

‘They’re so close,’ Nemo thought.

Oliver leaned against the light-colored wooden beside. His loose robe exposed his neckline revealing a little of his collarbone. The soft light brown hair was a bit messy, and in the sun, the emerald eyes were clear and calm, looking at him full of trust and comfort.

The other body’s temperature was still stuck to his skin. Nemo clenched his hand into a fist. He was attached to this temperature, but because of this, he must tell everything.

It wasn’t that he hadn’t thought about concealing it.

The idea of hiding it did emerge from the depths of his mind from time to time. After all, only he knew the details of everything that happened in the Church of Silence. As long as he remained silent or claimed to be just a weird wanderer… Nemo had never been as clear as he was now, how much pain it would cause to push away this warmth with his own hands.

It would be better to maintain the status quo ante. As long as he didn’t tell, Oliver would never ask.

But he couldn’t hide it.

He thought that in it of itself was a kind of mistrust. Oliver promised that he wouldn’t be afraid, and if one day, Oliver himself discovered his identity— Or worse, when “Nemo Light” disappeared completely and the real Demon King came into the world, what would his lover think?

That would be hell, and he didn’t want to push Oliver into hell with his own hands because of this warmth he got through deception.