The Fake Son Wants to Live [BL]

Jian gritted his teeth as he glared at the man standing before him, who still had that faint, almost mocking smile on his face. He really wanted to tear him apart piece by piece. This fucking bastard... He probably did something to my grandpa. The thought made his chest tighten, and his eyes began to sting again. He quickly wiped them away with the back of his hand, almost angrily, refusing to let himself cry in front of everyone.

Just then, a hand reached toward him, holding out a pristine white handkerchief.

Jian paused and looked up.

The man standing before him was dressed in soft gold, his long blond hair falling all the way to his knees. His handsome face carried a calm and gentle expression, and the golden gem between his brows was shaped like a star, glowing faintly against his skin. There was something warm and peaceful about him, almost as if he carried the light of the sun around him.

"Use this, my child," the man said gently, his voice just as warm as his expression.

Still stunned, Jian slowly accepted the handkerchief.

This man...

He looked at him again.

This is my father.

His real father.

For as long as Jian could remember, a small part of him had always wanted a family. He had wanted a father who would worry about him, a mother who would wait for him to come home, someone who would simply look at him and tell him that he belonged somewhere. But he had never had any of that.

And now, the man he had spent his entire life without was standing right in front of him, looking at him with such a kind and loving expression that Jian suddenly didn’t know what he was supposed to do.

"T-thank you," Jian finally said awkwardly, clutching the handkerchief in his fingers.

The man’s eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled, the happiness on his face impossible to hide.

"You... my son," he whispered.

His hand slowly reached toward Jian’s face.

Jian froze.

For a moment, he didn’t know whether he should move away or let him touch him. But the hand was gentle, and there was no hesitation in the man’s eyes. After a brief pause, Jian remained where he was and allowed his father to place his palm against his cheek.

The man’s fingers trembled slightly as he touched him, as though he still couldn’t quite believe that Jian was really standing there.

"Your eyes..." he murmured softly. "They really resemble your mother’s."

Jian’s expression changed.

At the mention of his mother, his eyes immediately brightened. He gently caught his father’s trembling hand and held it.

"I have a surprise for you."

His father blinked, clearly caught off guard.

"A surprise?"

Jian nodded, and a small grin finally appeared on his face. He tugged him toward the ship.

The guards immediately became vigilant when they saw Jian pulling the Emperor away, but the Emperor simply raised one hand, signaling them to stand down. The guards exchanged glances before reluctantly relaxing, though they continued watching closely.

Jian led his father inside the ship, while the Emperor followed him with a curious, almost doting expression. There was still disbelief in his eyes, as though he was afraid that if he looked away for even a moment, his son would disappear again.

Jian stopped in front of a room and turned around.

"I know you’re going to like this surprise," he said confidently.

The Emperor raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow, his curiosity growing.

"What have you gotten me?" he asked playfully. "I’m very invested now."

As he spoke, he reached out and gently caressed Jian’s face again, still seemingly unable to stop himself from touching his son.

Jian grinned widely.

"You’ll see."

He pushed the door open.

"Come in."

The Emperor followed him inside, but the moment his eyes fell on the figure lying on the bed, he stopped.

He froze completely in the doorway.

His fingers tightened around the door handle.

The metal slowly bent beneath his grip, but he didn’t seem to notice.

His entire attention was fixed on the golden-haired woman lying quietly on the bed.

For several seconds, he simply stared at her.

It was as if... as if the rest of the world had disappeared.

Jian stood beside him, watching his father’s expression change, and his own smile slowly faded into something softer. "I found her in one of the grayling ships. They... they were experimenting on her..." his hands clenched tight. "I got her out of there but she refuses to wake up." he mumbled softly as he gazed at his father again. "is there any healer in your world who can wake her up."

Aureon could barely hear anything anymore.

His eyes remained fixed on the woman lying on the bed.

Clara.

For years, he had forced himself to accept that he might never see her again. There had been no news, no trace of her, nothing that could tell him whether she was alive or dead. At first, he had searched everywhere he could. Then the years passed, and hope slowly became something painful to hold onto.

But now she was here.

She was really here.

His fingers slowly loosened from the door handle. He didn’t even realize how tightly he had been gripping it until the metal creaked beneath his hand.

He took a step forward.

His heart was beating so hard that he could hear it in his ears.

Clara...

She looked almost the same.

Her beautiful golden hair spread across the pillow, her face peaceful as though she had simply fallen asleep after a long day. There were no signs of the years that had passed between them. She looked exactly like the woman he had remembered.

Aureon moved closer until he stood beside the bed. His knees slowly gave way, and he lowered himself beside her.

For a moment, he couldn’t bring himself to touch her.

What if she wasn’t real?

What if this was some cruel dream brought on by years of missing her?

His trembling hand finally reached for hers.

Warm.

The moment he felt that warmth, his breath caught.

She was alive.

"Clara..." His voice came out barely above a whisper.

He carefully wrapped both hands around hers, holding her as though he had been waiting years just for this one moment.

"My beloved Clara."

He lifted her hand and pressed a kiss against the back of it.

His eyes closed.

A tear slipped down his cheek, followed by another.

"My darling... you’re back." His voice trembled as he spoke. "You came back to me."

He had imagined this moment so many times. In some of those dreams, she had walked through the castle doors and smiled at him. Sometimes she had complained that he had taken too long to find her. Other times, she had simply hugged him without saying anything.

But none of those dreams had prepared him for this.

She was finally in front of him, yet she couldn’t open her eyes.

"I waited for you," he whispered. His thumb gently moved across her hand. "I waited so long for you."

His chest tightened.

He had spent years telling himself that he had to remain strong. He was the Emperor. He had a kingdom to protect, people depending on him, and responsibilities he could never abandon.

But in front of Clara, none of that mattered.

He was simply her husband.

The man who had missed her every day.

He carefully stood and leaned down, pulling her gently into his arms. He held her against his chest, feeling the warmth of her body through her clothes.

"I missed you," he murmured into her hair. "I missed you until my heart hurt."

He closed his eyes and held her a little tighter.

"Wake up and look at me."

His voice became softer.

"Just wake up... let me see those beautiful eyes again, my love."

He waited.

Nothing happened.

Clara remained peacefully asleep in his arms.

Aureon lowered his head against hers and stayed there quietly, still holding her hand.

She had finally come back to him.