POV: Ren – Evening, My Home
The faint hum of the evening settled over the house as the front door clicked open. The sharp, familiar sound of footsteps followed—steady and assured. My parents had returned. Astraea, too, was with them, her silver hair catching the last rays of sunlight as she stepped through the doorway.
Mother moved straight to the kitchen, her presence filling the room as she busied herself with preparations for dinner. The soft clatter of pots and pans echoed quietly, a familiar rhythm that usually grounded me, but today it only heightened the tension crawling under my skin.
Astraea lingered near the hallway, eyes sharp, almost predatory. Her gaze caught mine and held it with unsettling intensity. When Mother asked me about my day, I answered with practiced ease, careful to keep my voice light and steady. But Astraea's quiet curiosity was far from satisfied.
"So," she said, leaning casually against the doorframe, "Who was that girl who came to see you today? The one carrying the schoolbag." Her tone was casual, but there was a dangerous edge beneath her words.
I froze for a moment, then gave a small, guarded smile. "Just a friend from school. We were studying." I kept my voice soft, the mask of innocence slipping perfectly into place. "Nothing more."
Astraea's eyes flickered. "Studying, huh? Interesting friend, then. Must be special for you to invite her here."
Before I could respond, my father's voice cut through the growing silence. "Ren, you're a couple with Airi. You shouldn't be bringing other girls here." His tone was sharp, disapproving. "We raised you better than that."
Mother nodded, her expression stern as she joined the conversation. "It's disrespectful to Airi and to yourself. You need to be careful. Don't forget what you promised."
I swallowed hard, the walls closing in. I was supposed to be the perfect, obedient son—the shy, kind boy who never caused trouble. "She's just a friend," I repeated softly, eyes downcast. "We were only studying. I'm not doing anything wrong."
But their disapproval was palpable. Astraea's gaze lingered on me longer, searching for a crack in my facade.
Later, after dinner, I retreated to my room, the weight of their words pressing down on my chest. Tears pricked my eyes—not from fear, but from the exhaustion of carrying so many masks at once. I told myself it was nothing—just a harmless friendship—but even that felt like a betrayal to the world I'd carefully constructed.
Then came a knock at the door. Astraea's voice, low and hesitant. "Ren… Can I come in?"
I didn't answer immediately, but she entered anyway, closing the door softly behind her. The room grew colder. She sat beside me on the bed, close enough that I could feel the warmth of her breath, the scent of jasmine lingering around her.
"Why won't you tell me more about her?" she asked, voice almost a whisper.
I shook my head, avoiding her eyes.
Her fingers brushed against my cheek, tender but insistent. "You can trust me."
The moment stretched, fragile and dangerous.
Then, without warning, Astraea's lips found mine—soft, demanding, and intoxicating. I tried to pull away, but my body betrayed me, responding to the warmth, the urgency.
When we broke apart, my heart pounded in my chest. I struggled to speak, to find the words that would keep her from pushing further.
"Her name is Minako," I confessed, voice barely above a whisper. "She's a classmate… She's been asking questions."
Astraea's eyes shone with something unreadable. "Questions can be dangerous, Ren. You have to be careful who you let close."
I nodded silently, already knowing how true that was.
Her name was a whisper between us.
"Minako," I said again, as if the name alone could explain everything. I didn't want to look Astraea in the eyes—not with her this close, not with that storm behind her gaze.
She didn't move.
Didn't speak.
She just watched me.
Then came her voice—velvet wrapped around glass. "You let her into your house."
I nodded once, slow. "To study."
"She sat where I sit." Her hand grazed the bedsheets. "Breathed the same air I breathe." Her tone sharpened. "Touched the same floor I walk on."
I said nothing. Silence was safer. But Astraea was never satisfied with silence.
She reached out, fingers trailing along my collarbone with a kind of reverence. "She doesn't know you. Not like I do."
"Astraea…" My voice trembled more than I wanted it to.
"Do you know how hard it is for me?" she whispered, her forehead leaning against mine. "Pretending I'm just your childhood friend… when I remember everything. Every look. Every breath. Every time you smiled at me before the others even existed."
Her words wrapped around my ribs, constricting.
"I never stopped loving you," she said. "Even when you buried yourself behind that mask. Even when you stopped choosing me."
She kissed me again.
This time, it wasn't soft. It wasn't pleading. It was a claim.
I didn't stop her.
Her fingers slid under my shirt, tracing the lines of muscle I never showed to the world. My heart pounded. Not with fear, but something far more dangerous. Far more familiar.
I had kissed girls before. Played the part. Even allowed Airi a moment of closeness. But this—this wasn't affection.
This was worship.
"You pretend to be pure," Astraea murmured against my lips. "But I know better. I've seen what lies beneath. The goddesses worship you. That girl down below adores you. But none of them... none of them knew you first."
I didn't move as her weight settled over me, her hands trailing fire across my skin.
"I remember the boy who cried alone in the dark. The boy who built his kingdom in silence. I watched you become a god, and I still wanted you."
I closed my eyes, overwhelmed—not by her touch, but by the truth behind it. Astraea was dangerous. Obsessive. She had always loved me in ways that scorched the edges of sanity. But there was no deceit in her. Only hunger.
"I can't stop," she said, voice breaking. "I'll never stop."
Her lips claimed mine again—fiercer, possessive. My breath hitched, my mind fractured beneath the pressure. I should have pulled away. Told her to stop.
But I didn't.
Because for once, I didn't want to be the mask.
I didn't want to be the quiet boy everyone believed I was.
I wanted to be touched like a god, worshipped like a man.
Her hands trembled as they slipped under the fabric of my shirt, drawing it over my head with aching slowness. Her touch was reverent, but urgent—like someone clinging to a memory that could disappear at any second.
I whispered her name. Once.
And then I surrendered.
Her lips found mine again, hungry and demanding. Her hands roamed my body, exploring every inch of skin as if committing it to memory. I could feel her heartbeat, rapid and wild, matching the rhythm of my own. Her breath hitched as she straddled me, her eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that made my heart race.
"Astraea," I whispered, my voice hoarse with desire.
She smiled, a slow, seductive curve of her lips. "Yes?"
I reached up, cupping her face in my hands. "I want you."
Her eyes fluttered closed, and she leaned into my touch. "You have me," she murmured. "You always have."
Her hands moved to my pants, deftly unbuttoning them and pushing them down. I kicked them off, my body aching with need. She straddled me again, her hands on my chest, her eyes never leaving mine. She lowered herself onto me, a soft gasp escaping her lips as she took me in.
"Ahhh," she moaned, her head falling back. "You feel so good."
I gripped her hips, my fingers digging into her soft flesh. She began to move, her body undulating in a rhythm that was both primal and divine. The room filled with the sounds of our lovemaking—her moans, my grunts, the slick sound of our bodies coming together.
"Astraea," I gasped, my hands moving to her breasts, teasing her nipples. "You're so beautiful."
She smiled down at me, her eyes glazed with pleasure. "And you're mine," she said, her voice a low purr. "All mine."
Her movements became more frantic, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. I could feel her tightening around me, her body on the edge of release. I reached up, my thumb finding her clit, and she cried out, her body convulsing as she came.
"Ahhh, ahhh, I... I... ammmm. cummmming!" she screamed, her voice echoing through the room.
I couldn't hold back any longer. With a final thrust, I ejaculated inside her, my body shuddering with the force of my orgasm. She collapsed onto my chest, her body slick with sweat, her breath coming in ragged gasps.
But we weren't done. Not by a long shot. Her body was insatiable, and mine matched her fervor. We moved together again, our bodies slick with sweat, our breaths mingling. The room was filled with the scent of jasmine and sex, the air thick with our desire.
She rode me harder this time, her body slamming down onto mine with a force that made the bed shake. I could feel her tightening around me again, her body on the edge of another release. I reached up, my hands gripping her hips, helping her move faster, deeper.
"Ahhh, ahhh, I... I... ammmm. cummmming!" she screamed again, her body convulsing around me.
I followed her over the edge, my body shuddering as I ejaculated inside her once more. She collapsed onto my chest, her body trembling with the aftershocks of her orgasm.
We lay there for a long time, our bodies entwined, our breaths slowly returning to normal. I could feel her heartbeat, steady and strong, matching the rhythm of my own. Her body was slick with sweat, and I could feel the warmth of my cum dripping from her pussy, a testament to our passionate lovemaking.
When I opened my eyes, the room was dark. The air was thick with warmth and the scent of jasmine and sweat. Astraea lay beside me, her silver hair fanned across the pillow, her body curled into mine like she belonged there. Her chest rose and fell slowly—finally asleep.
Her pussy was still dripping with my cum, the evidence of our night of passion glistening on her thighs. I watched her for a long time, emotion tangled in my throat.
And for a moment, I forgot the empire.
Forgot Minako.
Forgot the sigil burned into the walls of my hidden world.
For one night, I wasn't the emperor.
I was just a boy.
And she… was the one who had never stopped waiting.