By Zephyria 
The letters that arrived at Pellington Hall from early morning were, even by a cursory glance, well over ten pages.
“How foolish.”
With a light scoff, Aaron held the stationery and perched on the edge of the table. His long legs stretched out diagonally. The tips of his polished Oxford shoes tapped indifferently against the floor. The unfolded letter was packed with writing that looked as if it had been scribbled in a whirlwind. It was evident that the writer had attempted to make it look sophisticated by attaching various famous quotes, but the skill was abysmal.
“What a terrible hand. How can someone write like this?”
His grumbling voice was full of spite. As soon as he read the first line, his neat face crumpled in irritation.
To my longed-for lover.
Strength tightened in the fingertips gripping the paper. His lake-colored eyes furrowed in shock. Aaron bit his lip hard and continued reading. However, his patience did not last long.
My beloved lover. My Aaron, do you know how many days it has already been since we last saw one another? It is agonizing that I must face you—who are colder than the freezing winter wind—only in the even colder salons. When I look upon your heartless face in Westminster, I wonder if you miss me even for a moment.
Every night, my resentment grows without end, wondering why you offer no word, no letter, until I reach out first. More than that, a longing and love deeper still meticulously fill the nights and days between us. Aaron, these sorrowful emotions only grow clearer with each passing day.
Even if the Thames flows between you and me, it shall not stop my love for you. Your golden hair that flows like honey, your jewel-like eyes that embrace all the seas in existence, your soft skin, and even your sweet lips…
“He’s out of his mind…”
Setting down the letter before he could even finish a single page, Aaron walked back to the tea table. His movements as he poured the tea were more sensitive than usual.
“….”
Only after the moderately warmed tea entered his system did stability return. After savoring it for a while longer, Aaron walked back to the desk where he had tossed the letter. It took a considerable amount of time before he picked up the stationery again. His expression as he read slowly repeated a cycle of crumpling and smoothing out.
“He could just notify me of the date and time; why does he ramble on with such useless words?”
The love letters, which were almost too painful to look at, flew into Pellington Hall day after day. When he first read them, he had been so startled by the content that he had instinctively burned them in the fireplace. Months had passed, but these cheap love letters sent by MacQueen Lester were still foreign and uncomfortable to Aaron. As the frequency of their meetings increased, the interval between the letters shortened, and the volume increased proportionally.
“Hmph.”
A scoff finally escaped him. It felt closer to a sneer than a smile. Contrary to his frequent complaints, as time passed, a faint softness began to seep into the way his eyes and hands touched the stationery.
He was a man who put effort into anything if it served his goal.
The will to win the other person’s heart by any means, the effort to pull emotions to their maximum in a short period. Despite looking at him with eyes stained by greed and ambition, he did not hesitate to pour out a decayed sweetness through his words and hands. He was a man who knew neither pride nor shame.
“Well, I suppose he had to go that far to crawl up from the bottom.”
Despite such sarcasm, Aaron Wizfeldon knew well that he would read the love letters, filled with bad handwriting and cheap phrases, until the very end. He also knew that he would be unable to bring himself to burn those letters.
The lovemaking continued until midnight. The deceptive lover, met for the first time in a while, was more passionate, more affectionate, and desired to share each other’s breath, flesh, and warmth more desperately. The whispered sweet nothings, mixed with passion, saw their value tumble to the floor, but neither of them cared.
When he opened his eyes again, it was dawn. Faint moonlight filtered through the gaps in the curtains, but it took a while longer for his eyes to adjust to the darkness.
“….”
His chillingly bright eyes moved slowly to the side. The one who had tormented him all night was sleeping peacefully, having given up one of his arms as a pillow. The rhythmic sound of breathing indicated that the man was in a deep sleep. After observing his condition for a moment, Aaron slowly turned and sat up.
“Ugh…”
A groan escaped him naturally from the pain of pulling his muscles. His hand moved down and naturally felt between his buttocks. He finally frowned at the slightly open entrance and the unpleasant sensation touching his fingertips.
His legs, reflected in the moonlight, were covered in red marks. Most were marks from being gripped, sucked, or bitten. Even after only a few hours of lovemaking, his body was already a mess. Aaron clicked his tongue softly and covered his legs with the blanket again. Even as he rustled quite a bit, the other man remained motionless.
“….”
Though his eyes were closed, he possessed a tall and outstanding appearance. He knew that this man of unknown origin, who was distinguishing himself in the House of Commons, was highly sought after by the ladies of London society. Even though he was engaged to an adopted daughter of the Duke of Devonshire, he likely couldn’t completely block the natural affection that develops between men and women.
Aaron gazed at the sleeping man for a while before slowly leaning his upper body down. As if to embrace him, he pressed his body close and turned his cheek toward the other’s ear. The straight bridge of his nose brushed against him, and his slightly parted lips curved awkwardly. Aaron moved carefully, cautiously, with hesitation.
“Theodore.”
Sweet words emerged through language. It was a tender tone, so far removed from his usual cynical and stiff manner of speaking that it was hard to imagine. And then, magic happened. As if he had heard the sound, the sleeping body moved minutely. Taking advantage of that momentum, a hand full of scars lightly shook the heartless body.
“Theodore.”
The corners of the eyes calling the longed-for name curved slightly. With just that movement, his sharp impression became considerably softer.
Theodore.
The slow yet elegant and precise pronunciation gently traced a fragment of a past that had vanished entirely.
Going back through time, back through memories, regressing through emotions. To a foul, secret space where they lived hidden long ago, known to no one.
To their own little cabin.
“Theo.”
The soft, gentle voice contained a multitude of emotions that Aaron Wizfeldon could not possibly express in words.
“….”
At that moment, the eyes lost in sleep opened. The eyelids opened very slowly, revealing a deep greenery between them.
It was the scenery of Lamdiff, which the two had lost long ago, which had been burned away.
Soon, a death-like silence followed, where not even the trace of a breath could be felt.
“….”
The sleepy green eyes did not shine with their usual brilliance. Perhaps still wandering in a dream, they were hazy and the focus was not clear.
“Theodore.”
The man’s face looked confused, as if lost somewhere in the countless scattered pieces of the past; at times a devilish cruelty appeared, and at others, a childlike innocence. It was a moment where the inner thoughts hidden in the unconscious were laid bare.
“Theo.”
“….”
“…Wake up.”
No matter what emotion flickered past, the only person reflected in those transparent irises was one man.
After blinking for a long time, the man finally reached out his hand after carefully taking in the person before him.
“Master…”
A voice, tight and sunken, called out to the one shining brilliantly before him. Hair became entangled in the tips of his long-reaching fingers. Master. At the title flowing once more from those handsome lips, the breath of full spring finally descended upon Aaron’s face, which had been nothing but cold.
It was a holy success.
Very occasionally, a cruel god played foul tricks on Aaron. In the dawn when everyone slept, his dog would often return to his former self. The first time he noticed it was by chance, but subsequent attempts were clearly intentional.
“…Were you unable to sleep again?”
The man whispered in a voice full of sleep, dominated by the unconscious. Aaron did not know exactly when or in what situation the time in the dream his dog wandered through was. There was no need to bother with such useless facts. With a trembling hand, Aaron grasped the large hand reaching for him. Firm fingers naturally intertwined, binding one another.
“Yes.”
The short, blunt voice was similarly completely sunken. At the grumpy answer, a warm sigh mixed with laughter poured over the crown of his head.
“You still cannot sleep.”
“A little.”
The tip of his nose tingled. His eyes felt hot, as if they had been held over a fire. It was a truly strange sensation. The sleep-drunk man pulled Aaron, who had been sitting in an awkward position, completely into his embrace.
“What will you do in the morning…”
Instead of answering, Aaron slowly rubbed his head against the man’s chest. At that clumsy reaction, the dog laughed softly, his face still submerged in sleep. The arrogant touch of stroking and digging through his hair became even more tender.
“I wonder.”
Aaron also stroked the firm body with a cautious touch. Though it was clearly the same person, he smelled different. A hot sensation gathered around his eyes again. It was strange. To avoid the unfamiliar sensation arising within, Aaron burrowed deeper into MacQueen’s embrace. He didn’t want to know. He didn’t want to realize.
“It is because… you smoke Leaf-Cut Tobacco every day… that this happens…”
“Yes.”
“You must cut back… your headaches are severe…”
“…Yes.”
The speed of the patting on his back gradually slowed. It was an attempt to return to sleep. Aaron quickly wrapped his arms around the dog’s waist and lifted his head. Eyes full of nothing but warmth and affection were looking down at him tenderly. Aaron? A pleasant, low voice called him.
“Shall I bring the mat?”
That old, shabby thing.
At the words reminding him of memories buried long ago, his cheeks finally began to dampen. He was a truly foul dog.
“No.”
Muttering heavily, heavily, Aaron shook his head.
“I lost it.”
“Oh dear, where?”
“…I don’t know.”
After regaining consciousness, he had rushed first to where the cabin had been, but in that blackened, burned place, there was nothing left of the dog.
“I can just make you another one…”
“…I can’t anymore.”
“Losing one does not mean everything is over. It will take time… but it is not difficult. So please do not be so depressed.”
“….”
The dog smiled softly, with a face that seemed to say he couldn’t help his scatterbrained master. Though it was a simple smile, the precarious soul quickly crumbled.
You can no longer make it.
You can no longer cook for me.
You can no longer make me a mat with your clumsy skill.
“Next time… you must not lose it.”
“….”
“Promise me…”
Instead of an answer, Aaron softly pressed his lips against the other’s. Through the slightly open gap, hot tongues entwined. Dense moans filled the bedroom. It was an act grounded in a yearning and an undisguised affection for one another.
“Aaron…”
The man, identical to the dog who existed only in memory, called him.
“Yes.”
Despite the effort, Aaron willingly answered.
“Aaron…”
He called again. It was still a voice walking through a dream. Where are you wandering now? Where is the place you are? A place that could neither be found nor reached.
“Yes.”
Aaron nodded again. His chest hurt terribly, but he brushed it off as if it were nothing.
“…Aaron.”
The hot emotion contained in the words broke apart. The touch carefully cupping his cheek, the lips pouring cautiously over his forehead and eyelids, the whispers mixed with worry and concern—there was no lie anywhere.
“Please don’t be sick.”
“….”
“Please don’t cry.”
The tender whispers seeped over Aaron’s eyelids, into his ears, onto his lips, and across his cheeks. The hand wiping his wet cheeks was as tender and soft as down. Affection was deeply embedded in every small gesture.
“Don’t cry. Okay?”
The gentle, soothing consolation embraced his thorn-covered body.
My dog.
You were my dog, trapped in that forest, unable to come out.
“My Aaron… my… master…”
The arms embracing him tightened. The man called his lover repeatedly with a face that looked as if he couldn’t bear how lovely he was.
“I love you.”
“….”
“I love you…”
At that sorrowful, affectionate, and sometimes desperate calling, Aaron quietly wrapped his arms around the foolish dog’s back. He felt warmth. It was the warmth he had lost long ago. For a long time, Aaron held his breath and enjoyed the remaining time that was not a lie. Sobbing without even making a sound was the extent of the emotion he showed.
When the brilliant sun rose in the morning, the memories would vanish behind the darkness and the emotions would plummet. You will, once again, struggle to despise me and strangle me. Therefore, this dream was enough.
The secret night known only to one person was passing by.
✧ ✧ ✧
His whole body was languid thanks to another round of rolling around since morning. Even though he acted half-heartedly out of laziness, the other clung tenaciously, rubbing all over his body until he was completely exhausted. As he lay there, lacking even the energy to open his eyes, something suddenly blocked Aaron’s vision.
“What is this?”
“It is tea made from dried top-grade herbs.”
“Dried herb tea?”
“Yes. Not ordinary leaves, but tea leaves aged for a long time. It’s an item that came from Daecheong, and the flavor is better than ordinary black tea leaves. Several types of leaves are mixed in. They say the longer you steep it, the better the effect on insomnia, so you can instruct the servants to have you drink it every day before sleep.”
Because he insisted on pressing it into his hand even though he said he didn’t want it, Aaron had to check the contents. Inside the envelope were several tin cans decorated with sophisticated ornaments. As explained, they were tea leaves of various kinds. The scent was strong, and in many ways, it was far from his taste.
“I don’t like tea that much.”
“Aaron.”
As soon as he spoke honestly, the other’s expression immediately crumpled. It was an arrogant reaction, but Aaron only let out a chuckle. He had thought the man was skilled at acting, but recently, the boundaries of that judgment had often blurred. Especially when he wore a seriously worried expression like this.
“Drink it even if you don’t like it. Don’t you just take medicine, saying your head hurts every day or that you can’t sleep? No matter how good the medicine is, a tolerance develops. It might work with just a little at first, but eventually, there is a limit.”
“Drinking this kind of tea isn’t the solution to the problem.”
“I know it’s a side effect of opium.”
The tone felt desperate rather than sarcastic. Aaron gazed at the man who rarely bent his stubbornness. Nowhere could he see a trace of the person who had briefly returned to him last night.
Though the body and face were the same, they were by no means the same soul. Nevertheless, the sparse emotions gathered in those deep green eyes resembled the real thing so much that they sometimes touched a fragment of someone suspicious and sensitive.
“I know. It must be the opium that I produced and I sold.”
“….”
“Because I regret it thousands of times a day every time I see your face, please just take it.”
Long fingers wrapped around his wrist and pulled. At the touch that felt almost adamant, a minute crack appeared on his delicately drawn face. The speed at which memories returned was pressing down on Aaron every moment at an unbearable level.
“Master. I wish you wouldn’t smoke that drug.”
“I truly thought you had died.”
“Please, please never smoke it again.”
The past, which he thought he had killed and burned away, tended to resurface at such unprepared times. Instead of acting cold as usual, Aaron spent a long time composing his disordered emotions.
“…Give it here.”
The tone was extremely dry, but it was impossible to perfectly hide the trembling. Suppressing the suffocating sensation, Aaron brushed back his hair, pretending it was nothing.
“You must drink it consistently.”
“I know.”
“Don’t just say it.”
The voice of the man, who had finally achieved his goal, had become considerably calmer with satisfaction. Only when Aaron nodded silently did he smile brightly. For someone who had bought a title with money, he was a truly arrogant fellow. Too lazy to even throw a fit, Aaron entrusted his body to the one embracing him roughly from behind.
“Don’t be sick anywhere.”
“….”
“Even the smallest pain you feel becomes agony to me. Aaron, you have a tendency to be too harsh on yourself.”
“….”
“I love you.”
For some reason, finding it hard to meet his eyes, Aaron leaned his back against MacQueen’s chest, pretending to be indifferent.
“You have a tendency to say those words too easily.”
“Do you hate it because of that?”
A low laugh whispered. At the pain of his chest tightening, Aaron did not answer and instead rubbed his cheek.
“I love you.”
A heart harboring a clumsy heat beat vividly.
It was a pulse that existed somewhere on the blurred boundary between lies and truth. Before long, a fervent kiss followed.
“Stop it.”
Aaron wanted to silence the stream of sweet, venomous whispers pouring over him.
“I love you. Sincerely…”
“I told you to stop.”
“Because if I don’t say it like this, you won’t believe me.”
“….”
He wanted to crush those ears. He wanted to slash that brazen, gorgeous face. He wanted to shove a pistol into the mouth of this man, who possessed nothing but deception and filthy desire, and pull the trigger.
“I love you sincerely, Aaron.”
If only he could.
Then you could remain as my dog, no longer committing dirty and base sins.
Wasn’t the opium staining your hands already enough to drag me down into hell?
Clinging to his fading consciousness, Aaron willingly spread his legs for the rogue. The sweet and lethal kiss fell upon the world like a dry rain in the deep night. I love you. The burning confession, consisting of nothing but lies, did as well.
An indescribably violent and painful wave surged over him.