Time, Xion realized, was a funny thing. Nothing seemed to change, and yet, everything could shift in a single breath.
That thought lingered as he stood in a dressing room surrounded by bustling tailors.
He didn't know when it had started, this aching desire to be held in Darius' arms. But he was certain of one thing now: he wanted to see those cold, terrifying eyes melt into softness when they looked at him.
When he was young, he wanted to be loved, to hear the honeyed words drip from his parents' lips. He had craved it more than the wish to live. But it never became a reality.
Now, with the way Darius would look at him, with such an adoring gaze, it always managed to rush his senses with a thrill of pleasure.
Xion had fallen head over heels for Darius, and it had started to scare him.
