The second semester rolled in like a familiar tide. A new season, a new rhythm, yet some things remained steadfast. The morning light spilled through the apartment windows as Nox and Leo slipped into their daily rituals, their movements in sync like clockwork. Nox's wound had finally healed. The faint scar across his chest was the only reminder of that night—the one Leo still hadn't fully forgiven him for.
Workout began at 5 AM sharp. Nox was relentless now, making up for the time lost in recovery. Leo kept pace, grumbling but following through. They sparred like wolves, breathless and bruised, then shared quiet moments over coffee. The morning was muscle aches, caffeine, and silent companionship.
College came next—lectures, assignments, pretending they were just two tired students trying to survive another semester. Then came the company. Their mafia-run research firm buzzed with new machinery, engineers, and loyal subordinates. Everything was in motion.
But that day—that day was not routine.
They arrived at the D'en, a private underground meeting lounge dressed like an old-world library. The dim gold lighting flickered against leather armchairs and dark mahogany shelves. Inside sat Dominik, Leo's father each watching in eerie silence.
"They're waiting," Dominik said without looking back.
The reason was revealed quickly: Simon, the Serpent Territory boss, was kneeling. A gun pressed against the back of his head, held by his own right-hand man. A man that looked too familiar, a scene that had been repeated to many times
Nox froze.
Something inside him cracked—no, snapped.
Memories hit like an avalanche. Not just flashes—they flooded. Blood-stained corridors. Echoes of gunfire. Orders barked into the night. Chains. A muzzle. Violet eyes reflected in a broken mirror.
Her breath hitched. Her vision blurred.
The mask slipped.
He staggered forward, trembling. Her mind screamed, "aron "
Before anyone could react, Nox launched at the traitorous right-hand man. His fist collided with bone. Again. Again. The sickening crunch of skull breaking under knuckle echoed in the chamber.
Simon screamed. Blood sprayed. Leo shouted his name, rushing forward.
"Nox! NOX!"
But Nox didn't hear him.
Fists rained down like a storm, driven by vengeance and buried pain. His knuckles split. Blood covered both their faces.
Leo reached him. Dropped to his knees.
"Nox… Nox, please."
Still, nothing.
He did the only thing left.
He pulled him into a tight embrace, ignoring the blood, the trembling.
"Nox. Nox. Nox," he whispered again and again, voice cracking.
Nox twitched.
Leo placed both hands on his cheeks, lifting his head gently.
His violet eyes were soaked red, veins visible, tears mixing with blood. He was shaking violently. Leo's heart squeezed.
"Come back to me. Please."
And then—he kissed him.
It wasn't planned. It wasn't gentle.
It was grounding.
A shock of lightning between shattered souls.
Nox responded slowly. Lips trembling. Breath catching. The world stopped for a second.
And then he exhaled.
The shaking ebbed. The tide receded. The crimson storm inside him quieted.
In the background, Dominik had already yanked Simon away with the help of two guards. He turned to Leo's father and smacked his arm, grinning.
"Finally."
The old man chuckled, then nodded. "Took them long enough."
Dominik looked back at the pair still on the ground.
"Simon You don't know how long we've been waiting for that."
The ex-boss, arms crossed, exhaled like he'd just let go of a decades-long breath. "Too long."
Everything had changed. And it all started with a cracked skull, a broken mask, and a kiss soaked in blood and redemption.