The night air was crisp but gentle, carrying the faint scent of wildflowers from the park and the soft hum of cicadas in the distance. William and Julius sat on a grassy hillside overlooking the city, the glow of Seoul’s lights stretching out before them like a blanket of stars. 

It was a quiet evening, the kind that invited reflection, where words often gave way to the unspoken.

William leaned back, propping himself on his elbows as he gazed at the skyline. His chest felt lighter than usual, the ache of Zeus’s curse momentarily dulled by the presence of Julius beside him. This was where he felt most at peace—by Julius’s side, sharing silences that felt fuller than any conversation.

“You’ve made me come here more often,” Julius said suddenly, breaking the stillness.

William glanced at him, tilting his head. “What do you mean?”

Julius shrugged, his eyes fixed on the city lights. “The park. The river. The studio. It’s like... I see these places differently now. They used to feel so empty, but now... I don’t know. They feel alive.”

The words struck William like a gentle but persistent wave. He sat up, his expression softening. “Maybe it’s not the places that have changed. Maybe it’s you.”

Julius chuckled, a faint sound that carried a hint of disbelief. “Maybe,” he said, glancing at William. “Or maybe it’s because of you.”

William’s breath caught, his heart skipping a beat. He opened his mouth to respond, but the words refused to form. Instead, he found himself captivated by the way Julius looked at him—his dark eyes steady, filled with a quiet intensity that made William’s pulse race.

“William,” Julius said, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant. “You... you make me feel like I’m not just existing anymore. Like I’m living.”

William’s chest tightened, an ache blooming in his heart that was both beautiful and unbearable. He wanted to say something, to tell Julius how much those words meant to him, but his voice was caught in his throat.

And then Julius leaned closer.

It was a hesitant movement, as though he were testing, waiting for William to pull away. But William didn’t. He couldn’t. He was frozen in place, his heart pounding as Julius’s face drew nearer, the warmth of his breath brushing against his skin.

When their lips met, the world seemed to fall away.

It was soft at first, a tentative touch that quickly deepened into something more. William’s eyes fluttered closed as he let himself be consumed by the moment, his hands trembling as they moved to rest lightly on Julius’s shoulders. There was no urgency, no desperation—only the quiet, profound connection of two souls meeting in a way words could never capture.

William had witnessed countless kisses in his time as the god of love, but nothing could have prepared him for this. This was raw, unfiltered, real. For the first time, he felt what it was to love and to be loved, not as a god, but as a man. It was intoxicating, overwhelming, and utterly perfect.

When they finally pulled apart, their foreheads rested against each other, their breaths mingling in the cool night air. Julius’s eyes searched William’s, his expression unguarded and vulnerable.

“I didn’t plan to do that,” Julius admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “But... I couldn’t not. You... you make me feel things I thought I’d forgotten.”

William’s throat tightened as tears pricked the corners of his eyes. He smiled faintly, his voice trembling as he replied, “You have no idea how much that means to me.”

For a moment, they sat in silence, the weight of the moment sinking in. William’s heart ached with the knowledge of how fleeting this was, how limited their time together would be. But he pushed the thought aside, determined to hold onto this moment for as long as he could.

Julius pulled back slightly, his hand reaching up to cup William’s cheek. “You’re... different, William. I don’t know what it is, but you make everything feel brighter. Like there’s more to life than just pain.”

William swallowed hard, his chest burning with a mix of joy and sorrow. He wanted to tell Julius the truth, to lay bare the secrets that weighed so heavily on his heart. But he couldn’t. Not yet.

Instead, he leaned into Julius’s touch, closing his eyes as he whispered, “You make me feel alive.”

And in that moment, it was true. For the first time in his long existence, William felt truly, painfully alive.

As they sat together under the stars, their hands entwined, William allowed himself to hope—if only for a fleeting moment—that love might be enough to conquer the shadows looming over them.