Han Li didn’t sleep this time in Graham’s car. He was awake the entire ride. “Home,” he grumbled, “I want to go home.”

“Do you have supplies at your home to treat your wounds?” Graham’s voice was cold and surgical and Han Li decided he liked the ambient sound of driving in the background more. If only Graham was as reckless as he usually was behind the wheel, then Han Li could have been more at ease.

As it stood—

Well.

He had some basic first aid stuff at his place. So he lied while staring out the car window, “Yeah, I do.”

“Your healing capabilities as a halfbreed is monumentally superior to that of a normal person’s. But it does not mean that you are invulnerable,” Graham lectured. “Do you wish to go to the Sanctuary or mine?”

And Han Li had no more fight left in him. “Your place I guess.”

…

Twilight touched the sky and it was Monday already. Han Li had a feeling he wasn’t going to make it to class, stuck inside the confines of Graham’s penthouse while the Saint of Eternity fussed over his wounds. He was light-headed but also painfully awake and aware, his head blaring with something awful. 

After Graham so gently forced his demon powers to recede, Han Li’s appearance was mostly back to his human form. His fangs still caught his bottom lip and his pupils went vertical when the lighting was too bright, but aside from that, he seemed normal. 

Which meant his regenerative powers were also slowed. Han Li didn’t really want to think about the consequences of that. The pain was mind-numbing and almost welcome, it drew him away from the churning emotions that had taken him on the ride of his life.

Seriously, he was exhausted and he just wanted to sleep. Graham’s couch was looking like a great place to crash because he didn’t have the energy to move or be moved. When the Saint of Eternity finally wrapped the last piece of hemp around his waist, Han Li collapsed like a puppet without strings, snuggling into the cushions beneath him despite the searing ache in his flesh and bones. He didn’t care and was ready for sleep. For once he had nothing to say.

But he was rudely jostled awake, flailing as something slipped over his head.

“Don’t move.”

It was terrifying how much Han Li trusted that voice, despite it being so undeserving of trust. An oversize shirt was slipped over his head. When Han Li noticed the sweat pants hanging off of Graham’s forearm, he reached for it. “I can put it on myself.”

But Graham didn’t listen at all, maneuvering out of Han Li’s attempt and slipped them over his feet.

He whined but ultimately did not put up a fight. “Not even going to let me keep the last bit of my dignity?”

Graham looked up with that sharp piercing eyes of his and Han Li wanted to look away but couldn’t. There was an odd tension in the air, an emotion that Han Li couldn’t quite put a name to but it drew goosebumps into Han Li’s skin and made him hold his breath. Graham spoke, “There is nothing for you to be ashamed about.”

“Easy for you to say,” Han Li shot, his tone bitter.

A sigh. Graham relented and gave Han Li the sweat pants to put on himself. “Try not to aggravate your wounds too much.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Han Li bit back as he maneuvered his legs into the sweatpants that were at least two sizes too large for him.

“I will take you upstairs now.” The Saint of Eternity wasted no time once Han Li was dressed.

Han Li held out a hand to Graham’s chest, halting his approach. “Wait. My phone’s dead… Can I… see the message you sent to me? There’s something I want to make sure.”

The Saint of Eternity paused and Han Li hated how stoic his expression was. But he couldn’t look away. “…If I do as you ask, will you return the favor?”

“And what?” he sneered, “Act like a good little boy and follow you upstairs obediently?”

“Yes.”

“Fine.” He held out his hand, flexing his fingers for good measure. “Your phone, please.”

It took a moment for Graham to actually unlock his phone and Han Li hated how watching the Saint of Eternity struggle with technology felt endearing. So he looked away and waited. 

“Here.” The phone was plopped into his hand, the screen opened to a familiar chat. The last one sent was long and obnoxiously filled the screen. More alarming however was…

“Dude. What’s wrong with your phone?”

“…? I am unsure what you’re referring to. The device is not damaged.”

“Dude. Your text is huge,” a chuckle escaped despite his efforts to stifle it. Seriously, this was all so unfair. The large text that had to be something like a font 40 was so absurd and obnoxious that Han Li had a hard time concentrating at first.

“…Small text is bad for your eyes.” Graham folded his arms over his chest. It was dark in the apartment, only the lamp in the corner of the expansive living room was turned on.

Han Li raised a brow, “Don’t tell me you have grandfather eyesight too.” 

“…No such thing.”

The lull of casual chatter lasted only a moment. Because as Han Li’s eyes scanned through the giant font on Graham’s phone screen, his stomach sank further and further as he went along.

Familiar words tugged at him, caused emotion to flare up; except this time he didn’t feel anger and only guilt. 

[ There has been an update on the commission. I need you to make due caution; the rating has changed. I have received information that the primary target may have consumed the blood of a sorcerer. Please make the necessary preparations to deal with the situation appropriately and do not engage with the threat unless absolutely required. There is no need to put yourself in unnecessary danger. In fact, I implore you to not act until I have returned to town. Stay safe, Han Li. ]

Oh, haha, Han Li had truly been a fucking idiot this entire time. He snickered at himself and handed the phone back. The bite of self-hatred was visceral in nature, terrible and unrelenting. “I didn’t know you were out of town,” Han Li muttered, trying to come up with something, anything to say.

“You said you would come up to bed should I give you my phone. Come, we’ll take the elevator to avoid jostling your wounds.”

Han Li whined like a petulant child and curled up around the couch’s armrest, not wanting to budge despite the arch in his bones. But he did make a deal and Han Li was tired of playing the fool to one Graham Astley. 

With a grumble, he pushed himself up. The pain was white-hot and ate at his vision and breath, making him sway on his feet. 

“Are you okay?”

No, not really. Han Li grimaced but changed the subject, “You never answered my earlier question.”

When he stumbled a second time, Graham offered his shoulder as support. Han Li sighed, frustrated but decided that his nonexistent dignity wasn’t worth the hassle and relented into Graham’s aid. A strong arm held him up by the waist and Han Li ignored the bitter taste in the back of his throat to lean against the man’s solid form.

“There was a conference about a new S-rank mission.”

“Oh. When?” The elevator opened up and Han Li realized belatedly it was his first time in the thing. There were only three options and Graham took them to the second floor.

“It is currently undetermined. We were only given a general briefing; it seems that the hour is not yet right and ample preparation needs to be made.”

“…Oh.” 

They fell into silence.

The room with the hateful abstract painting was conveniently just opposite the elevator. Han Li despised how familiar and comfortable he was starting to get with it. The plush mattress welcomed him back and his muscles relaxed almost instantly. 

Sleep had him in its grips almost immediately but he clung to the last thread of awareness upon hearing Graham’s voice. “Good night, Han Li.”

Han Li had a hard time peeling his eyes open but he did it anyway. “Grams…why… Why are you going out all this way for me? Why are you so—” obsessed, “invested? I just…doesn’t…make sense.”

“Are you inquiring about your situation in regards to the Hunter’s Association or my personal motives for being involved?” Graham gave the subtlest of sighs. 

“Mmmhmm,” Han Li hummed, not really answering anything. He was straining hard to maintain his hearing against the tidal wave of fatigue and promise of dreams.

“I’ve already given you the answer to both. For the former, it is confidential information that is controlled by the Board. I cannot give you the details as pertained by protocol. As for the latter…” ” Graham reached down and tucked Han Li’s arm under the cover. By then, his breathing had evened out and Graham was likely speaking to no one. “Han Ruyan had been a cherished friend of mine for the better half of seven centuries. It is only right I help the son that she loved even if...”

“…”

A soft snore left Han Li’s lips. Graham made his retreat. Outside the room, he paused, his gaze falling towards the ceiling-high windows that gave a view of the sparkling city. But the sky above was dead, without a single star shining past the fog of light pollution. 

Seven hundred years ago, Graham used a different name and walked below a different sky. One where constellations littered the night to the brim, the glitter of stars pulsed and tangled with each other, alongside the moon’s silver glow. It was under such a sky he came upon a land where festivals unraveled with vibrant lanterns and cheerful songs. It was an era when the country of Yang was ruled by beast-taming nomads of the north, a time remembered only by the records of history and myth. 

Beneath that ancient sky, amid the sea of songs, Graham met Han Ruyan for the first time.