I Became the Villain Alpha's Omega (BL)

Zarius stepped fully into the weak, flickering glow of the altar candles, rubbing the back of his neck with a broad, calloused hand. He let out a long, heavy yawn, his massive shoulders rising and falling under his fur cloak in a lazy, exaggerated stretch.

”Do you mind?” Zarius grumbled, his voice rough and thick with a well-acted grogginess. ”Some of us were actually trying to sleep back there.”

The silver-haired boy flinched, his defensive posture instantly cracking into utter embarrassment. A sharp, burning red flush crept rapidly up his pale neck, staining his cheeks under the warm candlelight. He hastily wiped his eyes with the wide silk cuffs of his sleeves, trying and failing to erase the obvious tracks of his tears, though the frantic motion only made his skin look more irritated. He looked Zarius over, from his broad shoulders to his clothes. Nothing about him resembled a temple guard.

”You...” the boy stammered, his voice still still shaky from crying. He quickly swallowed the lump in his throat, trying to force his tone into something sharp, cold, and authoritative to mask his vulnerability. ”How long have you been there? Did you... did you peek? What exactly did you hear?”

Zarius brushed the question aside with a wave of his hand, letting his eyes wander up to the high, arched ceiling of the chapel as if he couldn’t care less about the kid’s midnight breakdown. ”Calm down. I didn’t hear a damn thing over the sound of all that loud sobbing. I would’ve kept sleeping if you hadn’t started crying.”

In his head, Zarius offered a dry, silent apology for the lie. He had heard every single word, but it was better to play the part of a lazy, oblivious bystander.

The boy’s jaw tightened. He glared at Zarius, his blue eyes narrowing as he tried to decide if this giant was lying to spare his dignity or if he was genuinely just an incredibly lazy, unbothered intruder. Feeling too exposed standing directly in the center of the altar where the candles illuminated every line of his face, the boy turned back.

He walked a few paces away and slid into one of the heavy wooden pews on the left side of the chapel. He sat up incredibly stiff, his hands resting flat in his lap, though his shoulders still trembled slightly from the lingering aftershocks of his crying fit.

Zarius watched him for a quiet moment. Instead of heading for the exit like a sensible person, he found his boots carrying him down the aisle. There was something oddly grounding about the quiet of this chapel.

He made his way to the benches on the opposite side of the aisle and sat down. He strolled over to the pews on the right side of the walkway, the side directly opposite the boy. With a soft, heavy groan of his joints, Zarius slid onto the polished wood bench, leaning his head back against the cold stone wall behind him. The wide, tiled walkway stretched between them, creating a perfect gap of about six feet.

The boy watched him sit, his blue eyes tracking every movement with a mix of suspicion and annoyance. He looked at Zarius’s shoulders. The man seemed far too comfortable for someone sitting in a holy sanctuary.

”What are you supposed to be?” the boy asked, his voice echoing softly in the empty space. ”A new night guard? You’re doing a terrible job if you’re just using the holy chapel as a personal bedroom. I’m fairly certain the captain doesn’t pay his men to take naps in front of the holy statue.”

Zarius let out a low, dry chuckle, the sound vibrating deep in his chest. He rested his ankle over his opposite knee, tapping his fingers against his thigh in a slow, rhythmic pattern. ”You’re remarkably bold for someone who was just weeping on the floor. What makes you so sure I’m not a thief?”

The boy shifted in his seat, turning his head slightly to look across the aisle. He raised an eyebrow, a few stray locks of his silver hair catching the amber candlelight. ”Are you?”

”No,” Zarius said flatly.

”Then I don’t care,” the boy muttered, turning his gaze back toward the grand statue. He let out a small, wet sniffle, his fingers tightening against the fine fabric of his white tunic. He looked back over at Zarius, his irritation returning when he realized the giant wasn’t leaving. ”Why are you still here, anyway? Shouldn’t you be out patrolling or... doing whatever it is you’re actually supposed to be doing?”

Zarius raised an eyebrow. Either the boy was unbelievably trusting, or he simply had no idea how dangerous that line of thinking was.

Zarius tilted his head, looking at him as though the question genuinely puzzled him. ”I can’t be here?”

”No,” the boy snapped, his voice echoing off the stone. ”It’s the middle of the night. People come here for privacy.”

”Is this your property?” Zarius countered. ”Last I checked, this is a public place. Which means I have just as much right to sit in this drafty room as you do.”

The boy’s mouth opened slightly in sheer disbelief. He clearly wasn’t used to anyone talking back to him with such lazy, comfortable defiance. He let out a sharp, frustrated breath and turned his head away, staring stubbornly at the altar. But he didn’t get up to leave. He just sat there, his chest rising and falling, occasionally letting out another quiet, involuntary sniffle that he tried desperately to muffle.

Zarius watched the side of the boy’s face. Up close, the kid looked incredibly young, probably a few years younger than Zarius himself, and completely exhausted. The sharp, venomous words he had thrown at the altar earlier didn’t match the fragile, hollow way he was clutching his own sleeves now.

He thought about what the boy had been muttering before he stepped out.

Zarius kept his face perfectly blank. The boy was trying to fight a war with nothing but a sword of glass, completely out of his depth. He was practically tearing himself apart trying to earn the attention of a man who viewed him as nothing more than a political ornament, all while that Philia won it without even trying.

”Do you have a problem?” Zarius asked quietly, breaking the silence. His voice wasn’t mocking this time; it was just a simple, direct question.

The boy didn’t look at him. He just stared at the flickering candle flames, his jaw clenching tightly as he swallowed another sob. ”None of your business.”

Zarius let out a soft grunt. ”Fine.”

He didn’t push. He didn’t offer any empty, polite platitudes, and he didn’t get up to walk away. He just sat on his side of the aisle, giving the boy the silence he seemed to need, while the boy slowly let his shoulders drop, staring into the dark.