One day you forgive me

Daedric had been wandering the halls of the grand residence when he overheard the hushed whispers of the servants. They spoke with animated expressions about Dahlia and Sullivan's blossoming love.

A familiar ache tightened in his chest, a silent reminder of what he had lost. It was bound to happen sooner or later, he told himself, clenching his jaw. I can't dwell on her anymore. She belongs to my past.

As he reached his room, he stopped abruptly at the sight of Sullivan standing by the door. The man straightened and bowed in a show of respect, his expression neutral but guarded.

"May we speak?" Sullivan asked, his tone calm but direct.

"Yes," Daedric replied after a brief pause, stepping inside while Sullivan followed closely behind. They settled into the chairs flanking the low table, an air of tension filling the space between them.