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Kindle Notes & Highlights
The way Yohan talks about himself—like some disposable tool—makes Sol’s heart ache.
When was the last time life was a journey to be explored, and not some hollowed out, threadbare sad body to be filled with distractions? Sol asks himself.
A knight should not bed his King’s hire. They say a woman should not open her legs for a man she barely knows. But Sol is tired of being a woman, just as Yohan tires of being a Rider.
everywhere Sol looks, Solange is present. In people’s hearts. In their memories. In the documents he signs. In the dresses he wears for the odd occasion. Throughout each corner of his life, she haunts him like a ghost.
And yet, the possibility of such a life existing, is… somehow, more daunting, than having once passively accepted the fate of never knowing the warmth of one’s existence. For Sol finds himself yearning to take action. To do anything and everything and become all that he has dreamed of. But… he does not know how, nor if it is maybe, too late for that. And it is suffocating.
The idea of being bare before a spirit who has likely seen worse than Sol in her lifetime is, in some ways, exactly what he needs. “Oh?” the forest nymph hums. She runs a hand down Sol’s shoulder, and Sol leans into it, into her. “Interesting. I was planning on simply devouring you, you see. But…” Her cool breaths fall against Sol’s neck. “Sol,” she whispers, chilled words into Sol’s skin. “I want to experience you.”
“Hi, Sol,” he mumbles, his hot breaths falling against Sol’s neck in turn. “It’s nice to meet you.” Sol didn’t think it was possible to hold onto Yohan any more than he did, however, he does. And Yohan caresses the back of his head. Yohan presses his lips to Sol’s eyelid where Sol’s tear slips down across his mouth. Sol makes a fist in Yohan’s shirt. And he exists. He exists. He exists.
“Do you have a preference, though?” he asks Yohan, the question is muttered under his breaths as he sifts through one cylindrical rod after another, in hopes of finding his forever-cock. Yohan slides his hand down Sol’s waist, then up his back again, and Sol relaxes under the touch on instinct. “My love,” Yohan leans forward, closer to his ear, “I just want yours,”
He breathes in the scent of him as the crickets sing outside. “Yohan,” indeed, the name feels familiar on Sol’s lips, in the way that the sun does on one’s skin in the summer.
“My heart?” Yohan presses a soft kiss to Sol’s eyelid before he pauses. “Shall I fuck you now?” he asks, and Sol doesn’t know how his beloved can sound so level-headed whilst speaking such words, but the offer goes straight to his cunt as Sol clenches around the air, he groans with impatience, excitement.
“But you make me feel like I am enough, Yohan.” Sol squeezes at Yohan’s hand, he smiles as another tear of joy streams down his jaw. “Thank you.” I finally feel like I am myself. Like I am a person, and I’ll be okay.
“Sol.” Androcles rises from his seat then walks up to Sol, as he sheds a single tear, Androcles hugs Sol from the side with trembling yet nimble arms, then tells him, “How proud of you I am.”
“And how glad I am,” Androcles adds, “to call you my protégé.” He sighs, and all the fears Sol once held dissipate into the air, as quickly as the steam that rises from the mugs which hold their hot chocolates across the table. “Welcome home—welcome back, Sol.”
