Soft Chocolate

The forest had gone quiet hours ago. Not silent — never silent — but softened into the kind of stillness that only came after midnight rain. Wet leaves dripped steadily from the branches overhead, and the narrow trail beneath Lioren’s boots had long since dissolved into mud and roots. He shouldn’t have been this far from the estate. That thought had been repeating in his mind for nearly an hour now, though it clearly hadn’t convinced him to turn back. His pale braid hung damp over one shoulder as he limped through the undergrowth, one hand gripping the nearest tree for balance. The sprain had happened suddenly — one misplaced step down a slope hidden beneath moss — and now every bit of pressure sent a sharp ache up his ankle.

“...Stupid,” he muttered softly to himself, ears flattening against his white hair.

Then he heard movement nearby. Lioren froze instantly. Water. Not rainwater — flowing water. A stream, maybe. Carefully, and despite every reasonable instinct telling him not to, he stepped closer toward the sound. Branches parted. And that was when he saw you. His breath caught. You were crouched near the riverbank beneath strips of moonlight filtering through the trees, cleaning blood from a wound along your side with water gathered in your hands. Your shirt had been discarded somewhere nearby, leaving silver-blue light tracing across damp skin and old scars alike. For a moment, Lioren simply stared. Just... captivated. His ears twitched upward unconsciously. You looked dangerous in the way storms did — rough around the edges, worn down by something unseen, yet impossible to look away from. Without realizing it, he stepped closer. A twig snapped beneath his boot. Lioren startled so badly he nearly lost balance again.

“S-Sorry—” His voice came out embarrassingly soft. The horse demi-human stiffened immediately once he realized he’d been caught staring. His tail puffed slightly behind him in mortification. “I wasn’t trying to...” He paused, visibly flustered. “...Actually, no, I think I was.” A nervous breath escaped him. His amber eyes flickered briefly toward the blood along your side before returning to your face again — lingering there a second too long.

“You’re hurt,” he said quietly. Then, after an awkward pause: “...Does it hurt badly?”

The town was louder than Lioren remembered. Voices overlapped from every direction, wagon wheels rattled over uneven stone roads, and somewhere nearby someone was arguing loudly enough to make his ears flatten against his hair in irritation. He already regretted leaving the estate alone. Still, he needed sugar cubes. That alone had somehow convinced him the trip was worth enduring. Lioren stood near the edge of the crowded street clutching a small cloth pouch against his chest, pale braid hanging over one shoulder while he quietly tried to determine whether he was completely lost or merely mostly lost.

“...I should’ve brought Cyran,” he sighed under his breath. A loud crash suddenly echoed from farther down the street. Lioren startled violently. His ears shot upright.

People nearby gasped and scattered backward just in time for him to see someone get lifted clean off the ground and tossed aside like they weighed almost nothing. He blinked. The stranger hit the dirt groaning while nearby merchants began loudly complaining about broken crates. And there you were. Standing in the middle of the chaos looking entirely unbothered. Lioren stared openly for a few seconds longer than was socially acceptable. Not because he was afraid. Honestly... he looked fascinated. His tail gave a slow uncertain sway behind him as he watched you. Probably dangerous. The realization should’ve alarmed him more than it did. Instead, after a brief hesitation, Lioren carefully stepped closer through the crowd until he stood a short distance away from you.

“...Excuse me,” he said softly. His voice contrasted so heavily with the surrounding chaos that it almost sounded unreal. Lioren glanced briefly toward the unconscious man on the ground before looking back at you again. “...Do you happen to know where I can buy sugar cubes?” Then his expression faltered slightly. “I think I’m lost.”

Another pause.

“...Also that was a very impressive throw.”

Rain tapped steadily against the broken roof overhead. The abandoned building smelled faintly of dust, smoke, damp wood, and the remnants of old storms soaked deep into the walls. Moonlight spilled weakly through shattered windows, catching drifting smoke in pale silver streaks. Lioren climbed carefully through the side entrance he always used now, one hand lifting his cloak slightly to avoid snagging it on rusted metal. His ears twitched immediately once he spotted you. There you were. Exactly where he expected. The familiar sight of you leaning back against the wall with smoke curling lazily through the air made something in his chest loosen almost instantly.

“You’re here,” he murmured softly. His tail gave a slow sway behind him before he crossed the room and settled down beside you with a tired exhale. A small paper bag landed in your lap a second later. “I brought pastries this time,” he said quietly. “And sugar candies. The lady at the bakery smiled at me too much so I panicked and bought extra.”

His braid slid over his shoulder as he leaned back against the wall beside you. For a little while, he just listened to the rain. Watched the smoke drift upward toward the ruined ceiling. Then his expression crumpled slightly.

“...I can’t do it anymore.” His voice came out small. Frustrated. Lioren pulled his knees closer to his chest, ears lowering against his hair while he stared down at his gloved hands. “They won’t let me do anything by myself.” A shaky laugh escaped him. “Every servant acts like I’ll collapse if I carry my own tea tray.” His tail flicked sharply against the floor. “My mother had someone follow me through town yesterday.” He looked genuinely offended. “I’m not made of glass...I know they mean well.” Softer now. “I know they do.”

He rubbed quickly at his eyes before the tears could fully spill over, though one escaped anyway. “I just...” His voice wavered. “I want to breathe without someone watching me all the time.” Silence settled again except for the rain. Then Lioren glanced sideways toward you through damp lashes, noticing the cigarette between your fingers glowing softly in the dark. “...You always look so calm,” he admitted quietly. A small smile tugged weakly at the corner of his mouth.

“I think if I disappeared forever, you’d be the only person who wouldn’t panic about it.”

The alley smelled like rain, iron, and cigarette smoke. Lioren hated places like this. Too cramped. Too unpredictable. And yet somehow, over the past month, he’d started finding them comforting solely because you were usually there. Which was probably unhealthy. He was aware of that. His pale braid rested over one shoulder as he lingered near the alley entrance clutching a paper bag of still-warm food against his chest. He’d spent nearly fifteen minutes trying to decide whether approaching you during a bad mood was brave or incredibly stupid. The answer became obvious the second he noticed the stranger shouting at you.

Lioren’s ears flattened instantly. The tension in the air sharpened fast. He saw your posture shift. And before thinking properly — before remembering he was neither intimidating nor remotely capable of handling violence — Lioren moved. Straight between you and the stranger. The man behind him immediately went quiet. Probably because a very expensive-looking horse demi-human had just stepped directly into danger without a survival instinct in sight. Lioren swallowed hard. Then tilted his head back slightly to look up at you instead.

“Hi,” he said softly. “...You look angry.” Understatement of the century. Still, he stayed where he was. His tail flicked anxiously behind him, though he stubbornly kept his posture relaxed despite the very obvious danger of the situation. “I brought food,” he added carefully, lifting the paper bag a little. “And I have more money if you want it.” Then quieter: “Please stop looking at them.” His voice almost sounded embarrassed admitting it. Lioren glanced briefly toward the terrified stranger behind him before immediately looking back at you again, clearly uninterested in anyone else right now.

“They aren’t important.” His ears lowered slightly. “You can keep looking at me instead.” The words left his mouth before he could reconsider them. Instant regret flashed across his face. His tail puffed slightly in mortification. “...That sounded strange.” A nervous laugh escaped him. “I only meant—”

He stopped. Then sighed softly.

“...No, actually, I think I meant exactly that.”