Smithen felt as though the world beneath his feet had quietly disappeared, as if he had stepped into a reality that was too perfect to belong to him, yet too real to be denied. His thoughts refused to settle, circling endlessly around the same overwhelming truth, while his chest rose and fell in uneven breaths that carried both disbelief and excitement in equal measure.
Because this was not something he had ever truly expected to happen.
Not to him.
Not in a way that would feel this real.
And yet—
it had.
Two years ago, everything had begun in the most ordinary way possible, in a crowded mall filled with noise, movement, and people who had no idea that a single moment could quietly change someone's entire life. Smithen had been standing there like anyone else, distracted, unimportant, just another face in a sea of strangers, when suddenly his attention had been pulled toward something he couldn't explain.
It wasn't the crowd that changed.
It was him.
He remembered the exact moment he saw him.
Even before he knew his name, even before he understood why people instinctively stepped aside when he walked, there had been something about him that made Smithen stop mid-step, his gaze locking onto him without permission.
The media surrounded him, voices overlapping, questions thrown without pause, cameras flashing relentlessly, each person trying to capture something—anything—that belonged to him.
And yet—
Viran stood there untouched.
His expression calm, his movements precise, his voice steady as he answered only what he chose to answer, as if the chaos around him had no authority over him.
There was no hesitation, no unnecessary reaction, no visible effort.
It wasn't just composure.
It was control.
Complete and undeniable.
Smithen hadn't realized when his curiosity had turned into something deeper, nor when admiration had slowly rooted itself into something far more personal, but over time, that single moment had become something he returned to again and again.
He started searching for him without admitting why, telling himself it was nothing more than interest, something temporary that would pass once the novelty faded, but it never did. Instead, it grew quietly, shaping his thoughts in ways he didn't notice until it was already too late to step back.
He followed everything.
Every interview.
Every public appearance.
Every piece of information he could find.
And slowly—
without realizing it—
he crossed a line.
He became someone who watched from a distance, someone who remained unseen yet always present, someone who existed in the background of another person's life without ever being acknowledged.
An anonymous admirer.
A silent supporter.
An online stalker.
He sent gifts through official channels, wrote emails that were carefully structured yet filled with emotions he would never dare to express out loud, and waited without expectation, knowing fully well that those messages might never even be opened.
But for Smithen—
that had never mattered.
Because it was never about being seen.
It was about feeling connected.
Even if that connection only existed within him.
At night, when the world grew quiet and his thoughts softened enough to drift into imagination, he would picture a life that felt so distant it almost hurt to hold onto.
He imagined standing beside him, not as a stranger hidden behind screens and silence, but as someone real, someone who could share moments that mattered.
He imagined growing old together, being someone Viran could rely on, someone who would remain when everything else changed, someone who would stay.
And sometimes—
just imagining it was enough to make his chest tighten with a happiness that felt too fragile to hold.
And now—
that impossible thought had become something real.
"I'm… married to him…"
The words slipped out quietly, almost like a secret he wasn't sure he was allowed to say out loud, his lips parting slightly as if the reality of it still needed time to settle.
His phone vibrated suddenly in his hand, the sharp sound pulling him out of his thoughts as the screen lit up with an unknown number. For a brief second, he considered ignoring it, his mind too overwhelmed to deal with anything beyond what he was already feeling, but something in him pushed him to answer.
"Hello… this is Smithen speaking," he said, his voice carrying a brightness he couldn't hide.
"This is Mr. Viran's personal assistant," the voice replied calmly.
Smithen's grip tightened instantly.
"Sir has asked you to arrive at the bridal residence by 7 PM this evening."
There was no pause, no room for questions, and before he could gather his thoughts, the call had already ended, leaving him standing there in silence.
For a few seconds, he didn't move.
Didn't think.
Didn't breathe properly.
"This is real…"
A soft laugh escaped him, almost involuntary, his heart racing faster with each passing second as the weight of reality finally began to settle.
"I need to tell Kiren…"
The restaurant was alive with its usual noise when he arrived, filled with conversations, laughter, and the constant movement of people who were completely unaware of the storm of emotions inside him.
And then—
he saw him.
Kiren stood near the counter, dressed casually, leaning forward as he flirted with the girl behind it with effortless confidence.
"You're sweeter than the cake itself," he said smoothly, his tone playful.
The girl stared at him with an expression that clearly suggested she was seconds away from throwing the cake at him.
Smithen walked up without hesitation and hit his shoulder firmly.
Kiren turned.
Paused.
"…What happened to you?" he asked, his brows furrowing as he took in Smithen's flushed face, the brightness in his eyes, and the barely contained excitement radiating from him.
"Kiren, I have something amazing to tell you, and I can't control it anymore," Smithen said, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the back of the restaurant.
By the time they reached the last table, where an old man sat quietly sipping tea, Smithen's grip had tightened unconsciously.
"I'm married," he said quickly.
Kiren didn't react.
He hadn't heard.
Smithen leaned closer.
"I'm married, Kiren."
This time—
everything stopped.
"…What did you just say?" Kiren asked slowly.
"I'm married," Smithen repeated, his smile widening uncontrollably.
"Don't joke with me," Kiren said, his tone sharpening.
"I'm married to Viran."
Silence.
"…Viran?" Kiren repeated.
"Yes."
"…You're serious."
"Yes."
Everything after that felt like it was moving too fast, yet at the same time, every second stretched long enough for him to feel it completely.
By evening, the black-suited guards outside his house stood like silent watchers, their presence controlled and unyielding as they followed his every movement.
Smithen looked down at the ring on his finger, the platinum surface cool against his skin, the small ruby at its center catching the light faintly, while the delicate engraving at the back pressed softly against him.
He hugged his brother and mother tightly before leaving, their warmth lingering as he stepped away, their smiles filled with a happiness that made his chest tighten slightly.
The car door opened smoothly, and he stepped inside, maintaining a calm exterior even as his emotions refused to settle.
The underground road stretched ahead, unfamiliar and quiet, making it feel as though he was being taken somewhere far removed from the rest of the world.
And then—
he saw it.
A massive black gate, carved with intricate designs of crows and panthers, their eyes so detailed they seemed almost alive.
The gate opened automatically.
And beyond it—
stood a palace.
Golden.
Magnificent.
Unreal.
Smithen's breath caught slightly as he took it in, his lips parting unconsciously.
"No wonder…" he murmured softly, "no one can reach him."
Inside, the silence was immediate, wrapping around him as his footsteps echoed faintly against the polished floor.
Luxan spoke briefly, then left.
And then—
Smithen was alone.
He sat down slowly on the sofa, his posture straight but his fingers tightening slightly against his lap, his eyes fixed on the grand door ahead of him.
Time passed.
Minutes stretching longer than they should.
The light outside faded, replaced by artificial brightness that made the space feel both grand and distant.
And still—
he waited.
Because behind that door—
was the man he had loved for two years without being seen.
The man he had imagined standing beside.
The man who was now—
his husband.
His heartbeat grew louder with each passing second, his breath slowing unconsciously as anticipation settled deep within him, heavy and undeniable.
And then—
the door opened.
Smithen's eyes lifted instantly.
And in that exact moment—