[BL]Hunted by the God of Destruction

Elias's jaw tightened. "You were listening?"

Victor's brows lifted, that faint smile deepening. "It's my house." His tone was smooth and lazy, threaded with a warmth that was too easy to mistake for harmless. 

Victor raised his hands in a slow, easy gesture of mock surrender, palms open, the motion unhurried, deliberate in a way that only made the glint in his eyes sharper.

"I didn't eavesdrop," he went on, voice low and amused, each word carrying that quiet lilt that made Elias's pulse tick up despite himself. "But she does have… a way of filling a room, even from a distance. A Clarke talent, I suppose."

Elias's grip on the edge of the desk tightened, knuckles pale in the glow of the monitors. He didn't look up, but he felt Victor's presence settle against the air like smoke curling low and patient.

Victor took another step in, the soft slide of his house slippers across the floor almost too quiet to catch. He moved with that same unsettling calm, like nothing in this house, this world, could hurry him. His cream‑colored pants caught the low light, the dark polo fitting across his shoulders with the kind of precision that whispered wealth without ever needing to raise its voice.

When Elias finally dragged his gaze upward, Victor was watching him, head tilted just slightly, the smile still there but thinner now, less amused, more knowing.

"You're wondering," Victor said softly, crimson eyes catching the light like something alive, "if I care what she thinks of you."

Elias said nothing, jaw set, chest rising too fast.

Victor leaned one shoulder casually against the doorframe, folding his arms now, the rubies at his cuffs winking like embers. "I don't." His voice was quiet, steady, and all the more dangerous for it. "But I do care what you think of yourself after she's finished talking."

"And here I thought you took me for a filter." Elias said, leaning on his chair. 

Victor's smile deepened, like a shadow stretching with the turn of the sun.

"A filter?" he echoed, his tone rolling smooth and low, amusement threading through something heavier. He shifted against the frame, the light catching on the clean lines of his shirt, the rubies glinting as if they had their own pulse.

"You think that's all I see when I look at you?" Victor tilted his head, eyes narrowing slightly, crimson catching in the dim light. "Elias… filters are replaceable."

He let the words hang there, soft but edged, watching the way Elias's fingers stilled on the arm of the chair, the faintest flicker of tension running through his shoulders.

Elias froze, his breath catching in his throat before he could stop it.

The words landed softly, but the weight of them hit like a falling blade, slicing through whatever fragile wall he'd built between himself and the man standing before him.

Victor had stepped fully into the room now, the easy drape of his cream pants and that dark polo shirt making him look disarmingly human, while everything in his eyes said otherwise. 

"If you were just a filter," Victor said again, slower this time, as if carving the words into the air itself, "I would never propose to be soulmates."

The last word lingered, soft, threaded through with something Elias couldn't name, not quite affection, not quite threat, something far older and sharper than either.

Elias's hands tightened faintly on the arms of his chair, knuckles pale against the leather. He forced a breath in, then out, trying to steady himself, trying to ignore the way Victor's voice seemed to curl around his ribs like smoke.

"Hah, no pressure." Elias huffed at the audacity of this man. 

Victor's lips curved at that, like he'd expected the pushback and welcomed it.

He took another step in, slow enough that the movement felt unthreatening, deliberate, his hands slipping casually into his pockets as though to prove he wasn't reaching for anything.

"No," Victor said softly, meeting Elias's gaze with that impossible calm. "I told you what I wanted. I told you what I saw in you. But I've never asked you to say it back."

"I was sarcastic," Elias shot back, his voice tight, brittle. "There is too much pressure. We don't know each other, not really, and all of this…" he gestured sharply, the sweep of his hand taking in the manor, the carved doors, the endless corridors, and the silent staff "...is too much. It's a prison."

"It is," Victor said without hesitation, his voice calm as stone.

"Gods!" Elias groaned, burying his face in his hands for a beat before dragging them down and glaring at him. "Do you even hear yourself?"

Victor's lips curved, that small, devastating smile sliding into place like it had been waiting all along. He tipped his head, watching Elias with a glint in his crimson eyes that was far too knowing.

"You wouldn't sound so desperate," he murmured, low and smooth, "if you weren't already drawn to me."

Elias froze, eyes widening, a pulse of heat shooting through his chest that he hated instantly.

"I'm not," he said quickly, too quickly. "I'm…" His jaw locked, his hands gripping the arms of the chair until the leather creaked. "Terrified."

Victor's smile only deepened, slow and unbearably smug.

"Ah," he said softly, as though savoring the word. "That's still a kind of gravity, isn't it?"

Victor's smile lingered, but the sharpness in it eased, smoothed into something warmer, something that didn't feel like a blade pressed to Elias's throat but more like a hand hovering near his shoulder.

He shifted his weight, tilting his head just enough to let the light catch the glint in his eyes, and said softly,

"Terrified, hm?" Victor's voice was quiet, threaded with a faint amusement that curled at the edges. "At least you're honest. Most people try to dress it up as something prettier."

Elias glared at him, though the look wavered, lacking the heat needed to burn. "You think this is funny?"

"A little," Victor admitted, taking an unhurried step closer and resting one hip against the edge of the desk as if the room itself belonged to him.

Elias's brow furrowed, tension coiling tight in his shoulders. "How can your personality change so much?"

Victor tilted his head, the faintest smile cutting across his mouth. "Simple. Don't make me jealous, and don't talk about leaving me. Then you'll only ever see this side of me."

Elias let out a dry, disbelieving breath, the corner of his mouth twitching in something far too bitter to be a smile. "This isn't normal," he said, voice low. "It's toxic."