Eternal Devotion

The laughter and clinking glasses in the garden venue became a blur to Aries. His eyes were locked on one thing — Grace. Sitting there barefoot and laughing, whiskey in hand, with a man he didn't know, and worse, didn't trust.

He couldn't hear the words they exchanged, but the ease in her posture, the softness in her eyes — it wasn't meant for anyone else. It wasn't supposed to be this way.

He stood motionless, glass in hand, until the crack came — sudden and sharp. His grip had tightened so hard, the glass shattered, slicing deep into his palm. Blood oozed freely, staining the grass beneath him a dark, angry red. But he didn't stop.

The pain, if anything, grounded him.

Without a word, he turned and made his way toward the drinks table. Faces blurred. Music faded. Everything moved in slow motion. He grabbed a knife with a trembling hand, glanced down once at the deep red soaking his skin… then drew a clean line across his cheekbone. Another at the side of his neck. A shallow one just above his brow. The blood welled, hot and stinging, but he felt none of it.

He wasn't done.

A waiter passed him with a silver tray. Aries plucked a glass from it, lifted it, and poured the liquor straight over his head. The cold liquid mixed with the blood, dripping down his face, soaking into his collar. He tossed the glass behind him.

Then he walked — slow, deliberate steps — toward the towering pyramid of stacked champagne glasses. With one swing of his arm, he rammed straight into it.

A shattering explosion followed. Glass rained around him like jagged snowflakes.

The music halted.

Every head turned.

And so did Grace.

She stood frozen as she registered the scene — the broken glass, the ruined drinks table, the blood. Aries… Aries on the ground, crimson staining his white shirt, eyes half-lidded, breath shallow.

"Aries?" she whispered, then screamed, "ARIES!"

Her heels were gone, forgotten. She dashed forward, ignoring the sharp stones slicing into her feet, leaving red trails in her path. Nothing else mattered. Not the whispers, not the eyes, not the wine-stained dress she brushed past.

"A-Aries, oh God—" she reached him, dropping to her knees. "Why—why are you always like this? Why are you so—so clumsy? Why do you always end up hurt?!"

Aries blinked up at her. The act had gone too far.

Another figure appeared — Aiden. "We need to get him inside," he said, alarmed but calm. He offered a shoulder, and together, they helped Aries inside a nearby room. "I think I have a first aid kit in my car. I'll be back."

And then, silence.

Grace sat beside Aries on the edge of the sofa, trembling. She took his bleeding palms in hers, holding them gently but firmly. "You're bleeding," she whispered, tears spilling freely now. "Why are you bleeding? Why are you so stupid? Why do you keep hurting yourself?"

Her voice cracked on the last word.

Aries stared at her tear-streaked face. His walls — the armor he wore so well — cracked and fell. She was crying… for him.

"Hey…" he said softly, lifting one hand to her cheek. "No, no, don't cry, okay? Please. Look at me."

She wouldn't.

"I'm fine, see? Nothing serious." He forced a soft smile, blood still dripping from the cut near his brow. His thumb brushed her cheek gently, wiping away a tear. "Don't cry…"

He hesitated, voice suddenly dipping so low it was nearly inaudible. "If you cry… my heart crunches."

Grace blinked. "Huh? What did you say?"

Aries looked away, cheeks a shade redder, and cleared his throat. "Ah… I said, if you cry, I'll cry too. So don't cry, okay?"

Grace gave a broken laugh through her sniffles. "You're such a terrible liar."

But she didn't sob. She just sat there, holding his hand, watching the way the blood stained her fingers, too stunned to process what she was truly feeling.

And Aries, bleeding and dazed, didn't care about the pain.

Because in that moment, Grace Vale had chosen him — over her discomfort, over her fear, over her pride — and for a man who had nothing, that meant everything.