Reincarnation: Beyond Mortal Bounds.

The morning sun poured softly through the half-open window, casting a warm, golden glow that danced across the room. Its gentle rays seeped in through the crack, igniting the space with a tender light that seemed almost alive.

Riven groaned sleepily, the kind of groan that sounded like a protest to the brightness invading his beauty sleep.

"Who turned on the light?" he mumbled groggily, voice muffled as he tried to burrow further into the pillow.

He pressed his face deeper into the soft fabric, trying to seek refuge from the assault of sunlight. But his pillow refused to let him hide, as if it was mocking his misery.

Wait a minute! His pillow is warm and breathing?

Suddenly, a voice broke through the haze. Calm, amused, and unmistakably familiar.

"Seems you're finally awake."

Riven's eyes fluttered open, squinting against the brightness, and he sat up with a sluggish stretch, rubbing his eyes as if trying to wipe away the remnants of sleep and confusion.

"Your Highness? What are you doing in my bed?" Riven asked, voice edged with confusion, rubbing his face.

Vaelorian's amused smile widened, a playful glint in his eyes. "Your bed? I don't think so!" he said, voice light but laced with a teasing undertone.

Riven's gaze flicked across the room and back—the bed he sat on was Vaelorian's, and across from him, the bed he usually slept in was conspicuously empty and neatly made.

"What am I doing on your bed?" Riven asked, his voice cautious and unsure, as if he might wake up to find this all a bizarre dream.

Why was he lying on Vaelorian?

He looked at Vaelorian, whose expression had shifted from playful to something colder, more serious.

"Are you saying you don't remember anything from last night?" Vaelorian's tone was measured but edged with a hint of something unclear—suspicion or perhaps, disappointment?

"What happened last night?" he asked, voice quiet, almost afraid to hear the answer. "I was at the party, and Anya and I..." His voice trailed off, and suddenly, everything came rushing back. Anya! Oh no! How was he going to explain this one to her?

He sank back onto the bed, rubbing his face with both hands, feeling the weight of the past few hours pressing down on him.

Damn it, Riven! That pale, scrawny motherfucker! Was he trying to kill him last night?

When Riven looked up, Vaelorian's eyes bore into him, a quiet intensity that made Riven shift uncomfortably.

"I guess you remember everything now?"

"Yeah, I remember. Thanks for helping me, and I'm sorry for… interrupting your night," Riven mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. The awkwardness was thick in the air.

A pause. Then Vaelorian's face softened but not completely, almost like he was holding back his emotions.

"Who hurt you, Riven?"

Riven's brow furrowed. "Huh? What do you mean? Nobody hurt me." His tone was defensive, like he was trying to dismiss the question altogether.

But Vaelorian wasn't convinced. His gaze sharpened. "I vividly remember you saying someone was hurting you last night."

Riven's stomach clenched. He blinked, feigning confusion.

"I did?"

Oh, no. Why did he say that out loud? Now Vaelorian might think he was some kind of weirdo—some nutcase, or maybe worse. Riven facepalmed inwardly, groaning at his own stupidity.

"You said someone was punishing you for kissing her," Vaelorian added, his voice strained, like those words tasted bitter on his tongue. There was a flicker of something darker in his tone—concern, suspicion, maybe frustration. "Now, tell me who they are."

Riven's heart thumped loudly in his chest. He could feel the pressure building. He knew Vaelorian wasn't going to let this go easily.

"Look, dude," Riven started, trying to keep his cool. "Nobody did anything to me, okay? I drank too much—that's all. Why would you take the word of someone who was pretty juiced on booze seriously?" He chuckled nervously, hoping to diffuse the tension, hoping Vaelorian would buy into his story. But inside, a part of him screamed—He's not stupid. He knows you're hiding something!

"I will believe anything if it's from you," Vaelorian wanted to say, but he held back, his jaw tightening.

"But you said someone was hurting you, and somehow I couldn't take away your pain." Vaelorian said instead, voice was steady but tinged with something unspoken.

Riven's eyes flicked away, searching for an escape route, an excuse. "I must've said that without thinking. Like I said, I had one too many last night. But I swear—" he cut himself off, voice quickening—"I'm telling the truth. Nobody hurt me, okay? I gotta get ready for class. I'm already so late."

He swung his legs over the side of the bed, trying to stand, but Vaelorian's voice stopped him.

"No need. I've already informed them you wouldn't make it to your morning classes."

Riven blinked, surprised. "Seriously? Thanks, man. You just saved my ass. If not, Ms. Thorne would've chewed me out—again. I owe you one." He rubbed the back of his neck, grateful but eager to change the subject. "But I still gotta go though, I need to talk to Anya. The whole thing probably freaked her out."

Vaelorian's voice softened, but there was a stubborn edge. "Is she the reason you won't tell me who hurt you?"

Riven's eyes widened. "What? No—what makes you think that?"

Vaelorian's gaze didn't waver. "Then tell me who hurt you."

Riven's patience snapped. "Will you just give it a rest already? I said nobody hurt me. Stop acting like my fucking father!"

His words echoed in the room, raw and unfiltered, and for a moment, the air thickened with unspoken tension.

"Riven!" Vaelorian's tone sharpened, it was a warning and Riven knew that.

"Please, spare me the lecture, Your Highness," Riven shot back, voice trembling with a mix of frustration and anger. "I said I'm fine. Just let it go. Why do you even care?"

How could he even say that? Does he even know what Vaelorian must've gone through—seeing him like that, vulnerable, breaking apart? The thought made Riven's stomach churn with guilt. But he has to do this, it's the only way.

Meanwhile, Vaelorian's eyes flickered with something unreadable, and his voice, when he finally spoke, was shaky.

"Can't you see I'm trying to help?"

Riven hesitated, then, softly, "And I appreciate it. Really. But I don't need a babysitter. I'm fine now. Just—stay out of my business, okay?"

His voice cracked slightly, and he looked away, hoping the conversation would end. Damn it! Why can't he even be upset with the guy without feeling guilty?

Vaelorian's jaw clenched, eyes blazing.

"No!"

Riven's head snapped back, confusion and irritation mixing. "What do you mean, no?"

"I'm saying I won't stay out of your business," Vaelorian said, his tone calm but loaded with conviction. "You usually do what you want without caring what I think or say. So, I'll do the same. I'll do whatever I want."

Riven's eyes widened in disbelief.

"What kind of messed-up thinking is that? You're going to meddle in my business just because I messed with you a few times? I'm sorry, okay? Are we even now?" He sounded weary, almost pleading, even as he threw in that last jab.

Vaelorian folded his arms, unmoved. "No, we're not okay. One half-hearted apology will not make up for all the times you've messed with me."

Riven threw his hands up, frustration bubbling over.

"Dude, why are you being so petty all of a sudden? Don't tell me you also kissed me and left as payback for messing with you?" His voice cracked, embarrassment creeping in at the edges.

Vaelorian's breathing quickened at the mention of the kiss—an involuntary reaction, perhaps, but one that betrayed him.

"That's right!" he admitted softly, swallowing thickly. Even though Riven was wrong, even though he'd misunderstood everything.

"That doesn't even make sense," Riven exclaimed, throwing his hands in frustration. "You're really pushing my buttons now, you know what? Fine! Do whatever you want. It's clear you're not going to listen. Let's see how long you last."

A smug grin flickered on Vaelorian's face.

"Not that I need your permission, but I will."

Riven shot him a glare, the fire of defiance burning in his eyes.

It was better to be angry than numb—better to feel something, even if it was rage or hate. That way he would think about me. Vaelorian thought smiling as he stood, heading into the bathroom. He threw one last look at Riven before closing the door behind him, leaving the younger boy fuming.

"Asshole!" Riven thought bitterly, gritting his teeth. "Where does Vaelorian get off acting like his boss?"

He clenched his fists, fists that trembled with a mixture of anger and helplessness. "Fine. Wanna be petty? Two can definitely play that game." Riven thought evilly.

The morning dragged on, each moment filled with the silent war of glances. Riven managed to get ready, though every step was a struggle. Why? Because Vaelorian kept his eyes on Riven the whole fucking time—every glare was met with a smirk from the older boy, but Riven just acted normal refusing to give him the satisfaction of feeling victorious.

Today was going to be a fucking long day.