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Beautiful, charming ruby eyes.
Every time he looked at them, he couldn't help but look a moment longer. Clear and soft, they were utterly mesmerizing.
Cavert could get lost in them all day.
Their owner was as charming as his eyes, beautiful and pleasing to the eye. It was to no surprise that Cavert wanted to do nothing more than kiss him senseless.
If only Deon could belong to him.
Cavert would cherish and love him like no other, holding him close until mortality ended their union.
But Deon didn't like him, there was never any indication that he did. He knew Deon found him overbearing and was even a bit fearful of him.
He observed Deon so well, how could he not know?
He would just enjoy the time he could spend around Deon and keep it at that. If he wanted to side with the Empire and betray Cavert... Cavert would just confine him to the castle. He already knew he couldn't bear to hurt the human, but keeping him at his side was another thing entirely.
Deon would get used to it. It wasn't like Cavert would confine him to only his room, he would have the whole castle to roam.
That was all Cavert had ever planned for, enjoying Deon's company while he toed between the two sides or keeping him in the Demon Realm for good as punishment for trying to run.
And if Deon chose his side, there was even less of a problem. At least that was how it was supposed to be.
Several months later, he had to look into eyes that were once full of life, now reflecting nothing but emptiness.
And even later, those eyes once again reflected light but that light now came from Deon's own body. Deon was the Warrior, his destined enemy and the only one Cavert could count on to kill him.
If he didn't already know it did he would now have thought that this world really hated him.
But this was the logical course of action. Cavert had set something in motion long ago and the world must have latched onto the hatred that would unleash with Deon's knowledge. And even if Deon would never know, he was still the best choice.
How cruel. Both himself and the world.
If he hadn't created the rift, the world wouldn't have anywhere to push him into.
Cavert wanted to die but for the first time he longed for the end to come at least a century later, after Deon lived out his life at Cavert's side without ever being the Warrior.
A sword in his chest and ruby eyes above him. Beautiful, charming ruby eyes.
Hidden in them, shoved behind relief and apathy, was pain. Cavert smiled at their owner, hoping to ease those lingering feelings. This was what he wanted, this was how it was always going to end.
He hadn't expected Deon to feel pain.
He was the catalyst, part of the reason for all the wrongs Deon had suffered. There shouldn't be any pain, only relief that he would soon be gone.
Deon, his stunning Deon, he still felt pain for ending his tormentor.
He let out a slow, painful chuckle. It was funny, but more than that, Cavert felt happy that Deon cared for him despite it all. Happy that he was worth something in the eyes of the one he loved.
If only he could have been allowed to truly love him. If only even one of them hadn't been the Demon King or Warrior, maybe he would have proposed. Maybe he would be holding Deon in his arms now, lovingly and tenderly, placing a soft kiss upon his brow. Maybe...
There was no room for maybes.
His breath became shallow and soft as he stopped feeling his limbs, his body heavy as lead. His head turned light and fuzzy, the red and white he was trying to burn into his mind melding together.
Strangely, there was no discomfort, only a light, airy feeling. He could sense the heavy rise and fall of his chest as what remained of his vision faded to black.
Was this what death felt like?
At least the last thing he saw was his beloved, the last thing he touched his beloved and the last voice he heard his beloved's as well.
That was enough, he knew he couldn't ask for more. To die by the hands of the man he loved, to have him see Cavert off, was all that mattered now. He only regretted that he hadn't been able to kiss Deon even once.
Or at least see him smile at him with genuine happiness.
As he breathed his last, something soft and warm pressed against his lips, hot and scalding liquid landing on his face, but Cavert could no longer feel their heat, only the touch they brought.
Such... a pleasant end.