❝𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒆𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒈𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒐𝒓 𝒃𝒂𝒅, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆𝒔 𝒊𝒕 𝒔𝒐. ❞
𝑦𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑥 𝑓𝑒𝑚 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟
24 years ago, in the (L/N) mansion.
"This is our son, Celesto." His mother introduced him, positioning his two year old figure in front of the (s/c) infant.
"Hello," he whispered, hesitantly holding out a finger to gently poke your cheek. You giggled with delight, a chubby hand grasping his finger. A gasp of surprise left his mouth, eyes widening considerably with shock, yet he allowed his finger to stay within your grip.
"Your son seems to be a natural with our (Y/N)," your mother whispered to his. She nodded in agreement, curious to see how the interaction between the two would go.
Celesto was tensed, turning around to look at his mother with a panicked expression. She laughed in reply, patting the small boy's head affectionately.
"She likes you, Celesto." His mother smiled, ruffling his hair. His free hand swatted at his mother's, huffing in annoyance. You, on the other hand, cooed happily and started to gnaw on his finger. He yelped in shock and withdrew his finger, holding it close to his chest.
Your mother quickly picked you up and apologised to Celesto, excusing herself to get you ready for your nap time. A maid had come around by your mother's orders to guide the two to the restroom so that he could wash his hands, and his mother followed, watching him with an amused smile.
"What do you think of (Y/N), my boy?" She asked, arms crossed over her chest.
"She's... nothing special." He hesitantly replied, wiping his hands on the cloth provided, baby blue eyes staring at the finger you had held.
(If that was true, why did he already feel an overwhelming urge to protect you, to keep you safe? To retain that innocence, and keep that smile to himself?)
20 years ago, in the (L/N) mansion.
"Celest!" A familiar, childish voice called out to Celesto. He turned to see the now four year old you, running to hug him. He prepared for the hug, opening his arms and anticipating the impact that you brought along with yourself.
"(N/N)," he greeted as you collided into his chest, arms swiftly hugging your waist. "How are you?"
"Good!" You pulled back from the hug, (e/c) eyes sparkling. "Where did you go this time?"
"I went to Japan," he said as he handed you a bag. "Here. A gift for you."
"A gift?" You blinked, taking the bag hesitantly. You opened it to see a black box with velvet fabric, and you took it out gently. You opened the box and a white pearl bracelet with a gold pendant clasped to the pearls engraved with his initials of C.V., greeted your (e/c) eyes.
You looked up to face him, a smile that rivalled the sun taking its rightful place on your face. You threw your arms around him, forcing him into a hug. Celesto reacted with a startled yelp before hugging you back, watching you with a soft smile, his heart beating a mile a minute.
(Your smile was so precious and your embrace was so warm against him. He promised himself that when he grew up, if there was anyone he was going to marry, it was you.)
16 years ago, in the (L/N) mansion.
You had always wondered why you weren't allowed to leave, to explore the world like Celesto was allowed to. You had cried your little heart out many times, tears endlessly pouring down your (s/c) cheeks akin to that of a waterfall.
Your parents had comforted you during those times, namely your mother who assured you that it was for your own good. Your father was not one for much affection, if any at all, and neither was he very good with his words.
You often wondered how your mother put up with the man.
"It is for your own good, snowflake." Your mother would wipe your tears from your face, setting your small figure on her lap. "You are safer here, where we can monitor you."
You would always nod in reluctant understanding, unwilling to talk back to her while your father was present.
Thus, on the day your father was out at the office, you wandered to your mother's room.
"Mommy?" you called out cautiously, (e/c) eyes peeking into the room curiously. She had perked her head up at your call, her once neutral expression morphing into a well-practised warm smile with almost robotic movements.
"Yes, snowflake?" She replied as she lifted you, with some trouble, onto her lap.
"What's the reason why you won't let me go out?" You asked, gaze focused on your lap as your fingers fidgeted with themselves. "You always give an unclear answer. I'm eight now, I can handle it."
"Well..." she had sighed, carefully cradling you against her chest. "Mommy's family has a weak body, and so (Y/N) also has a weak body. That means that you can get sick very easily, and mommy and daddy doesn't want you to get sick."
You blinked, somewhat disappointed at the answer. With the way they were acting with you, you though you had some sort of life threatening disease. Turns out, it was just your parents being overly protective of you.
(What she failed to tell you was the well-hidden threat Celesto made, one that promised their demise if he found out that you had gotten sick. The pearl bracelet on your wrist served as a reminder that he was always watching, that in the end, he was the one who was in control.
For a ten year old, he sure was scary.)
14 years ago, in the (L/N) mansion.
"(Y/N), let's get married." Celesto, or better known as Celest to you, said bluntly. His pale blue eyes stared down and met yours, warm hands holding yours. You felt your own cheeks grow warm, (e/c) eyes looking down shyly.
"M-married?" You mumbled, growing nervous at the thought. "Aren't we too young for... marrying?"
"I don't mean now, (N/N)." His right hand came up to pet your head, a soft smile growing on his face. "Once we're both old enough, let's get married, okay?"
"Okay!" Your once shy act had completely dissipated, eyes now daring to meet his. A bright smile adorned your face, eyes closing into crescents. He simply pulled you to his chest, hugging your smaller frame with a bit more strength than necessary. You paid it no mind and hugged him back, the smile on your face seemingly everlasting as you buried your face in the crook of his neck.
He would be sure to inform his parents and yours of this decision.
(Your mother had overheard your short conversation and told your father who did not seem bothered by it. He even seemed elated at the idea of you marrying Celesto. Your mother, on the other hand, clearly did not feel the same by the tears she had shed and the screams that rang out.)
6 years ago, in the Maldives.
"You may now kiss the bride." The priest had declared, allowing the young couple the luxury of their first kiss.
He flipped your veil back gently, his own cheeks dusted pink. You smiled at him innocently, (e/c) sparkling with delight. He returned the smile, cupping your right cheek with his right hand while his left wrapped around your waist and dipped you back carefully as your lips touched his.
The only way he could describe the kiss was ethereal. Your lips were even softer than he imagined them to be, and your soft skin was like heaven to him.
While most cheered, all he could think about was you, and how you were finally his. He could finally love you the way he wanted all these years, and no one could stop him.
And anyone that tried, would be cut down, never to be seen again.
(Just like your mother.)
The present, in the Vasselis mansion.
"Good morning, Celest." You whispered against his bare chest, looking up at him with an adoring smile. He stroked your head, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. You hummed in delight, leaning up to kiss his lips, of which he accepted gleefully.
"Good morning, my love." He said huskily, pale blue eyes half-lidded and hazy but full of love for you. You were both about to go back to kissing each other and maybe even getting to some more... impure actions, until a childish voice called out to the two of you.
"Mommy! Daddy!" Your two year-old son squealed, taking hurried steps to your shared bed. He was a spitting image of Celesto, with the same messy yet soft mint green hair and pale blue eyes, and most importantly, lacking your weak health.
He climbed onto your bed and made himself a spot in between the two of you, cuddling himself into your chest. You chuckled, stroking his head lovingly. Celesto, on the other hand, watched you with hearts in his eyes, his heart and mind filled with overwhelming love for you.
He was going to make sure his family, especially you, would stay this happy, even if it meant getting his hands stained red.
Even if it meant secluding you from the rest of the world, even if it meant taking away any chance of freedom you could have had, even if it meant watching you shed unnecessary tears over the death of a family member whom Celesto had a hand in the death of.
If keeping you safe, away from this impure world, meant he was the one who had to get dirty, he would do it without a second thought.
If keeping you safe meant that he would have to lie to you, he would do it without a second thought.
If keeping you safe meant that he had to manipulate you, make you dependant to him, tell you that this love was normal even when it wasn't, he would do it without a second thought.
As Shakespeare once said,
"There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so."
These are the words that you have subconsciously held onto ever since you were four, the first time he had given you a gift from his travels.
These are the words that are engraved into your wedding bands, and most of all, engraved into your heart and mind.
These are the words that are the very foundation of your love, the words which are unseen, unspoken, but remembered and worshipped.
(You have never and will never question your love for him, and he would make it so that the very thought of it made you repulsed you on levels which you would not be able to explain.)