One World

Part 17

Gabriel lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling. His thoughts drifted back to the night before, to the silver-haired Ardanian, but also to his family and friends.

But most of all, his mind kept reliving the moment when he held the dagger to Rag'ell's throat.

As the Supreme had told him, he would not get a better chance to kill him. And he willingly let it slip through his fingers.

Gabriel could tell himself that it was better to keep Rag'ell alive and use this favourable position to gain information, but he knew these were mere excuses.

He held the dagger to the Silver-haired Butcher's neck, unable to use it. Not long ago he would have had no problem slitting his throat, but now he had become a wimp.

He pictured the ruined, bombed out cities, his fallen comrades, his lost family, but it still didn't help.

For there was also the fact that Rag'ell had spared him several times, that he had spared Garret and the other rebels even when he didn't have to.

But most of all, Gabriel thought of their time together, all that wild passion.

He had never experienced anything so intense with anyone in his life.

In fact, he had expected that if they spent a night or two together, if he gave in to what his body obviously craved so much, these feelings would pass. He'd told Rag'ell the same thing, only he felt, like him, that it wasn't working out quite as he'd hoped.

Why did he keep thinking of those purple eyes clouded with desire, those deft fingers caressing his heated flesh, that hot mouth that... enough, just a little longer and he would have to take a cold shower.

The Ardanian, who had only recently discovered what a kiss was, hadn't been able to get enough of them since. And not only that. 

Last night, he had shown his lover that he wasn't the best of the best for nothing. And apparently one of his undeniable talents was that he was a very fast learner. And he now made it his mission to learn and remember everything Gabriel enjoyed and everything that made him moan Rag'ell's name in ecstasy.

He sighed and rolled over onto his side.

He had to have some sort of twisted Stockholm syndrome, where the victim fell in love with his kidnapper.

No, wait. 

He didn't love Rag'ell. He was willing to admit that he had some affection for him, they were attracted to each other, but that was all.

Gabriel Cassel was definitely not in love with the Silver-Haired Butcher.

It just wasn't possible. What he felt was a strong physical attraction, and who could blame him when the leader of the aliens was so irresistible.

If he had been a cross-eyed, balding old man, this wouldn't have happened.

Unfortunately, the leader of the Ardanians was perhaps the most beautiful man he had ever met. Those piercing eyes, the long silver-white hair, the flawless body that resembled an Ancient statue... 

But it wasn't just his looks that attracted Gabriel. It was the absolute confidence with which he did everything he set his mind to. The arrogant conceit that he was the best of the best. At everything.

And as much as this behaviour infuriated the Earthling, it also somehow impressed him.

Gabriel rose abruptly from the bed. He needed to occupy his mind with something other than fantasising about Rag'ell.

In the end, he decided to take a shower. A cold one.

Once showered and dressed, he scanned the room again, wondering what he could do to amuse himself until his captor returned.