Her Beacon (Acheron x Caelus)

Chapter Two

The walk from the counter of the Reverie was cloaked in an awkward silence, the air heavy with unsaid words. Caelus found himself trapped in an uncharacteristic contemplation, his usually effortless banter a ship lost at sea.

"Why did I introduce myself like that? I'd normally say some offbeat things to new acquaintances..." His inner monologue ran rampant, trying to untangle the sudden surge of cheerfulness that had compelled him to act uncharacteristically buoyant around Acheron.

Yes, his usual demeanor was one of brightness—a beacon of positivity to new faces. But this was different. This was a glow not summoned by social obligation or empathy, but a genuine, spontaneous warmth that bubbled up from somewhere deep within when he laid eyes on Acheron.

The other Trailblazers had often playfully reprimanded him for his overzealous greetings, reminding him of the decorum befitting followers of Akivili. Politeness was paramount, the starting point for new ventures both social and political.

They were all too aware of his background—an amnesiac awoken in Herta's Space Station, catapulted into violent skirmishes led by the Antimatter Legion, eventually becoming a heralded hero across Belobog and Xianzhou Luofu.

Oops, a digression—back to the present. His heart raced with an unfamiliar energy, an earnest delight that swelled in the presence of Acheron.

Beside him, Acheron matched his stride with an effortless grace. As they walked, Caelus allowed himself a furtive side-glance, hoping she remained oblivious to his wandering gaze.

Her beauty struck him, a presence that might even challenge Kafka's allure, especially her che—

"Caelus?" Her voice broke through his reverie, and he shook his head, dispelling the vivid imagery that had captured his thoughts.

"Please don't look at me with such concern... it's unnerving," he mumbled inwardly, lost in the jewel-like violet of her eyes. They awakened something within him, a feeling he couldn't quite place.

And he liked it.

Acheron's head tilt and the gentle cross of her arms signaled something amiss. "We've been standing in front of this door for five minutes," she remarked, her tone a balanced mixture of inquiry and subtle apology.

"Door?" The word stumbled out of him as he turned to the numbers displayed before them, confirming the counter's direction to Acheron's room. Engrossed in his thoughts, he'd led them astray in his mental maze and now stood at the threshold of inaction.

This wasn't like him. Or was it?

Caelus coughed awkwardly, attempting to salvage his poise. "Umu! I was just double-checking the numbers, ensuring accuracy for a lady of your stature." His words seemed to catch Acheron off guard, a faint blush coloring her cheeks.

Why did he say that? This isn't embarrassment; this is... self-expression. Perhaps this was what Miss Himeko and the others meant by restraint. It was time to learn the subtleties of etiquette.

To escape his internal fumbling, he pressed on the door, letting the mechanism click and swing open to reveal Acheron's room.

A step inside transported them to a different era—a space where Art Deco met modern luxury, creating a symphony of timeless elegance. The room wrapped around them with its curved architecture, the absence of sharp angles offering a comforting embrace of grandeur and intimacy.

Above, disc-shaped lights bathed the space in a warm glow, playing off the dark walls and geometric patterns of the carpet—a dance of shadow and radiance. In the room's heart lay an opulent seashell-shaped seat, reminiscent of a golden age Hollywood set piece, inviting introspection or a quiet dialogue.