Ascension Of The Villain

Vyan groaned, his fingers hovering over the keyboard in defeat. "Dammit, why can't I get it right?" He threw his hands up childishly before slumping his shoulders in disappointment.

For a moment, he just glared at the keys, like it was their fault for not singing out the melody all on their own.

After a deep breath, he rolled his sleeves back up, ready to give it another go. "I should try agai—" But his sentence was cut off when a pair of hands landed softly on his shoulders.

He rolled his eyes. "Clyde, I swear, get your hands off—" He froze, feeling the familiar warmth of a breath near his ear and the distinct scent of a perfume he knew all too well.

"I am hurt you would mistake my touch for Clyde's," Iyana whispered, her voice laced with playful mockery.

"My bad," he replied with a slow grin. "It's just that Clyde has been trying to assassinate me with his so-called S-class massaging skills."

Her lips grazed his ear as she teased, "Mmm, are you hinting that you would prefer my touch then? Need a little help with that tension?"

"No," he started, but her fingers were already working their magic, kneading into his shoulders. It was like his tensed muscles were turning to butter under her hands. "No…" His voice cracked before he finally snapped out of it. "No! I don't need a massage. I am not that tired.

Besides, that's not why I asked to meet you today."

"But it feels like you could really use a massage, though. You seem stressed," she noted, her fingers still drawing circles into his skin, genuinely concerned.

"I am only stressed because I can't get this song right," Vyan muttered, a little sulky.

"Oh? What song?" she asked, now draping her arms around his neck from behind, leaning her weight into him so casually that it sent his heart into overdrive.

"It's the one you created before you lost your memories," he mumbled, conflicted between being frustrated with the song and completely entranced by how close she was. "But I can't recreate it. You are the only one who used to know it."

"Play it for me," she suggested, pressing her soft cheek to his. "Maybe I will remember something. Surprisingly, I haven't forgotten how to play any of the songs I used to know before."

"Okay," he sighed. "But it's bad. Like, embarrassingly bad."
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She laughed softly. "Vyan, I literally fall asleep to the sound of sword fights. I think I will survive."

He smiled, and his hands moved across the piano keys, trying his best to replicate the melody.

Iyana closed her eyes, listening intently. Her body melted further into him, completely at ease, until one note struck a chord with her—quite literally. Her hand slipped over his, guiding his fingers gently.

"Concentrate and follow my lead," she whispered. Vyan's mind, however, wasn't exactly concentrating on the music anymore. Because how was he supposed to focus when she was pressed so perfectly against him?

She led his hands smoothly, her eyes fixed on the keys while his were lost on the way her body felt warm and soft against his. Her dedication only made him fall deeper into that fog of bliss, until she noticed his hands weren't really cooperating anymore.

She twitched her lips in amusement. "Vyan, are you following me?"

"Yes," he replied, almost automatically.

"Is the tune alright?"

"Absolutely perfect."

"Uh-huh." She chuckled before pinching his wrist, pulling him out of his trance.

"Oww," he winced and blinked cluelessly.

"Idiot." She made to move away, but he grabbed her hand, pulling her right into his lap.

Iyana let out a surprised yelp, eyes wide as she landed. Her arms instinctively wrapped around his neck for balance as she let out, "Vyan!"

With their eyes now level, Vyan's lips curled into a playful, yet soft grin. His gaze was brimming with affection. "I didn't get a chance to greet you properly. So… good morning, my lady," he murmured, his voice just the right pitch of low to send butterflies to her stomach.

He gave her a once-over, letting his eyes linger before he nuzzled into her neck. He trailed a few featherlight kisses along her collarbone. "You look drop-dead gorgeous. Even more so than usual."

Iyana giggled lightly as she ran her fingers through his hair, feeling its softness against her fingertips. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice tender. "How are you feeling now? You know, after last night?"

"Good," he hummed against her skin, his lips brushing just behind her ear in a way that made her shiver. "Good… but a little nervous."

Her fingers paused, her brows furrowing in concern. "Why is that?"

He pulled away just enough to search her eyes, his expression softening into something more vulnerable. The anxiety flickered there, raw and unmasked. "Because there are a lot of things I need to tell you today and… it's not easy for me. But I need you to promise something—" His voice wavered, and he swallowed hard before continuing, "—please, just hear me out until the end.

And if you can… try to find it in your heart to forgive me."

She blinked, her lips twitching with a gentle smile. "I will do my best," she promised, her voice full of comfort and reassurance.

He smiled, though it was laced with a nervous edge. "And, uh… will you keep playing that song while I talk? It helps me… relax."

Iyana brushed a few stray bangs from his forehead, placing a soft kiss there that made his heart stumble in his chest. "Sure, anything for you," she whispered, her lips lingering just a second longer than usual.

With that, she turned around in his lap, now facing the piano, her fingers finding the familiar keys. His arms remained locked around her waist, holding her close like she was the only thing keeping him grounded.

As the soft melody filled the room, Vyan closed his eyes, letting the music wash over him like a gentle wave. He took a deep breath, inhaling her comforting scent along with it.

He didn't speak right away. He couldn't.

Because he was so scared right now. This might be the last time he could hold her so close like this, without her being disgusted or disappointed with him. What if she—

No, this wasn't the time to picture the what-ifs. He had to take the leap and have faith in her. To accept him. His truths.

Vyan listened to the rhythm of the song and felt the rise and fall of her breathing against his chest. His arms tightened slightly around her, as if afraid that once he started, she might slip through his grasp, so he had to hold her tight.

"Iyana…" he began, his voice low, almost hesitant. "You know how I told you about my family... how they were framed and killed unfairly because of the emperor's conspiracy." He felt her nod, and that small gesture gave him the strength to keep going. "And how much I hated you for so long.

How I blamed you for deceiving me for four years—before I discovered it was Sienna who made me believe that about you."

Her fingers didn't falter as she once again nodded quietly.

"I did a lot of things because of that hatred and thirst for revenge," he admitted, his voice quieter now. "Bad things. Things that I am not proud of… things I know that are not morally justified to you. I took the crooked path more times than I should have, even when I could have done it the right way. Even when I knew better."

He clicked his tongue, frustrated at himself. He has never been too big on self-love, but at that moment, he has never hated himself more for not having empathy, compassion, and forgiveness.

"I guess all of it makes me a pretty terrible person," he muttered, his voice bitter. "And after I tell you everything I have done, I have this sinking feeling that… you will lose whatever respect you had left for me—of course, that is, if you had any to begin with."

A small smile tugged at her lips, the corners of her mouth lifting just enough to soothe the anxiety churning inside him. That simple reaction encouraged him to keep going, even though his mouth felt dry, like his words might crack if he spoke too fast.

"Here goes nothing then."