Edited by dreamandwonder
“Has Han Li still not returned?” Leonie asked, catching Valtteri slipping into his runners early the next day. Leonie, having just woken, did not expect to catch the tall Northerner scout slipping into his runners. It was yet dawn, scarce few hours elapsed since their return, and their briefing was scheduled later on the day. She thought maybe he was leaving for just a run and did not notice how he flinched at her sudden presence in the living room while he readied his escape.
“Um…” Valtteri mumbled, “nope…Didn’t see the kid. No clue where he went…could be dead…”
“I’ve been trying to contact him all last night but his phone seems to be turned off and he doesn’t have any other communication device on him,” Leonie sighed, brewing herself a coffee while she cleaned the mess they left behind the night prior. “I suppose I will have to see if the Association can track down a signal…”
In her casuals, a plain pink t-shirt and a grey shawl, Leonie did not look like a hunter at all. An orange bandanna kept her hair out of her face while she took small sips of her steaming coffee. Hunched over her phone on the kitchen counter only exacerbated the whole lazy housewife aesthetic.
“…Right. You do that.” Valtteri shrugged on an off-green jacket.
The way Leonie shouted as he opened the door gave him PTSD of his teenage years, much like his mother getting in last-minute criticism before he could escape the household for good. Only this time, it wasn’t his mother warning him about the dangers of STIs but his team captain. “Don’t forget about our briefing at nine o’clock!”
“…Uh, yeah,” he slipped right out of the door before she could call him out on his sketchy behavior.
Little did Valtteri know, he always acted a bit sketchy so there was no way for Leonie to tell the difference in the first place.
Valtteri was, in fact, not going on a run or anything of the sort, he wasn’t about that life in the first place.
Instead, his destination was the central library. Opened to regular civilians at normal hours, the library remains accessible to hunters at any time of the day. While the Hunter’s Network was comprehensive, many obscure topics could only be accessed through designated libraries.
A towering structure, three stories in height sat amid Lyrchester’s city center. Doused in twilight, there was no light glimmered from the windows, the library’s interior dark. But a side entrance welcomed Valtteri’s presence. All he had to do was swipe his hunter’s license through a card reader and the door opened up, revealing a tight hall with elevators that traveled down rather than up.
Unlike the top floors, the library basement was alight with activity. Though not many, a few workers and visitors strolled the aisles and manned the computers lined up against the west side.
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
Perfect.
Njiaafgl’r lcrbwclj tjv yffc rb gevfis agluufgfv ys atf Jglwrbc Qlamt, tfg wjulm rffwlcu rb vjwc lcmbwqgftfcrlyif ab tlw vfrqlaf tlr vffq xcbkifvuf jcv fzqfgalrf jybea klamtmgjoa. Lbk kjr tf reqqbrfv ab riffq ja cluta, xcbklcu atja tf vlvc’a ecvfgrajcv jcsatlcu jybea tfg wjulm? Lfiij gevf, lo sbe jrxfv tlw.
And thus, Valtteri conveniently ignored the passage of time, setting his phone to silent in case that little captain of theirs might bother his session. He collected books from the shelves; ancient magic and spell theory from at least twelve different regions before parking himself on a desk in front of a computer.
X hours later and Valtteri felt like a student all over again, accumulating a pile of dizzying notes and alarmingly little useful information.
He grumbled, leaning heavily on his arm as he glared at the offensive computer screen. Sleep deprivation was catching up to him.
Turns out, there was little record of ancient witchcraft; much of the art was destroyed during the Middle Ages when witch hunts were rampant. Feeling defeated, Valtteri randomly typed ‘Aoibhinn Princess of War’ into the search bar.
What he didn’t expect was to get an obscure article about a fifth-century princess, born in the ancient Britian Isles…
…
When Han Li woke up in Graham’s hotel room, he felt the massive weight of his mistakes on his chest; suffocating and painful to bear.
He slowly lugged himself up, his head felt both light and heavy at the same time. The sun beamed through the sheer curtains that did little to obscure blinding brightness. It was past early morning already.
Time too, felt strange and disorienting, for Han Li couldn’t fathom what even happened the night before.
From weird skinless horse demons to one psychotic Crimson Witch. Which somehow led him to punching the Saint of Eternity right in the face.
What the heck?
Han Li was still reeling, sitting there listlessly on the bed. He couldn’t even remember why he stayed. Couldn’t even remember how he fell asleep.
Beside him was an empty space and his heart stuttered, memories of feminine chuckles and Graham’s rumbling monotone voice beset him. He smiled wryly at the thought, unsure if he felt better or worse that Graham had already left.
Though his heartbreak only worsened, at least he wouldn’t have to deal with the root of said heartbreak.
Why did he come to Britia again?
Han Li didn’t even know. What was he even hoping for? What did he expect? Graham never liked him from the beginning. It had always been obvious.
Dejected, he slowly pushed the sheets away, remembering absently that he was there on a mission. Leonie was probably throwing a fit.
His jacket was left haphazardly on the floor, along with the rest of his dirty clothes. His heart lurched, hand touching the soft black fabric that he donned. He couldn’t quite remember when he changed. But somehow, his dirty rags were on the floor at the foot of the bed and he was wearing Graham’s clothes.
The fuck? How did that happen?
Rather than flustered, he felt disappointed.
Worst of all, Han Li couldn’t even understand his own feelings. Why the hell did he feel so strongly? It was stupid. It was so, so stupid. And yet, even now, he longed for those dark, mirthful eyes. The subtle quirk of his lips. Teasing words hidden behind a stony gaze. Subconsciously, he brought the shirt collar up to his nose. It smelled of Graham’s detergent.
…What was he even doing?
Han Li scoffed at himself.
Ignoring the bite of useless emotions, he fished out his phone from his jacket. No battery left. Classic.
Welp, he’d just have to return to base and pray that someone was still around to open the door for him, or roam the streets in hopes of somewhere to charge his phone. His clothes from last night were hardly clean but he wasn’t going to stay in Graham’s shirt, no fuck that.
With shaking hands he shrugged off the oversized shirt.
It was then the door swung open.
Han Li yelped like an embarrassed maiden and his heart jumped right out of his throat. Eyes, comically wide, he stared at the Saint of Eternity who stood in the doorway.
“…”
“…”
Mortification stole all thoughts and words. Ears, face, and neck, all red. Han Li didn’t even know what he was being embarrassed about. After all, they were both men—
“…What are you doing?” Graham said, strangely soft. He wore his classic black turtleneck sweater, and it fit him perfectly. But his appearance, this time, was not without flaws. The bruising and cuts on his face had already begun to heal but their remnants were still present. His hair was a little frazzled; though it seemed that the saint had tried to comb and style it, there were pieces sticking out of place. And his eyes did not behold the same intensity.
He seemed tired. More human. And Han Li, the idiot that he was, only found him even more attractive.
“I—“ He scoffed at his thoughts, and ripped his gaze away. Han Li pretended that the ground was more interesting and he almost forgot to pick up his clothes from the ground. “I’m leaving. I-I need to go back. To my team. To deal with your wife.” Much to his embarrassment, his tone came out bitter.
“…” Graham did not comment on that. And no matter how much Han Li tried to pretend that he wasn’t paying attention, he was. He heard the crinkling of a paper bag and he heard the saint pad around the tiny hotel room. He also heard the deafening silence and Graham’s breath and the sound of his own heart thumping.
Waiting.
Wasn’t the saint going to say anything?
Han Li almost forgot that he was meant to put his dirty shirt back on. Suddenly aware, he scrambled for it, fumbling embarrassingly as he struggled to get everything inside out the right side in. He swore he could feel Graham’s gaze on him, but maybe that was only his embarrassment. Han Li didn’t dare look.
But if he had, he would have confirmed two dark eyes trained on his back, lips pulled into a slight frown.
Graham, for all the years that he lived and suffered, could not, for the life of him, find the proper words.
Author: hi, this is the author, the author is very sleepy and doesn’t want to go to work. who would like to be my body double? ahem. also yes, han li stayed the night. did they cuddle? who knows I’ll leave that up to your imagination u-u
‘Han Li yelped like an embarrassed maiden ‘ the infamous morning after guilt …. In Han Li’s unfulfilled dreams more like.
u_u yes…unfulfilled dreams…
Thanks for the chapter!
Still hoping for Han Li to go crazy and forget Graham 😉
LMFAOOO U__U i mean insanity is never off the table o w o
Thabkies for the chapterrr~
Hoooooo lezzz goooo angsttt
ahhhhhhh fuihwegew thank u for reading
🍆🍆
🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆
Go Han Li!! Make Graham regret it!!
Thank you for the chapter!! ❤️❤️
he’s already regretting many things sips
Classic.
The author jumped the ship while leaving the excuse: it’s all up to you readers and your fucked up brains. Imagine what MC and his bed buddy did to each other in the span of a few hours. And to make it easier, Let me give you a hint.
…don’t just imagine it, become me.
Just admit it they 🍆🍆
…………………………… runs away
y-you’re free to write fanfic—!! o w o
Cuddled? Maybe, with Graham’s sleeping habits, but nothing more, nope, I don’t think so. The forever-maiden Han Li is embarrased, so cute.
Speechless Graham? Welp, he should be. I’m not much of his fan right now. His feelings… well, h e must choose at some point. The world’s peace and his little kitten Han Li or his broken-minded wife, the evil witch, who wants to destroy it.
Thank you for the chapter!!!
P.S. I’m not really into drama, a bit is fine but the afternoon-Brazilian(or else-ian) drama-level-exaggerated-to-max drama is a big NO! for me. Sorry!
If he had to choose based on feelings alone, he would choose Aoibhinn in a heartbeat.
But since this isn’t an option, he puts his trust in Han Li. Graham is not romantically invested in Han Li– at least he thinks that he isn’t. Whether he developed embers of feelings towards Han Li or not, they still pale in comparison to the centuries of baggage he has from Aoibhinn (whether his baggage is love or something else, you can interpret it yourself. If you recall earlier chapters, there was mention of putting old feelings to rest)
I usually leave it up to interpretation but I felt like there had been some confusion hehehe
ah to be 19 and dumb again sigh
thanks for the chapter <3
the misTakES tHat We Make
define us when we get older“lazy housewife aesthetic” … I just had a thought…what if Leonie was a Karen…. So it could be worse!
Hella rude, rude Hell, same thing XD
Han Li finding Graham more attractive when Graham looks more out-of-it -> obviously this suggests future Han Li ‘teasing’ Graham and messing him up -> the fanfics are not OOC, right? Right?