Chapter 25
Chapter
Twenty-Five
A HEART TOO BIG FOR HIS CHEST
Poe
“Even the monsters in my fucked-up head are afraid of how much I love you.” — A
T he next night, I woke up to silence.
I couldn’t believe I’d slept through the entire first day here, but my body hadn’t given me much choice. It was the exhaustion of travel, of old memories stirred up, of emotions I’d kept buried too long finally spilling out. It had all caught up to me. I slept like the dead. Not even Prince could wake me from the deep sleep I was in. I’m not even sure that the little demon tried.
Evening had settled in by the time I pulled myself out of bed. I quickly took a shower, brushed my hair and picked a white dress for the night. It was simple but pretty. Then I venture outside of the room only to be met with more silence.
The halls felt emptier than they did last night and much colder. Luckily, I loved the cold.
Azariel was nowhere to be found.
At first, I searched quietly—half-expecting him to appear around a corner with that sharp, unreadable stare. I checked his study, the hallway that watched the garden, the corridor filled with those strange portraits.
I found nothing. Just the soft hum of rain against glass.
The only thing I found was his cat. Allen. I know his name because I’ve heard Aunt Kadra talk about him with Mom.
The grumpy little sphynx showed up without warning and began trailing after me like some tiny, furless guardian. I expected him to hiss or ignore me—like my own spoiled cat always did when annoyed. But Allen didn’t hiss. He didn’t leave. He even let me pet him—twice—and even purred.
For reasons I couldn’t name, that made my heart soar.
Later, I found a plate waiting for me in the kitchen. My favorite meal. Still warm.
No note. No clue who made it. Just the quiet and lovely presence of something done with care.
I didn’t need a name. I knew who did it.
Azariel.
My stomach had been in knots all day, and the first bite made my mouth water. The food was delicious, familiar. It tasted like my mom’s cooking. How did he manage that? I have no idea but I knew mom had something to do with it.
I ate in silence while Allen curled up at my side, watching me like he didn’t completely hate my presence in his domain. Maybe he could teach Prince some cat manners. Prince was severely lacking.
After dinner, I washed the plates and then wandered the manor again. Not searching this time. Just… drifting. Allen stayed close, padding along beside me like he’d made up his mind—I was his now. I smiled at that. I think winning Allen’s heart was easy. Nothing at all like his owner.
I kept walking through the halls but Azariel never came.
I waited. I told myself he was probably out. Maybe in the gardens or hidden in some secret wing of this vast place tormenting a poor and unfortunate soul. But deep down, I knew something was off.
It was the way it felt like he’d vanished entirely.
Like he’d never been here to begin with.
Now, hours later, I sit alone in his magical library while another storm stirs the night. Lightning flickers across the tall stained-glass windows.
I sat nestled into one of the plush armchairs by the hearth, the soft crackle of the fire providing the only warmth on this chilly evening. Both cats were sprawled lazily around me, their purring the only other sound in the vast library. Despite the comfort of the room, my thoughts trailed back to Azariel.
I wondered where he went. What he was doing in the shadows of the night, when even the stars seemed to avoid the sky. I knew he had his secrets, his demons—everyone did—but there was a weight to it that made my curiosity itch, that made my heart race with a sense of both dread and longing.
I pulled my knees up to my chest, absentmindedly stroking Allen, trying to push the thought of his disappearance from my mind. But it wasn’t working. I needed something to distract myself, something to ease the tightness in my chest.
I reached for the nearest book—one of Azariel’s old favorites, The Little Prince . I had seen it many times on his shelves, but I had never picked it up. Perhaps tonight would be the night to finally dive into its pages, to lose myself in its words, and perhaps forget my thoughts of Azariel for a while.
As I flipped open the cover, a peculiar thing happened. The pages didn’t feel quite right. They were too thin, too smooth, as if something else was hidden within. I blinked in confusion, pulling the pages apart, and before I could even process what was happening, something small fluttered to the floor.
My breath caught in my throat as I watched a few delicate, folded pieces of paper spill from the book. I bent down to gather them, my hands trembling slightly. Each letter was marked with my name— Poe —written in elegant, sweeping blue handwriting that seemed too familiar. The letters were in a neat stack, each one sealed with a small, blue wax stamp.
I hesitated, my heart racing with curiosity. What... What were these? Why were they inside The Little Prince ?
I carefully opened the first letter, my eyes scanning the words as my heartbeat began to quicken.
Little Fox,
I lied.
— AS
The first letter made no sense. He lied? What about?
I tear open the next one.
Poetry,
I find myself thinking of you when night falls. I’m not supposed to. I know this yet I can’t help myself. I try to keep my distance, to protect you from the darkness inside of me, but every day it feels like an impossible battle. You’re in my thoughts every moment, in every corner of my world. Even in my veins, like a poison that should kill me but instead it gives me life. I see you in places you haven’t been, and I hear your voice in the silence of my mind.
I should bury your memory, but I can’t seem to do that. You have become the only light in all my darkness. I’ve lost myself in you.
— AS
My breath caught in my throat. My fingers were trembling as I unfolded the next letter.
Poe,
You make my world brighter, even when I feel like I’m drowning in the shadows I created. You make me want to fight for things I never thought I could fight for. You make me want more and be… more.
I think about you constantly. About how you would look if you were standing beside me. About how beautiful you would look in my garden surrounded by my roses. I think about how you make everything seem more... bearable. How your smile pierces through my cold heart. You’re not here and yet you make everything less painful. I can’t imagine what it would feel like if you were next to me.
But it’s not our time, not yet. I’m not enough for you, Little Fox, I don’t know if I ever will be but I’m trying.
—AS
Tears welled in my eyes as I held the letter in my hands. This couldn’t be real. Azariel—my cold, closed-off boss—had written these? This had to be a dream.
These were the words of a man who had poured his heart into these letters. His words felt raw and unguarded. These letters felt like a confession. One I had never expected from him, and yet they felt so... him. So achingly real.
I wiped a tear from my eye and as I looked down at the stack of letters scattered across the floor, I realized that there were more. So many more. I reached for another book nearby, trembling as I opened it. A Tale of Two Cities —one of the thick, old classics I too love. Again, the same strange feeling washed over me as I held it in my hands. Like the last one, the pages inside were empty... except for more letters, folded carefully between them.
What?
My fingers moved in a frenzy, pulling letter after letter from book after book, my pulse quickening with each one I uncovered. I must look like a mad woman.
There were dozens of letters to me. All from him.
You graduated top of your class today. You looked like a goddess among mortals as you stood there silently absorbing the world around you. You didn’t see me there when you smiled at the crowd looking for your family but I was there. My heart was filled with pride as you held your diploma in hand. I wanted to walk to you and tell you all the things I’ve wanted to say since I was ten years old and I hurt your heart. But I didn’t. I can’t. I don’t know how to show you the side of me I keep in chains. I don’t know if you’ll ever see it. But I want you to. I want you to see all of me, even if it’s ugly. Even if all there is… is darkness.
You are all that’s good about me.
I don’t deserve you, but I can’t help but want you anyway.
— AS
My heart fluttered in my chest, my eyes burning with unshed tears. There were hundreds of letters, hidden in books all over the library. Letters from Azariel, each one more vulnerable than the last. He had kept them from me, tucked away in the books he loved, each one a piece of his soul that he had never dared to share.
I could hardly breathe, my body overwhelmed by the realization. Azariel—the man who never spoke of his feelings, who was so guarded and cold—had poured his heart into these letters for me. He had written them over and over, all this time, never sending them, never knowing that I would find them.
Suddenly, I felt dizzy. The library seemed to spin around me, my chest tight with so many emotions. This beautiful and broken man had written me thousands of letters. Thousands. And now I had found them all.
I drop down to my knees, surrounded by letters written by him, and let the tears fall freely. My heart swelled, so full I thought it might burst. I picked up another letter, my hands trembling with the weight of it.
My blue haired dream,
I lied.
I do want your friendship.
I do want your heart.
— AS
I let out a soft, trembling sob, clutching the letter to my chest like it could hold me together. I could hardly believe it. Azariel had loved me all along—in his quiet, aching way. And now, he’d given me everything he had kept hidden in the shadows of his heart.
He had spent years loving me in silence, from a distance, convinced he wasn’t worthy.
“Oh, you stupid, beautiful man,” I whispered through my tears. “If only you had seen yourself the way I did back then—the way I still do—you would’ve spared us both all those years of aching for a love that was written in every single one of your scars.”
Then, I quietly tucked each letter back inside the books and returned everything to its place. There was no going back after this. I wasn’t the same girl who arrived in this city chasing a dream of becoming a traditional author—no. I was the girl I had buried deep inside myself to protect her from more heartbreak.
And now, she was back.
And she was still so sweetly in love with her heartless—no, not so heartless— beautiful dark prince.