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As the sky became an ombre of pinks and oranges, and the stars became visible overhead, one small figure could still be made out in the peaceful library. There, hidden among the stacks of books, lay a snoring Raziol. His black hair untied and his coat halfway falling off his back. He had seemingly been there all day, without any breaks, not even for meals. Raziol’s self-destructive study habits had led Sulvain to spend countless nights worrying about him. Raziol was a very dedicated man and was not going to let himself fall behind everyone else in his field.
Quietly, another figure appeared in the doorway. A shadow danced across the endless arrays of bookshelves, cast only by the faint glow of the moon and a dying candle. A pale hand reached over Raziol's shoulder and closed the book he had fallen asleep in front of. Raziol stirred, but did not awaken as the light touch of a finger softly glided across the tip of his ear.
“No, Huygens I need to…” Raziol trailed off, he was awoken by a cold breath being exhaled near his ear. Slowly he turned his head. There above him stood a man in a flowing cloak, with fluffy brown hair, and mesmerizing green eyes that almost looked golden in the candlelight. It was Sulvain, the beautiful traveler from afar for most, the great necromancer for few, or in the privacy of that library, Raziol's lover. He put a single finger up against the astronomer's lips, signaling for Raziol to simply relax. He turned around, facing his back to the other, and softly gestured for Raziol to climb onto his back.
Raziol, being as tired as he was, did so without question. He was pleasantly surprised to find that Sulvain was much stronger than he appeared, easily lifting the scholar up with steady arms. With silent footsteps he made his way out of the library and out into the dimly lit corridor. Step after step Raziol fell farther and farther asleep, eventually laying his head on Sulvain's shoulders. Sulvain breathed a sigh of relief, a resting Raziol was a rare sight to behold. They finally reached Raziol's apartment. The moonlight streamed through the open window, casting an ethereal glow on the both of them. Sulvain carefully set Raziol down onto the bed, his relaxed face reminding the traveler of the tale of sleeping beauty.
Just like the prince in the story, Sulvain leaned down to give Raziol a smooch on the cheek. However, Raziol had his own plans, he half-consciously grabbed the necromancer’s hand and pulled it in close to his chest, taking Sulvain captive. Sulvain was surprised to find that even when half-asleep, he was still a moderately strong young man. He made a lazed attempt to regain possession of his own hand, though he didn't actually want Raziol to let go. Raziol lifted his other hand up and placed it on Sulvain's head, caressing his soft hair.
As Raziol’s hand drifted down Sulvain’s face he whispered, “You’re so pretty my love,” Sulvain's face turned a shining golden color, a color that could rival the King's own jewelry. He breathed gently as he reached for his lover's hand. Softly he wrote out, 'and you as well my gorgeous star.' Suddenly there was a knock at the door. Sulvain spun around, pulling his hand from Raziol's grasp. He slowly walked over and opened the door to find Huygens standing in front of him.
“Why hello Sulvain. And how are you on this fine night?” He gave Sulvain a look that almost seemed as if he knew about all their little affair, “Well I must be off. I came by to make sure that the young lad had made it to his room,” he paused and looked past his friend, “have a fair night Sulvain and thank you for taking that madman to bed.” He then turned and walked away. Sulvain stood still in the doorway, slightly shocked by the look in Huygens’ eyes. But that was of little importance to Raziol. He patted the mattress, beckoning for his love to lay down beside him.
As Sulvain lay beside Raziol the man whispered something in Urdu, “I love you,” He said. He made a small but content smile and drifted off to sleep.