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Tasmy lifted a hand slowly, fingers slipping into the knot of his bun before loosening it. Strands came free and fell in soft waves, spilling over his shoulders and brushing the couch beneath him.
He leaned back without urgency, letting himself sink into the cushions. His arms stretched out above his head for a brief moment, then relaxed as the tension left his body. His hair spread across the fabric around him as he settled in.
A slight arch ran through his back before he turned his head just enough to glance sideways at the man nearby.
“There are other ways to persuade,” he said, voice calm and unhurried.
Tasmy shifted onto his side, moving like he had nowhere else to be. One finger traced along the seam of the couch, slow and aimless. His gaze dropped for a moment before lifting again through half-lidded eyes.
A faint smirk tugged at his mouth.
“There are other ways to take control.”
He lifted a hand using his finger to call enjin over to the couch. Slowly getting back up. On the couch patting a spot next to him light. As he soon rested a hand on the stand of his couch.
“There are other means of deceit~”
He played with own hair brushing it with his fingers. Giving enjin the half lidded look again before pressing down on his stomach to lay like that. His legs kicking up. As he hummed.
“There are other roads to the soul..!”
He lifted a brow slightly as Enjin came closer. Tasmy shifted up just enough to make space on the couch, watching him settle in. Enjin looked worse for wear, hair messy, clothes marked with stains and dust.
“There are other ways to show passion,” Tasmy said softly.
Before Enjin could respond, Tasmy pulled him in, pressing his face briefly against his chest. His fingers moved through the top of Enjin's hair in a slow, steady motion, almost soothing.
“You still have so much to learn,” he murmured.
He leaned back again, letting the moment settle, then moved lazily across the couch as if nothing had changed.
“Do you want to save our men from the fire?” he asked, voice lower now. He shifted closer again, speaking near Enjin’s ear.
“Show me you’re willing to burn for it.”
Enjin looked uncertain, rubbing the back of his neck. “Oh, well, who’s to say… with all the mistakes I’ve made—”
Tasmy caught him by the collar, pulling him just a little closer.
“Don’t be afraid.”
Enjin hesitated. “That they’ll be the last—”
Tasmy’s voice softened, cutting through the doubt.
“Think of your past.”
Enjin exhaled shakily. “Mistakes I ever make?”
Tasmy moved like a shark circling its prey.
He rose slowly, letting his robe slip from one shoulder as he stepped closer. “This is the price we pay for love,” he said quietly, glancing back at Enjin’s flushed expression. His voice dropped to a near whisper. “I’m just a man…”
“There’s a line… never enough,” Tamsy murmured as he climbed onto the couch, closing the distance between them.
“I’m just a man,” he repeated, eyes half-lidded, meant to steady himself. Enjin’s breath hitched as Tasmy leaned in, close enough that he could almost FEEL the other's piercing.
“So much power… so much power,” Tasmy whispered, suddenly shifting his grip to Enjin’s wrist where his watch sat. “Forgive me…”
His fingers slid carefully beneath the watch, trying to unclip it while keeping his tone soft, almost calming, as though nothing else was happening.
“But there’s no puppet here,” he added, voice brushing the edge of the other's teeth.
Enjin jolted upright.
He pulled away so fast Tasmy nearly tipped back against the couch. Enjin stood there, staring, startled and conflicted.
“I can’t,” he said.
Tasmy slowly eased himself back against the couch, sinking into the same careless position as before. One arm stretched along the cushions behind him while loose strands of hair clung to the fabric around his shoulders. His expression had shifted now, softer, touched with quiet confusion as Enjin nearly collapsed beside him.
Enjin buried his face in his hands.
“Back home… my husband waits for me.” His voice scraped against the silence. “He’s my everything. My Gris…”
His shoulders rose with a shaky breath.
“And he’s all my power… all my power…”
His fingers curled tighter until his knuckles whitened. Then he dragged his hands down his face, exhausted frustration pulling at every movement.
“But it’s been twelve long months.”
Tasmy stayed still, watching him carefully now.
“Twelve long months since I’ve seen him.”
The room felt heavier with every word Enjin forced out. His eyes lifted at last, locking onto Tasmy’s unreadable stare.
“And now that fake god wants to end my life.”
His throat bobbed dryly. The anger in his face cracked around the edges into something uglier. Fear. Desperation. He hated every second of it.
Still, he swallowed his pride.
“So I beg you…” His voice dropped lower. “Tasmy… grant us mercy.”
For the first time, the corner of Tasmy’s mouth twitched upward.
Interesting.
“And help our team leave.”
Tasmy leaned his head slightly against the couch, eyes half-lidded in thought. Silence stretched between them while he weighed the request. Then, at last, he gave a slow nod.
Relief hit Enjin so hard his shoulders nearly gave out.
“Ah… Mymo.. huh?” Tasmy finally pushed himself upright, robe slipping back into place as he crossed the room. His fingers brushed across the counter absentmindedly.
“There may be a way around him.” His voice drifted through the room. “Maybe even a way home.”
Enjin looked up immediately.
Tasmy turned slightly, pale light catching in his eyes.
“The trouble is…” He rested his hand against the edge of the counter. “This path is dangerous.”
His gaze slid back toward Enjin.
“Dangerous enough to be your last hope.”
A pause.
Then his lips curved faintly.
“I know of a prophet.”
The air suddenly felt colder.
“A brilliant prophet.”
His eyes glimmered strangely against the redly lit room.
“The only problem…” Tasmy said softly, “is that he’s dead.”
Enjin stared at him.
“No…”
Tasmy gave a small shake of his head, loose strands slipping across his cheek before he brushed them back.
“I can’t get you home,” he said quietly. “But I can get you to the East Ward instead.”
Enjin blinked.
Tasmy moved around the room as he spoke, calm and unhurried. He gathered his hair between his fingers, pulling it back into place rather quickly.
“I’ll release our men,” he continued with a soft hum. “And I’ll get all of you safely out of here.”
“Wait.” Enjin stared at him in disbelief. “You’re actually helping us?”
Tasmy’s eyes flicked toward him through the mirror.
“There are many ways to persuade people.” His fingers twisted the tie around his hair one final time. “Many ways to control them.” he reached for his mask resting on the counter. “Sometimes…” He paused, turning the mask slowly in his hand. “One act of kindness reaches farther than fear ever could.” For a second, something distant crossed his face. Old. Almost mournful. He slid the mask over his face, fastening it carefully before walking back toward the door.
“I remember what passion feels like,” he murmured.
The confession came softer than everything else. “I was in love once before.”
A faint warmth touched the tips of his ears before he looked away.
Enjin stayed silent, caught off guard by how human he suddenly sounded.
Tasmy opened the door and motioned for him to follow.
Night air spilled into the room as they stepped outside and headed toward the waiting car.
“Maybe one day,” Tasmy said with a tired sigh, settling into the passenger seat, “the world won’t need puppeteers anymore.”
His fingers rested against the door handle.
Then, after a pause, he let out a quiet laugh beneath the mask.
“Or maybe one day…” His eyes lifted. “It’ll need them more than ever.”
