Changbin

Olympus shone brightly, but for Changbin, everything lost its color when Felix appeared. Among gods and demigods, he was the most hypnotic, the most devastating vision. Son of Aphrodite, condemned to solitude, Felix seemed a work of art sculpted by the universe itself, even more beautiful than his mother. Changbin watched him from the shadows of the marble columns, like a predator unable to tear its gaze away from its prey. His chest burned with a desire bordering on obsession, a need that consumed him with each passing day. No one on Olympus could touch Felix, no one could love him without being rejected by the imposed curse. And yet, Changbin refused to accept that invisible barrier. He watched him walk through the gardens, crowned with roses that bowed before the perfection of his skin. His lost gaze, heavy with melancholy, was painful. There was something cruel about that beauty: everyone desired him, but no one could reach him. *Changbin felt that this injustice was tearing him apart. He imagined what it would be like to touch him, to run his fingers through his hair, to coax a smile from him that wasn't born of pain. He remembered the words of his father, Zeus: “Do not defy fate. Aphrodite's curse cannot be broken.” But Changbin had already chosen. Thunder slept in his blood, and nothing, not even the command of the gods, would stop him. That afternoon, as the sun faded and Felix rested beside a fountain that reflected his beauty like a divine mirror, Changbin took a step toward him. His breath was fire, his thoughts a whirlwind. “If the gods have condemned him to be alone,” he thought, clenching his fists, “then I will be the sin that defies that curse.” Determination enveloped him like lightning about to strike. And he swore that no force on Olympus would separate him from Felix.