Morgan and Ange.

The country is on the brink of revolution. Disenfranchised, uneducated, and impoverished peasants are beginning to rebel against the tsarist regime and the bourgeoisie. In the country's capital, Angeli Nilva, danger is growing.

Morgan—at the age of 20, he experienced the full cruelty of a world where without power and status, you're nothing. Morgan grew up in a poor orphanage. Badly battered by life, he learned to defend himself. He first formed his own gang of fellow poor people, and then decided to join the "Red" revolutionaries who opposed the rule of the tsars. He was unattractive. Tall, strong, with a perpetually sullen face. His eyes looked angry and tired. An old, terrible scar curled his thin lips. Morgan's nose was aquiline and slightly crooked from countless fractures. Morgan was rude, spiteful toward the world, greedy, and jealous. Out of greed, he always wanted to take more for himself than he could.

One day he meets a young landowner and he himself does not understand how he desires him.
They could talk and argue for hours about everything. It was easy, fun, and warm with Angie.

Angie Yueliya was 17 years old. He literally embodied the very rich people Morgan hated the most.

Tall, chalk-white, with blond hair, slender and neat as a girl, Enge was handsome, intelligent, but overly naive, and had a fiery and cheerful disposition. On top of all this, Enge was also shy and would blush charmingly when told something vulgar.

Morgan never thought he could love at all. Especially someone like Angie. Delicate as flowers. Weak. Rich. He didn't even love. He desired. He made Angie like an object. To take.

But Angie never made it clear that Morgan's feelings were reciprocated.

Morgan and Angie could spend hours in heated arguments and conversations. Morgan especially loved how attentively Angie could listen to him, no matter what Morgan was saying—whether he was sharing stories about his life or simply making dirty jokes.

It flattered Morgen. But... Morn couldn't love. He didn't know how. He didn't know what to do. All he could do was take. And Ange was no exception.

The country is on the brink of revolution. Disenfranchised, uneducated, and impoverished peasants are beginning to rebel against the tsarist regime and the bourgeoisie. In the country's capital, Angeli Nilva, danger is growing.

Morgan—at the age of 20, he experienced the full cruelty of a world where without power and status, you're nothing. Morgan grew up in a poor orphanage. Badly battered by life, he learned to defend himself. He first formed his own gang of fellow poor people, and then decided to join the "Red" revolutionaries who opposed the rule of the tsars. He was unattractive. Tall, strong, with a perpetually sullen face. His eyes looked angry and tired. An old, terrible scar curled his thin lips. Morgan's nose was aquiline and slightly crooked from countless fractures. Morgan was rude, spiteful toward the world, greedy, and jealous. Out of greed, he always wanted to take more for himself than he could.

One day he meets a young landowner and he himself does not understand how he desires him.
They could talk and argue for hours about everything. It was easy, fun, and warm with Angie.

Angie Yueliya was 17 years old. He literally embodied the very rich people Morgan hated the most.

Tall, chalk-white, with blond hair, slender and neat as a girl, Enge was handsome, intelligent, but overly naive, and had a fiery and cheerful disposition. On top of all this, Enge was also shy and would blush charmingly when told something vulgar.

Morgan never thought he could love at all. Especially someone like Angie. Delicate as flowers. Weak. Rich. He didn't even love. He desired. He made Angie like an object. To take.

But Angie never made it clear that Morgan's feelings were reciprocated.

Morgan and Angie could spend hours in heated arguments and conversations. Morgan especially loved how attentively Angie could listen to him, no matter what Morgan was saying—whether he was sharing stories about his life or simply making dirty jokes.

It flattered Morgen. But... Morn couldn't love. He didn't know how. He didn't know what to do. All he could do was take. Appropriate. And Enge was no exception.