Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Phainon! What's your type?” Hyacine suddenly asked.

Phainon was taken aback by the sudden question, pointing at himself “Me?”

“Haha, sorry let me explain—” she clears her throat.

“Cassie and the other students were gossiping about people's ideal types! She happened to get curious about yours.”

Castorice quickly got shy from her name being mentioned,

“..Ah well, I wouldn't say gossiping— However it is true that I am quite curious about Lord Phainon's ideal partner..” she smiled sheepishly.

“I'm curious about it too!~ So c'mon, tell us Phainon!” Hyacine’s eyes twinkled.

Ideal partner..

Phainon pondered about it for a moment—

In a library, Anaxa was struggling to reach up to a book in a high level bookshelf.

Not long after, another arm reached up to it and grabbed it, Phainon handed the book with a smile. “Here you go Professor Anaxa—”

“It's Professor Anaxagoras.” Anaxa cuts him off sternly.

As Anaxa occupies himself with the book, Phainon's gaze narrows slightly at their height difference.

“I'd like someone tall.” Phainon began,

Phainon's gaze eventually lowers down to Anaxa's eyes, noticing his eyebags and pale skin.

“Someone that can take care of themselves,” he continued.

Before finally his gaze landed on the scholar's frail body.

“And someone with more muscle.” Phainon finished.

Hyacine's imagination ran as Phainon listed his ideal type, a familiar image popped up in her mind with his descriptions. “That sounds like Mydei!” she exclaimed.

Phainon quickly waved his hands dismissively, “Haha, it's a coincidence! Mydei is just a good friend of mine..!” he clarified.

“..Really? I thought Professor Anaxagoras would be your type Phainon.” Castorice chimed in with a hint of skepticism.

“What?! Professor Anaxa??” Hyacine exclaimed in surprise.

“..Ah, it's just an assumption of mine, sorry..—”

“No, I wouldn't blame you for assuming that.” Phainon smiled sheepishly.

“Professor Anaxa.. is a very extraordinary man, there are many admirers of him.” He added.

“But.. I just can't imagine myself having feelings for him.” 

“Besides, there's no way he would have feelings for someone like me in the first place..!” Phainon jokingly said.

I shouldn't have said that.

At all.

He must have known it.

All those special classes— 

Those extra attention and care by Anaxa—

Glances that last more than necessary and those lingering touches.

Phainon must have known about Anaxa's feelings.

Yet he turned a blind eye to it.

Excusing it as a kind gesture from his beloved Professor, when really, he was a coward.

Despite overhearing that Anaxa's feelings will not be reciprocated by him, Anaxa continued to treat him the same as always.

What was your expression when I said those cruel words, Anaxa?

Embarrassed? Enraged? Ashamed?

Knowing you— You'd probably still hold that tender gaze towards me as always. 

Or maybe not, I hardly understand you Anaxa.

One day, another accident happened during Anaxa's experiments in the lab.

Phainon heard an explosion and quickly rushed to Anaxa's lab.

Pushing the door open, thick smoke filled the air. Phainon's vision was obscured by the smoke, “Professor! Are you alright?!” he shouted.

Without waiting for a response, he entered. Phainon spotted a figure— laying on the ground, assuming it was his Professor passing out, he quickly carried him out of the lab.

The moment they were out, Phainon tried to assess Anaxa's condition— Only to find Anaxa's body limp and bloody in his arms.

Too much blood—

His name.

Call his name.

“..Anaxa?”

No response.

The trip to the Twilight Courtyard was a blur to Phainon. All he could remember and feel was the light weight in his arms as he ran. 

His hands couldn't stop shaking.

”Phai.. non..!”

He didn't know his heart could beat so hard before this. Ears ringing as he looked back at his palms that were covered by Anaxa's blood— He wanted to believe that it was something else, part of Anaxa's experiment maybe?—

”Phainon..!”

Phainon quickly snapped back to reality as he noticed Hyacine standing before him, concern and worry was visible on her expression.

“..Hyacine..! sorry— I..” his voice trailed off.

Now isn't the time to think about yourself.

“Nevermind, how's Professor..?” he held a strained smile, closing his palms away.

“..Prof’s condition is quite severe, he lost a lot of blood..”

He'll be fine. 

He's always been fine.

He needs has to be.

There's no way something like this could take him away.

Right?

Phainon didn't even look at his face once when he visited Anaxa.

He was afraid that the unconscious scholar would look at him in disappointment. Or worse, nothing at all, perhaps the scholar won't waste his energy to control his facial muscles for Phainon.

The room was silent, the only sound was the heart monitor as well as his own breathing and another weak breathing.

I should've been kinder to you.

I should've considered your feelings first.

I knew you were there, yet I acted naive and oblivious.

How could you tolerate such behavior, Anaxa?

How did someone like you manage to love me?

Thoughts like these continued to cloud over his mind, expecting the scholar to answer his troubles as always.

The scholar has always been his guide,

His teacher,

His light,

His mentor,

The voice of his reason,

The one who held him together more than he noticed.

I don't want to lose him.

Of course he doesn't, he's always been selfish.

Only scared of losing someone that benefits him.

But only silence remained.

He didn't dare to utter a word nor face the scholar.

And with that, Phainon left the room, turning his back on him again.

A coward.

Unable to face the damage he has caused.

Didn't even bother to look back nor say a word.

Such a heartless monster you've chosen to love Professor.

As he walked through the long hallways, 

he thought— No, he believed that it's not love.

He’s not even desperate for Anaxa's life.

Not even shakened by the situation.

He kept denying— even went so far in finding excuses to keep avoiding the truth.

The more he digs through his own memories and moments with Anaxa, his excuses thinned.

How could he keep denying it when all the signs were there?

Phainon laughed bitterly under his breath—

Strained and small, a sound only he can hear.

“..What have I done..?” he mumbled in a whisper to himself.

He hates doesn't like this.

He could feel his throat tightening.

His eyes welled up with tears.

Yet he denied it, held back.

Choked on it again.

His beloved teacher is dying right now,

And all he does is think about his feelings?

Of all times?

Go back.

His heart A voice in his head told him.

What is he even going to do back there? What can he even do or say—

Just go.

Before Phainon could even respond back, footsteps could be heard. Fast and panicked.

“..Phainon! It's.. it's Professor..!” Hyacine came up to him with tears welling up in her eyes.

He did go back.

But the door wasn't opened by him.

He was dragged in by circumstance, by other's grief and Hyacine's choking sobs.

He finally managed to look back up at Anaxa's face,

Only because a white sheet was covering it.

Phainon felt his world stilled for a moment, briefly.

Among the mourners, Phainon didn't shed a single tear during the scholar's passing.

In fact, he felt nothing.

Weeks passed by after his funeral, and Phainon remained normal.

Of course he was, that's just the kind of person he was afterall.

How could he ever love others with such a cold heart?

Phainon would notice that he could still laugh and smile from joy.

Sleep peacefully at the end of the day.

His appetite unaffected.

It was as if life never lost its color.

I should feel something

Shouldn't I?

He wished waited for the scholar's name to burn in his chest.

For the sleepless nights.

For guilt to choke him as he breathes.

He didn't want to heal yet.

But what exactly is there to heal from?

There was no wound in his heart.

He has no right to feel conflicted or troubled by this—

He never loved him.

He even announced it to everyone,

To him.

Cruelly.

So why is he running back to that room?

Phainon went back to Anaxa's hospital room,

He didn't hesitate to enter now, 

Where was that confidence before?

Stepping into the empty and sterile room.

The bed sat quietly, sheets replaced, devoid of warmth.

He walked towards the empty bed, stood beside it as his gaze narrowed down on it.

He should’ve been more considerate,

More caring and thoughtful back then.

Maybe then, Anaxa would've known that he was loved more than he knew—

Phainon stared down to the empty bed once again, The truth finally caught on to him as he ran out of excuses.

I loved you

He hated how late it sounds.

Hated how it sounds more like pity love than pure love.

“..I love you.” he admitted, barely above whisper.

The first time he confessed,

was to an empty bed.

Nothing changed.

The bed didn't stir.

The sheets didn't warm.

And there was no voice to answer to his confession.

Chapter Text

The liquid in the glass beaker hissed softly, light steam curling from the surface.

The result was identical as the last one— no changes nor breakthroughs despite how much he used different substances.

How many times has he done this?

Ten? Twenty? No matter.

Anaxagoras exhaled slowly, recording the same results on the report sheet. His handwriting remained neat despite his growing fatigue.

He needs more sources— older manuscripts, any old data, anything that might come in handy for his current experiment.

A short walk to the library should suffice.

As he stepped into the corridors, 

The Grove of Epiphany was filled with sounds of distinct chatter and students drifting between classes.

Anaxagoras kept his gaze ahead as he walked with a clear purpose as always.

Anaxagoras paused, noticing his three exceptional students together in the courtyard.

The scene was harmless,

Phainon smiling easily with Hyacine and Castorice.

He can't help but be pleased at the carefree scene.

Just as Anaxagoras was about to continue his walk, he heard his name being mentioned—

“..Really? I thought Professor Anaxagoras would be your type Lord Phainon.” 

Castorice's voice could be faintly heard.

Anaxagoras’ eyes widened in surprise as he stayed still in his position.

“What?! Professor Anaxa??”

Hyacine exclaimed in surprise.

“..Ah, it's just an assumption of mine, sorry..—”

Castorice quickly back-tracked.

“No, I wouldn't blame you for assuming that.” Phainon smiled.

“Professor Anaxa.. is a very extraordinary man, there are many admirers of him.”

“But.. I just can't imagine myself having feelings for him.”

Phainon's voice was calm, certain, and honest.

Anaxagoras stilled,

For a second the corridors became quiet.

He simply turned away before anyone noticed him.

“Besides, there's no way he would have feelings for someone like me in the first place..!”

The library smelled of dust, ink, and old paper— All things Anaxagoras was far too familiar with.

He didn't mean to eavesdrop,

Didn't mean to hear it.

Anaxagoras’ hand stretched towards the spine of a book, acquiring it by himself.

“It's nothing unexpected.” he murmured to himself.

Anaxagoras continued to stack books and scrolls,

Heavy ones,

Many.

Anaxagoras exhaled softly, lowering his gaze slightly.

He had long accepted Phainon's affection as merely an act of admiration as a student.

He knew that the young man's feelings can be changed,

It's possible.

And it's fine.

Phainon has his own responsibilities to carry and Anaxagoras has his own path to take.

Yet, his heart can't help but tighten.

Stepping out of the library, the weight of the books and scrolls shifted dangerously in Anaxagoras’ arms.

Until a familiar hands steadies them with ease.

“Careful there Prof, let me help!” His voice friendly and warm helpful as always.

Phainon’s patient hands waited for Anaxagoras to hand his heavy materials, the scholar's grip tightened slightly.

Before carefully releasing a few in Phainon's hands.

“..You have my gratitude.” He thanked Phainon.

Their gaze met— only briefly before Anaxagoras looked away.

Despite that brief gaze, Phainon's bright smile would always be seen and remembered by Anaxagoras.

“And it's Professor Anaxagoras.” he corrected Phainon, but the edge of his tone softened.

Phainon would only hold a soft smile in response.

“..Prof, have you been experimenting again?” his voice becoming worried.

Anaxagoras simply huffed,

“And what of it?”

“That means you haven't slept or even eaten yet Prof.”

By then they arrived at Anaxagoras’ lab,

Anaxagoras went in first and instructed Phainon on where to put the books.

“Wait for me Prof—” 

Phainon suddenly turned back and left Anaxagoras’ lab.

One of his eyebrows quirked upwards in confusion, yet he didn't dwell on it further.

Continuing his research.

While Anaxagoras browse through the books and scrolls—

The door suddenly opened, turning his head to the door, he saw Phainon.

Anaxagoras’ gaze soon fell to Phainon's hand—

It was a bowl of salad.

The young man walked up to him with his usual smile, placing down the bowl near Anaxagoras.

“I present to you— A specialty from Aedes Elysiae!” he presented with a hint of pride.

Phainon's thoughtful actions would always effortlessly soften Anaxagoras’ frail heart. 

Glancing down at the bowl, it was pretty simple.

Lettuce and some sliced tomatoes.

“..How thoughtful of you Phainon.”

Before Phainon had to return to his own duties, the young man made sure the scholar had at least eaten a few bites and parted ways. 

Leaving with a soft grin on his face as always.

Anaxagoras was left alone once again.

..Since when did he pay attention to his loneliness?

Open books and scrolls were scattered on his desk and floor,

The sound of glassware clinking faintly,

I just can't imagine myself having feelings for him.

Anaxagoras lifted the glass beaker, observing the substance.

Of course you can't,

What is there to feel about him?

He pressed the pipette lightly, releasing a few drops into the glass beaker.

Phainon deserves to be happy with someone better.

Someone who won't burden him with their lifestyle.

The liquid in the glass beaker hissed softly again,

Recording the same result on the report sheet.

Anaxagoras acknowledges his feelings towards Phainon,

How selfish it was.

So he intends to give up,

For his sake.

Anaxagoras sets his pen down,

Letting out a soft yet shaky exhale.

His fingers trembled slightly— Not visible, just enough to feel it.

“..Focus.” he murmured to himself, continuing his experiment.

Yet, the tightness of his chest didn't seem to ease anytime soon.

Those bright and carefree eyes does not see him,

Not in the way your eyes soften whenever he's near—

HISS—

Hiss?

Snapping out of his thoughts, he was met with a bubbling and hot liquid in the glassware—

He was wrong.

Before Anaxagoras could retract back, the liquid began to overflow— unstable.

A thin crack formed across the glass—

CRACK!

The beaker ruptured, boiling liquid splashed over.

Burning droplets scattered over the open books and the scrolls—

Flames erupted within seconds,

Thick black smoke began to form in the lab.

Anaxagoras staggered backwards, covering his mouth and nose with his sleeve.

He reached for the door—

It didn't budge at all.

The door was jammed.

The smoke continued to suffocate him—

His limbs grew heavier and weaker as he coughed.

His eyes were stung by the smoke, throat burning.

Not now.

Not like this—

Anaxagoras stumbled back, his hand slipped over the edge of the table—

Glass shattered beneath him as he hit the floor.

As his vision darkens,

He caught a glimpse of a familiar figure,

The figure's movement were panicked as they rushed over to him.

He could feel a warm hand holding his limbs,

Carrying him out of the lab.

It has to be you.

Who else holds me so carefully like this?

As if I'll break if you let go.

Don’t let go of me yet.

How long has it been since he passed out?

Hours? Days?

He would rather continue his research than drift in this silent darkness.

Boredom he calls it,

Or maybe he doesn't have any distractions to push out his feelings.

Anaxagoras knew those warm hands will drift away,

leaving him cold once again.

He kept indulging it.

Savoring it,

Quietly.

But despite all that,

He would never regret loving or caring about him.

It was never a waste loving Phainon.

Anaxagoras thought he had more time,

More experiments to try.

More time to listen Hyacine's nagging. 

More time to read Castorice's stories.

More memories with Phainon.

It's quite a selfish thought really,

He doesn't mean to burden Phainon with these heavy and fragile matters.

He only wants Phainon happy.

Anaxagoras has always been a logical man,

The voice of reason and truth will always prevail.

But when it comes to Phainon of Aedes Elysiae?

Reason falters,

The human heart takes over.

Even if it would bleed,

Messy,

Crushed—

As long as it's Phainon's gentle hands holding it,

He is sure that the pain will never be cruel.

For that is how Phainon is.

Kind-hearted,

Selfless,

Caring,

Thoughtful,

Compassionate,

Considerate,

Heroic—

Oh, what is there not to admire about Phainon?

Even his flaws— his humane side was something the scholar is fond of.

Anaxagoras will never regret his decision of loving Phainon.

For he will continue to carry it and die with his choices.

In the quiet of his fading life,

Anaxagoras allowed himself with one selfish thought,

To have a place in Phainon's heart.

If you allow it.

If you have spare room in your heart,

Even if it's a corner of it—

Let it be mine.