[BL]Hunted by the God of Destruction Chapter 7: Coffee

Morning ca quietly.

Light slipped in through the narrow gap in the curtains, pale and diffused, washing over the cramped room with that early haze that made everything look softer than it was. Elias didn’t stir.

He was still half-buried in the blankets, one arm folded under the pillow, his hair damp against the cotton from the night before. His breathing was even, his face slack with the rare kind of sleep that ca only after total exhaustion, when the body won over the mind and dragged it down, whether it liked it or not.

The room was still.

Then the phone buzzed, sharp and sudden against the nightstand.

Elias frowned in his sleep, shifting just slightly, not ready to open his eyes yet. He’d set no alarms. He knew he hadn’t. There were no lectures today, no lab rotations. No responsibilities except maybe trying not to lose his grip on reality.

The buzzing didn’t stop. Not an alarm, but a call.

He reached for it blindly, face still pressed into the pillow, thumb swiping the screen with the practiced coordination of soone who had done this too many tis before.

The na on the display made his heart catch in his throat.

Matteo.

He sat up slowly, the sheets sliding off his shoulders. The cold hit his skin imdiately.

He answered. "Matt?"

"Elias... shit, I hope I didn’t wake you." Matteo’s voice was already too alert, too serious. "Listen, I’ve got an update. The form you sent? The anonymous welfare check?"

Elias rubbed a hand over his face, still trying to catch up. "Yeah...?"

"It was flagged. Instantly. Not by accident, not algorithmic. It was marked. The mont it hit the system, the Nun family’s legal team sent a confirmation to every relevant departnt. She’s not missing."

Elias’s stomach turned.

"They said she’s at the manor. Their main estate. Didn’t give anything else."

There was a pause.

"Elias... are you okay?" Matteo asked, quieter now. "You’ve done this before, man. Gone dark. Worked yourself sick. I know how you get when you’re too far in your own head. I just... I had to check. You good?"

Elias stared at the floor, eyes unfocused, phone still warm in his hand.

His mind was already racing.

’The manor?’

Ruo hated that place. Hated the silence. The control. The sheer suffocation of expectation built into every room. She once took rut inducers, dically sanctioned, just inconvenient enough, to fabricate the perfect excuse not to attend a sumr gathering. Said she’d rather suffer chemically induced migraines than eat under that roof.

And now she was there? Voluntarily?

’No.’

That didn’t sit right.

But he couldn’t tell Matteo that.

Couldn’t explain the way she looked when she talked about that estate. Couldn’t say, "she called it the cage with chandeliers."

And he definitely couldn’t admit the rest, that Matteo wasn’t wrong.

That he had gone dark before. That there had been long weeks where research consud him so completely the real world faded around the edges, soft and irrelevant. That more than once, he’d missed birthdays, ignored ssages, and skipped als until soone noticed.

It wasn’t that far-fetched to think maybe this was one of those tis.

So he took the only path left. A soft lie wrapped in sothing close enough to the truth.

"I’m sorry for bothering you, Matteo," Elias said, his voice quieter now, gentler. "Honestly... I thought she wouldn’t forget her phone at ho. But maybe she just changed it. I don’t know."

A beat passed on the line.

"Don’t worry about it," Matteo replied, but the concern was still there, thin and audible. "I’d rather you check than sit on it and spiral. I an that."

Elias nodded, even though Matteo couldn’t see it. "I know. Thanks."

Then, Matteo’s voice again, lighter now, slipping back into the casual charm he always wore like a second skin.

"So..." Matteo drawled, his tone shifting back to that easy, cocky warmth Elias had co to expect from him, especially when things got too serious. "Am I finally getting that second chance?"

Elias blinked, already rubbing a hand over his face. "Matteo."

"What?" Matteo sounded far too innocent. "I’m just saying, both single, both recessive, and I am a respectable public servant with a flexible schedule and excellent aim."

Elias huffed a short laugh. "You’re a cop, Matt. You literally carry a gun for a living."

"And you carry burnout like it’s a thesis accessory," Matteo shot back, unbothered. "Which is why you need soone to force you out of the lab at least three days a week. I’m willing to sacrifice."

Elias let his head tilt back against the wall, eyes half-closed, the ghost of a smile playing at his mouth.

"A noble act of public service?"

"Exactly. Consider it community outreach."

"You’re unbelievable."

"And yet, tragically single," Matteo said with mock regret. "My charm goes unappreciated in this cold, academic world."

"You sound like you’re pitching yourself as the reward tier in a charity auction."

"At least give a chance to redeem that coffee incident."

Elias let out a breathy, amused sound, sothing between a scoff and a reluctant laugh.

"That was ten years ago."

"And I’ve improved dramatically since," Matteo said without missing a beat. "I’ve read two books on conversation, I own real furniture now, and I no longer think black coffee is a personality trait."

"You still flirt like a teenager," Elias said, leaning into the familiar rhythm because it was easier than thinking too hard about everything else.

"And yet you’re still answering my calls. Makes you wonder who the real fool is."

Elias didn’t answer right away. His smile faded just slightly, replaced with that quiet kind of fondness that always ca with too little sleep and soone who didn’t ask for more than he could give.

"At least you’re consistent," he said softly.

"Consistently available," Matteo replied. "Offer stands. No pressure. Just... sothing to think about when you’re not unraveling conspiracies or pretending to be okay on two hours of sleep."

Elias rubbed his face, fingers dragging over his mouth as if that could keep the smile from forming.

"Fine," he muttered, amusent slipping in despite himself. "One chance. Today."

There was a pause. Then—

"Man, I’m on shift today," Matteo groaned. "Swear to god, the universe is out to humble ."

Elias let out a soft laugh. "Tragic."

"But," Matteo added quickly, recovering, "luckily for you, I finish early. How does four p.m. sound?"

Elias leaned back on the bed, staring at the cracked ceiling like it might hold an answer he didn’t want to say aloud.

’Four p.m.’

A completely normal ti. A normal thing.

He closed his eyes for a mont.

"Four’s fine."

"You’re not going to ghost , right?"

"I said fine, didn’t I?"

"You also said that the last ti I suggested we et, and then you disappeared into a data set for seventy-two hours straight."

Elias didn’t deny it. Just rolled onto his side, dragging the blanket half over himself.

"I’ll be there."

"...Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Matteo exhaled like he’d been waiting for that exact word.

"I’ll text you the place."

"Looking forward to the interrogation?" Elias said dryly.

Matteo laughed. "No, but I am looking forward to seeing you upright, dressed like a human, and not sleepwalking through a breakdown."

Elias shook his head. "You ask too much."

"Worth it," Matteo said, and then the line clicked off.

Elias stayed there a while longer, the phone still in his hand, staring out the small window where the light had finally started to shift into morning.

Four p.m.

It almost felt like a plan.