Panther Park I can't escape you

He doesn't mean to eavesdrop; he isn't even aware Takiyok and Taikon are nearby, until he hears the distant sound of voices.

He almost turns away. He almost leaves them to their conversation, unwilling to intrude.

"What would that relationship even look like? Would you not want to have children with me?"

Relationship. Children. He freezes, knowing immediately that Takiyok can't be talking to her niece. He knows, at least, that it doesn't work that way. His thoughts race, tuning him out of the conversation, a jumble of growing hurt. It takes a moment for him to remember to listen, to confirm his fears.

"Of course I would —"

He doesn't hear the rest. He doesn't need to. The picture is painted clearly for him, ugly garish colors he never thought he'd see from Taikon. This time the myriad hurts — it isn't beautiful or captivating or comforting. It's daggers in his eyes, the sharp unwinding of the threads wrapped around his heart, snapping and fraying under the friction. Taikon had lied to him. He'd never meant to make anything more of their encounter. Maybe he'd even seduced him on purpose, to ensure their smooth journey out of the mountains. It doesn't matter, now. Zephyr sees the truth, though it hadn't been meant for his eyes.

Taikon is just like Mal. Just like Kavik. Just like every man who has ever walked into his life and promised protection.

And that's okay.

Tears fill his eyes as he turns away, but they never reach his cheeks. This is the way it was meant to be, the wraith mouths to himself as he leaves the scene where he's so starkly out of place. He was never mine.

This is the way of the world, the will of the Daedra — and there is beauty to be found even in the dark bitter blues of heartbreak.