Sadik let out a fierce growl as he bit down on the back Heracles' neck, releasing into the shivering nation beneath him. "Damn," is the only word he can utter, earning a worn chuckle from Heracles.
A soft, mutual groan escaped the both of them as Sadik pulled out, flopping down on the bed beside the Grecian, surprised when an arm is thrown carelessly, possessively across his chest.
"What's with you?" Sadik asked, trying desperately not to let his discomfort show. He knew what was coming, and he was still unsure of how to handle the situation properly. He knew the phrase that would slip past Heracles' plush lips next, and it sent his stomach turning.
Heracles said nothing, however, just lounging against the Turk's side.
Sadik calmed somewhat in the silence, though he knew that disaster hadn't been completely averted. He'd wager this was the calm before the storm.
"...Sadik?"
The Turk stiffened visibly, though Heracles didn't seem to be too put off by it.
Softly, hesitantly, Sadik replied, "Yeah?"
Heracles spoke with a tone the Turk hadn't heard since the younger nation was been a child: "S agapo."
That single word was enough to set Sadik's blood afire and freeze it at the same time. There were no words to express what he wanted to say.
Sensing something was off, Heracles raised his head to look into his bedmate's eyes. And that was all it took.
Sadik growled to himself, staring blankly at the ceiling while Heracles gathered his things.
Coward, the Turk told himself, though he could do nothing to stop Heracles' leaving, even if he had the inner strength necessary to do so. He found himself unable to move until her heard the door downstairs slam closed. Only then does he rise from the bed, moving to the window to watch Heracles' figure retreat down the walkway leading to the house.
Sadik let out a long sigh, pressing his forehead to the glass and squeezing his eyes shut in an odd mixture of sorrow and self-loathing. He missed Heracles already.
