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Ayato had not been given control-- or rather, it had been forced on him since he was old enough to think for himself.
He had to protect himself, his sister, and the clan those many years ago and Ayato thinks that that was the trigger for his need for absolute complete control because had Ayato made a single misstep and let a single incident leave his perfectly crafted setting, perhaps he wouldn't have anything underneath his grip to even own for himself.
If he were to be pulling the strings, then no one can pull his, to bend him to their will like they had attempted to, before he had steeled himself.
It was not long before his need for control had became want. Ayato delights in the way that people act accordingly to what he demands, whether they are aware of it, the way they are helpless to act accordingly to their own desires and can only fold to Ayato's. What Ayato desires, is what happens.
The only variable, however, that Ayato cannot control is love.
Love is fickle and comes and goes sporadically. Ayato can predict what an enemy strategizes, he can easily influence a person's will to his wanting with just a few words and manipulation, but love is something that Ayato can neither predict nor prevent or cause.
Love is one simple factor that can destroy his entire carefully crafted web of plans that he has in place for everyone and everything.
People put love on a pedestal. There are thousands of novels on love, endless poems of the feeling of love, and for such a fleeting emotion, people treat it as eternity. Ayato loathes the unpredictably of love, the uncertainty of whether or not love would be eternal or not.
It is for this loath of love that Ayato finds himself unable to say he would truly love a person. The familial love with his sister was connected not by love alone, but by blood, however, what could he say for romantic love?
Love was the only thing connecting two people, and with how arbitrary love was, Ayato could not truly trust it, nor would he indulge in this love.
Ayato kept control of people and the same could be said for him. He held his emotions in his fist and puppeteer himself the way he needed to be.
***
It takes a love confession for Ayato to truly think about love, outside of Ayato's simple constraints as chalking up love as a "cursory infatuation."
There were many love confessions for Ayato from many people, noble women, the women that were on the cusp of maturity who still held that fantastical ideology of romance, and even unsaid confessions, conveyed through actions and the looks thrown his way.
For someone who did not particular care for love, he had gotten an abundance of it throughout his life.
Love confessions were nothing new, but it was the fact that he had gotten it from Thoma that had caught him off guard.
Instead of simple disinterest, there is an indescribable emotion that Ayato feels, aside from surprise, at the confession.
"You love me?" Ayato questions, despite the fact that he's already heard Thoma's confession mere seconds ago.
Thoma does not disappoint, because although it was obvious that his first confession was said by mistake, with the way he instantly scrambled and fumbled with his words, attempting to take it back, this time, he responds with a small nod of affirmation.
At the movement, Ayato traces his fingers over Thoma's skin, lightly hovering over skin like the tip of a feather were tickling the surface. Beneath his fingertips, Thoma shivered at every single touch, moving along Ayato's movements, like a marionette on a string.
"Say you love me," Ayato orders, instead of asking this time. He had simply wanted to hear those words over and over again.
"I love you," Thoma obeys, with a quivering voice.
There's a gush of something that floods his brains when Ayato hears those words and he feels the strength of his fingers become stronger as he grips Thoma so tightly, that he feels his fingernails dig into Thoma's skin and vaguely hears Thoma give out a light yelp that his mind barely registers.
What a conundrum Ayato had found himself in. Love. It was so fickle and Ayato did not particularly find the word something meaningful to him, nor was it something he particularly enjoyed due to the fact that he had no control over the concept of love nor could he try to even understand it. But he wanted to hear those words so desperately from Thoma that he felt himself pathetically fold to hear that phrase.
He wanted to hear Thoma say that he loved him. It made his skin tingle and Ayato found excitement flood his senses whenever he had heard proclamations of love dedicated to him from Thoma.
"Again," Ayato commands, despite the contradiction of his thoughts.
This time, Thoma is more hesitant, as he doesn't say anything for a few beats and Ayato tightens his grip so hard that Ayato knows that there will be bruising. Instantly, Thoma folds to his words and whimpers back another, "I love you."
There's a certain part of him that is pleased. The part of him that he couldn't control. The other part of him, the one that strives for order and control, despises that uncontrollable pang that he feels at words of endearment.
Ayato demands over and over again for Thoma to repeat those words and Thoma does, albeit a bit hesitantly, and Ayato could never get tired of those words. He's not sure whether he is more enthralled by, Thoma's words or the look of love that Thoma looks at him with. All he knows is that he cannot look away and he cannot stop wanting to hear those words on loop.
"Do... Do you too?" Thoma asks, interjecting during that small window frame of silence and he looks unsure of himself, lost in the familiar look of worry that Ayato was able to recognize after years of existing alongside Thoma.
The word love was not explicitly said, but Ayato knew it was there, the unsaid word held all of Thoma's emotions, for Ayato could see the faint look of hope when Thoma had asked him so.
Did he love Thoma?
He could not say that he did. Ayato was always the one in control and being the one in love was far from it.
He liked the feeling of being loved, no matter how much he disliked the concept of love and the fickleness that came with it, and he liked Thoma's desperation for his love.
For now, he will keep Thoma tethered to him. Ayato simply smiles and opts to say nothing. He knows Thoma is not brave enough to ask once again, after being ignored the first time, and just as he had predicted, Thoma says nothing, merely having his spark of hope disappear and shifting slightly in his position as he is silent now.
Love. He could not feel it, nor did he particularly want such a useless thing, but he would use it.
Perhaps he could entertain his days with this play of love.
***
Sometimes, Ayato plays the textbook traditional good lover.
He lays kisses on Thoma, he holds his hand, showers him with gifts, and he offers words of affection and fondness.
When they lay together in bed, he is gentle and speaks words of affirmation and comfort as he is not stingy with his praises.
Other times, he is unbearably cruel.
The times when he was gentle in bed is overridden by when he is cruel and rough. He does not wait for Thoma to get used to anything and simply plunders him for his own pleasure, paying no mind to Thoma's own pain.
There is a clear line that he draws with Thoma. He allows Thoma to hover always close to it and he always entices Thoma with the mask of a lover to keep him always nearby, unwilling and unable to leave from that line, but he never lets Thoma get to cross it.
Sometimes, he finds himself entertaining the shallow noble women of their flirtatious comments, their insinuations of eternity through the bonds of marriage and want for the companionship of another, and he indulges them for a few nights, allows them to stay in his own residence for a day or maybe even two.
He does not particularly enjoy their presence. Their perfume reeks heavily and they always titter about, talking his ears off, and if anything, having them by his side is more of a pain than anything else, but he finds that it all pays off to have Thoma come in the next morning, with the unspeakable look on his face as he struggles to properly greet Ayato and match his eyes.
There is undeniable hurt in his eyes, as if he felt betrayed by their pseudo-relationship or whatever play that they put on, and Ayato always finds himself unable to look away from that look.
It is that look of utter reliance and trust that Thoma has for him, underneath all that hurt, despite how many times Ayato has hurt him over and over again.
The look that begs for Ayato's warmth and comes back like a loyal mutt, despite what Ayato has done, begging for whatever leftover affection Ayato has left to spare. And Ayato is not one to have enough affection in the first place, so he never had enough to spare nor give. It is only Thoma that gives in their relationship, consistently giving and never gaining anything to be worth of the amount of love and affection that Thoma pours in for Ayato, for Ayato is a mere vortex.
He takes all of Thoma's love and still, it is not enough for Ayato. He plunders, he consumes, and it is still not enough for Ayato's empty, gaping hole in his heart.
Ayato is a walking paradox, for he wants love, but he hates the prospect of love.
He is shrouded in a wall that separates a clear line between Thoma and he is always in the position of superior to Thoma, whether it be in their professional life and their personal life, keeping Thoma ignorant to his thoughts, while Thoma bares out his heart like an open book.
But Ayato still isn't satisfied with just that.
He was everything from Thoma. He wants his emotions, his thoughts, his words, every aspect of Thoma was Ayato's to own.
Ayato wants to take many things from Thoma, but most importantly of all, he wants Thoma's tears.
He wants to see Thoma cry for him.
No matter how many times Ayato has wounded him, Thoma does not shed a single tear. Thoma does not cry, for he always acts the proper part of his role of a servant of the Kamisato clan. Barring his clumsy confession, he has never done anything out of line of what was expected of him, and that included showing any excess emotions.
Ayato has seen Thoma smile and laugh, but he has never seen Thoma cry. And he wants to see him cry, but only because of Ayato and nothing else. Even Thoma's smiles and laughter were his to cause and for his eyes only.
Perhaps if he were to see Thoma cry over someone else, he'd kill the other because Thoma was his and his alone. He held monopoly over Thoma and every part of his being the moment that Thoma had confessed his love for him.
Thoma was his to cry and his to keep.
****
Eventually, Thoma breaks. Ayato knows how fragile humanity is, but still, he had not intended for Thoma to break and be unable to carry the weight of love, the consequences of living a man like Ayato.
Ayato treats treats every relationship as if it were a transaction, and this transaction was not always fair.
It's after he spent another night with one of the women that he's gotten used to seeing on his bed and when he eagerly waits for Thoma in the morning and his reaction, this time, there is muted despair and hopelessness behind those eyes.
Ayato watches as Thoma enters, like a predator watching his prey. Thoma always shows up in the morning to fulfill his role as a housekeeper deems it.
Ayato could watch Thoma all day, just watching the expressions that flit across his face. He likes to soak in all the expressions on Thoma's face, as long as he is the reason for them to be appearing and he revels in the way that Thoma struggles to even properly glance at him.
Thoma breaks the silence and for once, Ayato finally sees him be unable to endure.
"Do you love me?" He questions in a soft whisper and Ayato would've been unable to hear him if he weren't paying this close attention to Thoma as he always does. Despite the suddenness of the question, it is clear these words are said with much thought behind them, and Ayato is sure that Thoma has probably spent the entirety of their relationship, since the very beginning, mulling over these words, treating this as if it were a last ditch attempt of getting something out of Ayato.
"Does it matter?" Ayato responds, in that idle tone of his. Regardless of all, Ayato always maintains this sense of superiority to Thoma.
"Why do you not answer me?" Thoma begs. "Just tell me if you truly love me or not."
Ayato knows his choice will be the one to decide Thoma's choice. Thoma's love clings onto Ayato so desperately, hopelessly following after him for whatever crumbs of love that Ayato shows him, taking all the hurt that he gives him in stride.
If Ayato were to answer no, Thoma would cleanly break off his love. Despite Ayato's carefully maintained web of plans to instill the feeling of desperation to Ayato, it would all crumble with one simple answer. Ayato is familiar with the type of person Thoma was, and it was his love that had clouded his own decisions, had let him cling to Ayato as long as he was, but the moment he had decided something, it will be resolute and unwavering.
The answer is simple. Ayato is not the type to give his heart to anyone, much less love anyone, and so the answer will be no.
All Ayato needs to answer is a simple no, but he finds himself unable to do so. He doesn't want to say it, because in doing so, he loses all control over Thoma, he will lose that look of love that Thoma had given him and he will no longer be able to bask in those words of affection Thoma gives out so easily.
He thinks of Thoma doling out those tendrils of warmth to anyone else afterwards and he finds himself digging fingernails into his palms. No, he cannot allow anyone to have that, because Thoma was his. Thoma couldn't simply back out now, not after all those love confessions.
But could he say he loved Thoma?
Ayato could not answer Thoma, for he could not answer it himself. He didn't know and he, himself, felt unsure and unable to properly grasp his emotions that he had managed to keep such a firm grasp on all these years, when he had been forced to.
The feeling of uncertainty and being unable to properly understand nor control his feelings irate him, but like every situation, Ayato always forces himself to be in the front and center.
In the beginning of all of this, Ayato had accepted Thoma's love because of his wish to use it, to entertain himself with love.
"I don't," Ayato finally responds nd his voice sounds less colder than he had wished it to be, but compared to others, it is still far more emotionless. "It was always you who one-sidedly chased after me, what gave you the idea that it was reciprocal?"
There's silence and no sign of movement from Thoma. Ayato does not know why he was unable to properly heed a glance at Thoma, he does not know what aspect of him is stopping himself.
When Ayato allows himself to look at Thoma, he was momentarily surprised by the expression on Thoma's face. There is a lot of undeniable hurt, as Ayato had expected, but there were tears forming in the corner of Thoma's eyes, as he struggled to reel back his tears, his hands instantly going upwards to wipe away at the droplets.
"Is that what you truly thought? Then why did you... why did you keep stringing me along? Why did you make me think you possibly could've loved me?" It is almost amusing, how there is still that tone of hope, as if Thoma were clinging onto a plausible reason to continue on loving Ayato.
Ayato wonders why Thoma treasured this love so much. And he wonders how much this love could endure and how long can it last.
"I did it to pass time," Ayato responds, with a languid wave of his hands. It was true that he had done all of the things he had, stringing Thoma along for his own enjoyment, however the reasoning fell shallow even to his own ears, despite how much Ayato had told himself it was the truth.
"You're heartless," Thoma whispers back and today, Ayato finds out Thoma is a silent crier. He is silent out of pure stubbornness, unwilling to let anyone see his hurt as he bit his lips to the point of drawing blood and refused to let out a sound. The instant Thoma and Ayato make eye contact, Thoma instantly draws away.
He had gotten his wish. Thoma was crying because him.
It made for such a pretty sight.
It was all that he had imagined and more.
"I apologize," Thoma corrects himself instantly, hurriedly wiping away the tears that Ayato had wanted to see for longer, and manages to pull himself together in mere moments. "That was improper of me, my lord."
Ayato merely hums in response and dismisses Thoma with a flick of his wrists. Thoma leaves without another word and that is the last he sees of him today, for Ayato doesn't call for him nor does Thoma seek him out either.
During the night, when he was alone in the darkness of his own room, he could only think about Thoma crying.
It was the mixture of utter despair and stark hurt that wedged in with the look of love that still persisted that he could not get over, unable to etch that image away from his mind.
He thought of Thoma, he thought of that look struggling to look unaffected, the look of pain as unshed tears stubbornly attempted to latch on and refuse to fall, before eventually, Thoma could not handle his stinging and biting words, letting those tears fall, looking like a painting.
Most importantly, he thought of the love Thoma had for him still managing to cling on. Thoma's tears were beautiful, but it was those eyes of quiet affection that Ayato loved so much.
He wants more.
He wants Thoma to pay more and more attention to him until Thoma could only think of him. He wants him to get intoxicated at the thought of him, until he couldn't think of anything else.
Thoma only needs to stay by his side forever and Ayato would be content with that.
Ayato wonders how long Thoma would still love him for.
***
He pushes Thoma against the wall, hard enough that it makes the man flinch underneath him, taking a sharp inhale at the sudden pain.
"My lord, you're hurting me," Thoma lets out a hoarse whisper, as Ayato's hands continue to have a tight grip on his shoulders and refuse to let go.
Ayato does not let up his grip as he takes in the feeling of being near Thoma. It had been awhile since he had properly basked in the other's presence, for Thoma was ever so elusive after their argument. Thoma resisted his hold and Ayato felt that explosive anger at the fact that Thoma was trying to run away.
Thoma was avoiding him.
Thoma had been avoiding him in a rather obvious manner and all those times he's visited Ayato out of his own volition has merely changed to Thoma visiting him out of obligation of duty.
Does Thoma think that he can simply forget him? Ayato grits his teeth. Impossible. After he said he loved him? Ayato wouldn't allow him-- he wouldn't let him.
Thoma was his to own, even when they were not in a defined relationship, and Ayato did not like to share.
"Let it hurt," He said, biting words that caused Thoma's face to scrunch up.
"Why are you doing this to me, my lord?" Thoma mumbles and he's stopped attempting to escape Ayato's grasp, but his face looks more worn out, more defeated. Ayato briefly wonders if he could drill the sense of helplessness into him, unable to exist mere moments without Ayato by his side.
"What makes you think that I can't simply because I want to?" Responding, Ayato places one of his hand on Thoma's cheeks, before Thoma moves his face away from his hand in an instant.
"You said you didn't love me, that everything was my own delusion, so I gave you exactly what you wanted," Thoma argues, indignantly.
"Oh? Then what exactly did you think what I wanted was?"
"I-I'm not sure, my lord."
"If you didn't know, then why did you assume things?" Ayato says through gritted teeth. "Why did you act any different from the way we used to be if you didn't know? If I don't tell you otherwise, then don't act otherwise."
"Then you wanted me to still come back to you completely in love? Even if you didn't love me?" The volume of his voice was raised upwards for the first time in the conversation and it was the first time Thoma had ever raised his voice at him. Even when Ayato had trampled over his feelings, Thoma had merely been reduced to a whisper. "I can't do that. Not when I know you don't love me back."
"And if I were to order you?"
"I'm sorry, my lord, but that's one request I cannot fulfill."
"Then if I say I love you? Would you?"
Perhaps, there was always some part of Ayato that knew that whatever this ambiguous feeling that Ayato felt whenever he was with Thoma was love, because when the words don't surprise him. In hindsight, this feeling was very clear and quite obvious, but Ayato had muddled his vision with the hatred and disdain of love. He did not want to be in love, but he found himself hopelessly having fallen into the pits of love.
"What are you-- Excuse me?"
"I love you," Ayato tests it out in his own mouth for the first time. What he had heard a thousand times from Thoma had finally escaped his own lips and it felt foreign, but strangely fitting.
"What?" Thoma says, astonishment filling his entire being, as if the concept of Ayato loving him couldn't possibly be true. And perhaps, if it had been mere minutes ago, Ayato would've been astonished at the thought too, but now, at this moment, all Ayato feels is that brimming warmth in his heart at the sight of Thoma, that bubbling need to take what was rightfully his.
"What, don't believe me?" Ayato asks.
"No, I don't," Thoma says and it is a cross between defiance and uncertainty. "Is this some sort of joke?"
"Would I be the type to joke about this?" Ayato questions, before pausing and giving a sardonic chuckle. "Or perhaps I am."
Thoma's astonishment gets reduced back into a self-deprecating look. "Please stop joking about this, my lord... Let's just act as if nothing had happened between us and act as we always have. Can't we?" Thoma begs the last part of his sentence softly.
The relaxed smile on Ayato's face drops and he feels irritation crawl upwards at the thought of merely forgetting their whole ordeal. Does Thoma wish to forget? Ayato wouldn't let him, he'll keep Thoma chained to him if he had to, constantly thinking of only him.
"Forget? Can you forget love really that easily?"
Ayato wants to be Thoma's only sense of reprieve, that he were the only lifeline Thoma could get ahold of, and if Ayato were to leave him he'd think that he were helpless, stuck on a tightrope that he were sure to fall off of.
"I've... I no longer love you, my lord, so you don't have to worry anymore," Thoma responds and his head is tilted downwards, eyes refusing to make contact with Ayato's. "You don't have to worry so we can go back to how it used to be."
Ayato doesn't respond for a few beats and they stretch on long enough for Thoma to finally lift his head up, worriedly searching for Ayato's reaction.
It is when Thoma finally meets his eyes does Ayato react, a smile flitting on his face, cheery and bright. Thoma visibly tenses up, despite the expression on his face, and it is his years of working with Ayato that causes him to react so.
"Thoma, don't you get it?" Ayato laughs humorlessly as he inches closer to Thoma. "It doesn't matter if you love me or not. What matters is that I love you."
"Enough with the jokes, my--"
His hands reach out, grabbing Thoma's face and yanking it harshly to his own face. Ayato can feel a smile on his own face, but he is not sure how amicable it looks, based on Thoma's vague look of horror.
"Love really is as fickle as I believed it to be, Thoma. You said you'd love me forever, but now you tell me you don't love me?" Ayato laughs sardonically.
"That's different. You forced me not to love you."
"If you truly had loved me, would that have mattered?"
"I don't understand what you're saying, my lord."
Thoma's face plasters on a look of frustration and confusion, unable to properly comprehend his words. It was of no matter, for Ayato will drill his teachings inside Thoma's head.
"Fret not, my dear one. I hate fickle things." Ayato did not come to love things, spurned love even. But for the rare things he did, he would never let go, for that was his philosophy. "Unlike your love, mine will last you an eternity."
Thoma doesn't respond. He bits his lips, hard enough to the point of drawing blood, and he looks like he has many things to say but is opting not to say it. Out of helplessness, uncertainty, or fear? Ayato doesn't know but he doesn't mind the silence, so long as Thoma merely listens to his instructions.
Smiling, Ayato leaned closer to Thoma, to the point their foreheads were close to touching. "You're mine. For eternity."
For the first time, Ayato sees fear in Thoma's eyes towards him. He's seen every hurt, every look of love, happiness, and numerous other emotions, but he's never seen fear.
His fear.
He could not hold back his grin at the thought that he was the reason for this fear, like every other emotion was. He couldn't allow Thoma to be affected by anyone else and now, he was unable to, locked inside their own world as Thoma's entire world would only become Ayato in this room.
He yanks Thoma's face to his and linked their lips together, exploring the insides of his mouth that he had been so familiar with, yet had not been able to indulge himself with recently. His kisses were usually as controlled as he was, but after a long time of not engaging in such activity, he felt a raw, unbridled urge and could not help but kiss with a twinge of animalistic desperation.
When they pull away, Thoma is flushed and stands there, with wide eyes for a few seconds before he moves to push Ayato off and Ayato does not resist much and lets himself be pushed off as Thoma hurriedly excuses himself, running off and leaving Ayato alone.
Ayato decides to let Thoma enjoy his few remaining moments of having a semblance of control he thought he had before he pulled him right back next to his side, where he rightfully belonged.