Reincarnation and … Honeydew?

.・゜-: ✧ :-　　-: ✧ :-゜・．

His determination cooling the strongest of the embers of his fury, Okjin breathed through his nose and blinked a few times, trying to make sense of his surroundings. 

The room was dim, with only soft rays of afternoon sun sneaking through the curtains. 

He shifted his weight, leaning towards the bed frame for support, feeling the weight of his new body pressing him down, his limbs sluggish as if his muscles were still waking up.

"So this is Lirien's body..." he thought, the words feeling foreign but undeniable. 

His hand rose instinctively to rub his forehead, then froze.

Something wasn't right. He replayed the memory that had flooded his mind—the one with Angelica. 

She wasn't like that in the novel. She was always calm, poised, never so… blunt. And Lirien, the lazy, indifferent person who avoided interaction—wasn't that what the novel had described?

Okjin glanced at the window, the soft light of afternoon making him wonder how long he'd been asleep. "Well, if Lirien naps in the afternoon, that part must be true, at least." 

'From my experience, Celestial beings usually push their dirty work onto others so I guess his behavior is right on the money' 

His thoughts turning sour once more from thinking back on how he had been screwed over by the gods, Okjin shook his head, ridding himself of negative thoughts.

 He sighed, scanning the room around him. 

His body felt sluggish, too heavy for someone his age. No wonder he preferred to sleep in. 

But it wasn't just the fatigue. There was a strange sensation—a weight to everything. Maybe it was the result of being reincarnated.

Lirien's room was far from ordinary. It wasn't the ostentatious display of wealth he expected, but the kind of quiet luxury that spoke of true wealth and careful taste.

 The polished mahogany desk gleamed softly in the afternoon light, papers stacked in what appeared to be chaotic piles, yet there was an order to them that Okjin couldn't ignore. 

It reminded him of his university days—organized chaos, each paper a piece of an intricate puzzle only Lirien seemed to understand.

The bed was the centerpiece. A dark wood frame supported numerous soft, silk sheets, their shimmering surface mirroring the deep blues and silvers that decorated the room. 

Everything in the room spoke of wealth and refinement, but with subtlety. It was the kind of room where someone could retreat into privacy, but the comfort wasn't just for the sake of luxury. It felt important.

 Lirien, or rather, Okjin now, was a person with immense responsibility—even if he hadn't yet fully grasped it.

A peculiar detail caught his attention—there were no mirrors in the room. It struck him as odd, but he didn't have time to dwell on it.

With curiosity nudging him forward, Okjin stood and made his way toward the bathroom. How did he know where it was? He paused but the thought passed as quickly as it came.

Once inside, he froze in front of the mirror.

The person staring back at him was both familiar and utterly foreign.

Lirien's beauty was beyond anything Okjin had ever seen—it wasn't just beautiful, it was exquisite.

 Too perfect, too delicate. Not human.

 His translucent skin seemed to glow faintly, stretched over impossibly delicate features sculpted with an elegance that felt almost unreal. His high cheekbones and slender neck made him appear fragile, almost ethereal.

Silver-white hair fell around his face in weightless, silken strands, catching the dim light like woven stardust. His eyes—no, Lirien's eyes—were ice and fire, a glacial blue that shimmered with something deeper, something endless. 

They pierced through the glass, through him, holding a depth that felt centuries old.

Long lashes cast delicate shadows on his porcelain complexion. His lips, soft and plump with a natural curve, seemed almost too inviting.

 There was a slight flush to his cheeks, a faint blush that brought warmth to his otherwise ghostly appearance. The contrast made him look even more untouchable. More unreal.

Okjin lifted a trembling hand, and the reflection mirrored him—a phantom of light and frost, an illusion made real. 

He pressed his palm against the glass, staring at fingers that were long, graceful, and eerily poised. Even the smallest movements felt unnaturally fluid, as if he were something crafted rather than born.

 There was an ethereal glow to him, something untouchable, something that did not belong to this world.

He was beautiful. No—not beautiful. That word was too small, too human. This face, this body—it was something beyond beauty, beyond comprehension.

 It was the kind of breathtaking that silenced rooms, that made hearts stop mid-beat, that turned admiration into reverence and longing into despair.

Okjin exhaled, and even that felt elegant, effortless.

He stared at the reflection in disbelief. This wasn't the Lirien he had read about.

How could someone so fragile-looking be capable of wielding such terrifying power?

The body before him screamed femininity—too delicate, too frail for the strength he knew Lirien possessed. The dissonance between this beauty and the celestial force that had reshaped the world itself was staggering. He could barely reconcile the two.

Then, a thought slipped into his mind—he's too pretty.

He immediately shook his head, embarrassed. He's prettier than both female leads combined!

Okjin grimaced, shaking his head again. What fatal looks.

The beauty was almost… unsettling. If the people around Lirien knew just how entrancing he was, it made sense why he avoided social events, why he wore a veil cover whenever he went outside. Though the semi-translucent fabric did little to hide his beauty, it was at least a small comfort.

...At least... he thought it was?

Why and how had he known that? Lirien's veiled face had been described in the novel, but why did he know how Lirien had felt?

…

He sighed in frustration pushing the disturbing thought to process later and returned to his previous thoughts. Still staring at his own reflection, Okjin was suddenly filled with frustration.

Why the hell does this look so tempting? I'm just standing there!

He quickly turned away, determined to focus on something else. Vanity had no place here.

Returning to the bedroom, Okjin paused to replay another memory—the one of Jerry, the servant, and their interactions.

His movements were deliberate as he tried to copy Lirien's demeanor. He had to—he couldn't afford to make a mistake. He wasn't entirely sure why, but this persona, this life, felt like something he had to protect.

When Jerry entered the room with breakfast, Okjin barely looked up as the man set down the plate. His eyes, however, caught Jerry's slight, surprised expression when Okjin reached for the food.

"What is it?" Okjin asked bluntly, though the words came out more cold than curious.

"It's nothing, my lord," Jerry replied quickly, but there was still something odd in his voice.

"It's just… I'm glad that you are choosing to start off your day with something more nutritious than tea"

"Huh."

Okjin made a mental note, thinking over the implications. Was Lirien really that picky?

He glanced down at the meal in front of him—tea and... honeydew? He said it out loud by mistake.

Jerry blinked, a perplexed look on his face.

"My lord, are you referring to the crystal melon? If it is not to your liking, I can go to the gardens and prepare another one."

Okjin quickly waved his hand. "No, it's fine," he said, but inside, he cringed. 

'Honeydew'? Really? This world is different, Okjin. Get it together.

He bit into the melon and was surprised at how sweet and refreshing it was. His usual tastes in his old life had never been this particular, but here, the simplicity of the fruit was satisfying. He finished the breakfast in silence, while Jerry stood nearby, watching him with wide eyes.

Okjin caught the servant's expression.

 So Lirien doesn't usually eat much, huh?

He replayed the memory of Lirien's usual breakfasts and realized the truth. The memory made it clear—Lirien had always left his meals untouched, a habit that Okjin now had to break.

What could he say, with Jerry's care in preparing the meal, Okjin couldn't bring himself to waste it. 

.・゜-: ✧ :-　　-: ✧ :-゜・．