Chapter 28

Est stood frozen in the dim chamber, the warmth of the fire paling against the cold pit forming in his stomach. He opened his mouth once – then again – but nothing came out.

He didn’t know what to say.

Didn’t know where to begin.

He took a step forward, brow drawn. “William – “

But William held up a hand, gentle but firm. “Don’t,” he said softly. “Not now.”

Est froze.

William’s voice wasn’t angry. Just quiet. Frayed at the edges. Tired.

“There’s no rush,” William murmured, glancing away. “You don’t have to answer tonight.”

He turned his back again, walking over to the window. He looked out, but it was impossible to tell if he was seeing anything at all.

“Take your time, Est. Decide when you’re ready.”

His jaw clenched like he was trying not to say something else. And his face – his face –

It wasn’t cold.

It was resigned.

And that, somehow, was worse.

Est lingered for a moment longer, throat thick, guilt crawling up his spine. He wanted to say something. Anything. But the words wouldn’t come.

Eventually, with a quiet nod William didn’t even see, Est turned and walked out.

—-

He barely remembered the walk back to his quarters. His mind was a storm.

William wasn’t wrong.

Gods, he wasn’t wrong.

Est had taken things out on him. Had leaned on him. Had used him, in ways that hurt them both, but now –

He’d thought William was strong enough to handle it. He’d told himself that William wanted it too. That they were both getting what they needed.

But the truth was uglier. Somewhere deep down, he had resented the prince’s softness. His affection. His certainty.

Because it terrified him.

Because it made Est feel owned. Bound. Vulnerable.

And yet… he wanted him.

He still did.

Which made it all worse.

—-

The next evening, Est lingered at William’s door again.

He had spent the whole night tossing and turning, thinking of everything he should’ve said. The words came slower when he tried to speak them aloud, but now – now he was clearer. William deserved more than silence. More than confusion. More than restraint dressed up as control.

When the guards nodded him in, he didn’t hesitate.

William was by the hearth, back turned, shirt slightly rumpled, hair still damp from a bath. He glanced up as Est entered, and something flickered in his eyes – something unreadable – but he nodded once, motioning to the chair by the fire.

“Est.”

He hadn’t expected warmth.

But he hadn’t expected gentleness, either.

Est took a slow breath and stepped closer, sitting down without a word. The fire crackled between them. He watched the light flicker across William’s face, across the curve of his cheek, the lines beneath his eyes that Est suddenly realized hadn’t been there when they first met.

“I was wrong,” Est said finally.

William looked up, slowly.

Est’s hands curled on his knees. “About a lot of things.”

There was a long silence. William didn’t speak, but he didn’t look away either.

“I… I do care about you,” Est said, quietly. “Probably more than I ever intended to. Probably more than I know how to deal with.”

His voice faltered. He tried again.

“I’ve wanted you since the beginning, and that never stopped. But somewhere along the way, I started resenting how much you cared. And how much I cared. How sure you were. How kind you kept being, even when I was cruel, even when I – “

He broke off, jaw tight.

“I took advantage of that,” he said. “And I’m sorry. You didn’t imagine it. There were days I was so angry, so ashamed of what I was feeling, that I took it out on you in ways I never should have. You let me.”

William looked down.

“I thought,” Est went on, quieter now, “that if I could just pretend it didn’t mean anything, I could stay in control. But I wasn’t in control. I was scared. I am scared. Of how this feels. Of what it means.”

He exhaled. “I think I need time. Not because I don’t want you, but because I want to stop punishing you for it. I want to be fair to you. I want to understand what I’m feeling.”

He looked over, then, and met William’s eyes.

“I just wanted to say that.”

William was quiet for a long time. His gaze was steady, but unreadable.

Then, softly, “Thank you.”

Est looked away, something clenched in his chest easing just slightly.

And then – a knock at the door.

William frowned. “I wasn’t expecting anyone – “

Before either of them could speak, the door creaked open.

James’s voice followed, too bright, too smooth.

“Sorry to barge in, brother. I heard the two of you were having a rough patch. Thought I’d do something helpful for once.”

Est turned slowly in his chair as James stepped into the room, a glint of something triumphant in his eyes.

And behind him –

A man.

Tall. Striking. Dark coat lined in velvet. Blond hair, a shade lighter than William’s. Confident smile. Too smooth. Too calm.

He moved like someone who belonged here.

Est blinked.

The man glanced around as if assessing the room. His eyes skipped past Est without interest and landed on William.

“Will, sweetheart,” he said, voice rich and smooth. “Still as pretty as I remember.”

Est stiffened.

William hadn’t moved.

Not a single muscle.

James clapped a hand on the man’s back, grinning. “Figured Kenta might cheer you up. After all, it wasn’t that long ago you two were – well.” He chuckled. “Tangled.”

Est turned back slowly to William.

His face was frozen. Pale. The knuckles at his side were white where his hands curled into fists.

Est’s heart began to pound.

He looked back at the stranger.

Something about the way William wouldn’t meet his eyes. The way the man moved, so certain. So familiar.

The way William hadn’t said a word.

Est’s pulse roared in his ears.

This wasn’t a friend. Or a fling.

This was him.

The one William had never spoken about.

The one Est had heard only hints of – quietly, in passing, always with shadows behind the words.

The one who left bruises that hadn’t all faded.

The man took a step closer to William, unbothered. “You don’t look thrilled to see me,” he said with a lazy smile. “But I’m sure that’ll change.”

William didn’t respond.

Didn’t even blink.

Est was already standing.

Every muscle tight.

He didn’t know the story.

Not all of it.

But he didn’t need to.

Because everything William had never said was written all over his face.

—-

Est was still standing beside the hearth, trying to make sense of the look on William’s face when the man stepped past James and into the room.

“Will,” the man murmured, smooth and low, eyes sharp with something not quite affection. “You’ve changed.”

He crossed the space without waiting for permission and reached out – fingers brushing William’s arm like they had every right to. William flinched, the reaction sharp, instinctive.

The man’s brows lifted. “What was that?”

His voice was velvet, but edged. Mocking.

“I remember when you used to beg for me to push you down,” he said casually. “Used to say you needed it. You were always so greedy in bed, weren’t you? Always so fucking eager.”

Est couldn’t breathe.

William stepped back now, jaw tight. “Don’t touch me.”

Kenta tilted his head. “Still sensitive, I see.”

“Don’t.“

Kenta clicked his tongue like he was disappointed. “You don’t need to play saint in front of him.” His eyes slid to Est now, dismissive. “Whoever he is. He’ll figure it out eventually.”

William’s fists clenched at his sides. “We’re done, Kenta. We’ve been done. What the fuck are you doing here?”

Before Kenta could reply, James laughed from the doorway.

“Oh, come on, Will. Don’t be dramatic. I thought you’d be grateful. You’ve been sulking for weeks – hell, months – since your little toy soldier started pulling away. I figured, why not bring back the one man you’ve always wanted?”

Est’s eyes snapped to James.

James grinned. “Kenta here was the original, wasn’t he? And look at him – he hasn’t changed a bit. If anything, he’s better than ever. You should be saying thank you, not sulking.”

“You knew I never wanted to see him again,” William said quietly, deadly.

“Oh please,” James rolled his eyes. “You were obsessed with him. You think we didn’t all notice? Half the palace knew how pathetically in love you were.”

Est felt it like a punch.

Kenta was watching William now – smirking, half-predator.

“What’s this, Will?” he said softly. “Trying to replace me with some brooding palace guard?” His gaze cut back to Est. “Let me guess – you made him wear my clothes? Gave him my old room? What else did you recycle, mm?”

“Get out,” William said, sharp now. His voice cracked under the weight of it.

But Kenta just stepped forward again – just a few inches. Enough to send William rigid.

Est finally moved.

He didn’t think. His body just shifted between them, one protective step forward. Hand braced at his side, tense as a coiled blade.

Kenta blinked at him, amused.

“Oh,” he said. “So that’s the dynamic now. Interesting.”

Est didn’t speak. But he didn’t back down either.

William’s voice came again – quiet, firm.

“Leave.”

Still, Kenta hesitated.

“Now,” William snapped. “Both of you.”

Kenta’s mouth curled.

But he didn’t leave.

Not right away.

Even after William snapped – “Get out.” – he lingered, posture relaxed, gaze sharp as ever, like he still owned the air between them.

“I see you’re still dramatic,” Kenta murmured, ignoring the tension simmering between the three of them. “But I’ll let that go. I made mistakes too.”

William’s breath caught.

Kenta’s eyes flicked to Est, then back to William. “We both said things we didn’t mean. Did things we regret. But that was years ago. We’re not the same people now, are we?”

“Kenta – ” William began, but Kenta cut in.

“I didn’t come to fight,” he said, his tone falsely patient. “I came to talk. To see if there’s still anything real here. Because you and I both know…” His voice dropped, intimate. “We were real. Messy, maybe, but never fake.”

Est stiffened, watching every shift in William’s expression.

“And let’s not pretend,” Kenta continued. “This little… guard project?” He gestured loosely at Est. “You’re slumming, Will. You do this. You spiral, then you pick someone who can’t hurt you the way I did. Someone beneath you.”

“That’s not – ” William’s voice cracked. “That’s not what this is.”

Kenta stepped closer, and this time William didn’t flinch. He just looked exhausted.

“I know you,” Kenta said quietly, dangerously. “You don’t like being alone. You get too soft, too trusting. You let people in who don’t deserve you, and they ruin you. You think this one’s different? Look at him.” His voice curled into a sneer. “He resents you. I saw it the moment I walked in.”

Est’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t rise to it.

“I wouldn’t have let that happen,” Kenta said. “If you were still mine, I’d have never let you fall so far.”

William’s hands trembled.

Kenta lowered his voice even more. “I know I hurt you. I’ve paid for it. But you – you hurt me too. You shut me out, pushed me away when all I wanted was to make it work. But I’m not here to fight the past. I’m here to fix it. We could start over, Will. Do it right this time. You’re still mine, where it counts.”

“I was never yours,” William whispered.

Kenta tilted his head. “No? Then why are you still shaking?”

That made Est move.

He stepped in – closer than before. Blocking Kenta’s path to William with a quiet, deliberate strength. His voice was low and cold.

“Leave.”

Kenta smirked, but didn’t move.

“You think you can protect him?” he said softly. “You don’t even know what he’s survived. What we’ve been through. You think a few months in his bed makes you irreplaceable? You’re a footnote, soldier. You think he’s giving you everything, but he’s still mine in the places that matter.”

Est didn’t answer.

William did.

“I’m not yours,” he said, louder this time. “And I never want to be.”

Something flickered across Kenta’s face then. Not rage, not surprise – something colder. Calculation.

“You’re making a mistake,” he said flatly. “This isn’t love, Will. It’s weakness. It’s charity. You deserve someone who understands your blood. Your burdens. Someone who doesn’t treat your affection like a trap.“

He looked Est up and down.

“Not a common guard who thinks he’s better than you just because he never bled for you the way I did.”

William’s expression broke then. Not into anger – but weariness.

So much hurt. So much shame.

“Get out,” he whispered again.

Kenta studied him for a long moment. “You’ll regret this.”

He turned, finally, and stalked out of the room without another word.

James, however, lingered. He looked between them, eyes gleaming with cruel amusement.

“Well. That was dramatic.”

Est looked up sharply. “You – “

“I was only trying to help,” James said, tone mock-offended. “You seemed like you needed a reminder.”

William didn’t say a word. Didn’t even look at his brother.

“Anyway,” James shrugged, “he’s here for a few days. If you change your mind, you know where to find him.”

He turned and left, door clicking behind him.

Silence fell again.

Est looked over – and saw William trembling, just barely, as if the strength it took to stay standing had drained out of him the second Kenta left.

“Will…”

William didn’t move.

Est didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know how to fix this.

But he stepped forward anyway.

As soon as the door shut behind James, William crumpled.

It wasn’t dramatic, not like the fury he usually kept close to the surface. It was quieter. More devastating.

He stepped back, out of Est’s reach, turning sharply toward the far wall like he was trying to hold himself together by sheer will.

“Go,” he rasped. “Please. Just… go.”

Est stood frozen, watching the tremor in William’s shoulders, the way his arms wrapped tightly around himself. It wasn’t a command. It was a plea.

“I can’t,” Est said, voice low. “I won’t.”

“I said go – “

“I heard you,” Est cut in gently, moving forward anyway. “But I’m staying.”

He reached out.

William flinched at first, instinctive. His body too tense, too raw. “Don’t,” he whispered. “Don’t touch me.”

But Est didn’t pull away.

Instead, he stepped in closer, slower than before – giving William every chance to push him back. He wrapped his arms around him, one steady hand cradling the nape of his neck, the other settling around his waist.

And William shattered.

A sound tore from his throat, somewhere between a sob and a gasp, and his knees buckled. Est caught him. Held him tighter.

They sank to the floor together.

William clutched at Est’s shirt with shaking hands, burying his face in his chest as the sobs came hard and unrelenting – years of buried pain and shame and fury rising all at once.

Est didn’t say a word.

He just held him. Rocked him gently. Let him cry for as long as he needed.

Minutes passed. Then an hour. Then more.

The light outside dimmed as evening fell, and still they stayed there, wrapped around each other on the floor, pressed so tightly it was hard to tell where one ended and the other began.

Eventually, William’s breathing slowed. The tears dried, but his grip didn’t ease.

Still, he was the one who broke the silence.

“I’m okay now,” he murmured. Voice hoarse. Hollow. “You can go.”

Est didn’t move.

“No,” he said simply.

William stirred against him. “Est…”

“We may be falling apart,” Est said, “but I’m not leaving you like that. Not now.”

Silence again.

William looked up slowly. His eyes were red, swollen, but his expression was softer now. Exhausted. Bare.

“I’m over it,” he said.

Est looked at him.

“I am,” William insisted, more firmly. “He doesn’t matter to me anymore. But – “

He stopped. His voice cracked again.

“The reminder…” he breathed. “It still hurts.”

Est didn’t speak.

And maybe that’s what let William finally say it.

“His name’s Kenta,” he said. “You probably figured that out.”

Est nodded, silently.

William sat up a little, arms still looped loosely around Est’s side, as if afraid he’d float off if he let go.

“We were together for two years. Maybe more. It’s… blurry.”

Est didn’t interrupt. Just rested a hand gently on William’s back.

“He was cruel,” William said. “But never all at once. That’s the thing. He knew when to be kind. When to hold me just right. When to whisper the things I wanted to hear.”

His voice broke on a laugh.

“I thought it was love,” he admitted. “For a long time. I thought I was broken because I was the one who kept making him angry. That if I were better, he wouldn’t – “

He stopped. His breath hitched again.

Est’s grip tightened.

“He’d hurt me, then kiss me after. Tell me I needed it. That it helped me stay grounded. That I wanted it. And for a while… I believed him.”

William’s voice fell to a whisper.

“I begged him to stay, sometimes. Even after he broke me. I begged.”

The silence between them turned heavy.

“He used to say he loved me, you know.”

Est said nothing. Just watched him, listened.

“I thought he did. I needed to believe he did. Because if I didn’t… then I’d have to admit I let someone break me, over and over again, for nothing.”

William’s shoulders were trembling, though his voice remained eerily calm – like the eye of a storm holding itself together by sheer force of will.

“I was younger. Dumber. And I wanted to be good for someone. To be wanted enough that they’d stay.”

He turned, slowly. His eyes were dark, wet, unreadable.

“Kenta knew that. Knew exactly how much I craved affection. And he turned it into a game. One I didn’t know how to stop playing.”

Est’s heart clenched.

William’s gaze flickered down to his own hands, fingers clenched around the hem of his shirt.

“He made me think love meant proving myself. That I had to take whatever he gave me, no matter how cruel. That I was too much, too needy, too dramatic. That I should be grateful someone like him would put up with me at all.”

He gave a bitter, breathy laugh. “And I was. Grateful. Every time he apologized after hurting me. Every time he kissed the bruises like they were proof of his devotion. Every time he called me ‘his.’ I thought it meant something.”

Est stepped closer, but William didn’t seem to notice.

“And then,” William added bitterly, “he left. Just like that. Found someone else. Told me I was too much trouble. That I’d never be enough.”

He looked up.

Straight at Est.

Something vulnerable. Raw.

“I’m not telling you this because I want pity. I just…” He hesitated. “When James brought him in, I felt like I was right back there. Like none of it had ever ended. Like all the progress I made – leaving, healing, even trying again with you – it just disappeared.”

Est’s throat tightened. “William…”

But William shook his head, and said softly, “I know I made things complicated. With the contract. The rules. The distance. I told myself it was about boundaries, professionalism – but really…”

He looked down.

“It was fear.”

Est froze.

“I didn’t want to fall into another dynamic where I didn’t know if I could say no. Where I might lose myself again. So I tried to structure everything. Keep it clean. Keep it safe. Even when it stopped being professional… I still held on.”

Est realized – with a sinking weight – that William hadn’t needed rules to control him.

He’d needed rules to protect himself.

William’s voice went even quieter. “You’ve never hurt me like he did. But sometimes, when you’re angry… or when I give too much and you pull away… I wonder if you’re just waiting for me to fall apart.”

The air between them thickened.

“I know you care, Est. I do. But sometimes I feel like you resent me for that. For needing you. For caring for you, even in the messy, reckless way I do.”

Est didn’t answer.

He didn’t know how.

William wrapped his arms around himself again, turning slightly. “You don’t have to say anything. I just… needed to say it. All of it.”

And that’s when Est stepped forward – not to speak, but to wrap his arms around him from behind. Holding him. Steady. Silent.

William didn’t resist.

Not this time.

They stood like that for a long while, the ache and the silence wrapping around them like fog.

And in Est’s chest, something cracked – the sharp realization that maybe William had never been asking too much. Maybe he had only ever been asking to be treated like he mattered.

And Est hadn’t always answered that call.

Not the way he should have.

Not yet.

—-

William’s weight in his arms was warm, trembling.

He hadn’t said another word after his confession – after that quietly devastating line about needing rules to keep himself from falling apart again.

Est held him tighter.

And yet, even as he did, something coiled deep in his gut. A sharp, acidic knot of shame twisting behind his ribs. It burned more with every breath William took, with every minute that passed in silence.

Because even though William hadn’t said it…

Even though he hadn’t explicitly compared him to Kenta…

Est felt it.

Felt it like a blade in his side.

Because it wasn’t just that William had been hurt. It was that Est, in his stubbornness and his confusion, in his refusal to face his own emotions – had brushed up against those same wounds. Had let William give and give, even when he’d pulled away. Had taken comfort and pleasure and intimacy from someone who was still terrified of being used.

And Est had let himself believe it was fine.

Because William had said he was fine.

Because he didn’t ask too many questions.

Because he wanted him.

But want wasn’t the same as care. And care wasn’t the same as safety. And suddenly, the things William had confessed – the trembling fear of being too much, the need to be needed, the quiet desperation behind that ridiculous contract – all of it made Est feel like the worst kind of fool.

He’d made William carry all of that alone.

Worse – he’d let himself become something William was afraid of. Even if William would never admit it. Even if he would keep swallowing that fear, keep offering himself like he always had – just to stay close.

Est’s hands tightened slightly around William’s chest.

And he hated himself.

He hated how easily he’d let his own emotions blind him. Hated that William thought he had to explain why being touched by Kenta had made him flinch. Hated that William believed Est might leave, if he didn’t stay perfect.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. Not even meaning to.

William didn’t move. Didn’t answer.

Just stayed in his arms like he was trying to disappear.

Est pressed his forehead into William’s shoulder. His voice cracked.

“I should’ve seen it. Sooner. All of it.”

Still no answer. Just the steady, exhausted rhythm of William’s breath.

“I was angry before,” Est said, barely breathing. “At everything. At how you handled things. At how I felt and couldn’t explain it. But I didn’t have the right to act like you owed me anything. Not after what you’ve been through.”

A long silence.

And then William whispered, hoarse, “Don’t do that.”

Est stilled.

“Don’t act like I’m broken,” William said. “I’m tired of being something people pity.”

“I don’t pity you,” Est said immediately. “I – fuck, Will, I just – “

He stopped. The words refused to come. He didn’t even know what he was trying to say. Just that he couldn’t bear the thought of William thinking of him the way he thought of Kenta. Not even a little.

He couldn’t bear the thought of hurting someone who had already been dragged through fire.

And yet – he’d done just that.

He didn’t deserve to be here.

But William hadn’t pushed him away.

And so Est stayed. Not because he had answers. Not because he knew how to fix it. But because for once, he wouldn’t run from the mess. He wouldn’t walk away like William expected.

So he held him.

For hours.

Until William’s sobs turned into silence. Until the shaking settled into stillness. Until the moon outside had moved behind the clouds and only the sound of rain remained.

Eventually, William stirred.

“I’m okay now,” he said softly. “You can go.”

But Est only shook his head.

“No.”

William turned slightly, as if to argue, but Est beat him to it.

“You don’t have to forgive me. You don’t even have to like me right now. But I’m not walking away. Not tonight.”

William looked at him, searching his face for something – anger, pride, guilt.

But Est gave him none of that.

Only something steady. Quiet. Real.

“I don’t know what this is anymore,” Est said, voice low. “But I’m not going to pretend you haven’t been trying. Or that you haven’t trusted me with more than I ever deserved. I heard what you said. About him. About what he did to you.”

He exhaled shakily. “And I swear, William – even if I’ve failed before, I won’t be that person to you. Not now. Not ever.”

William didn’t answer.

But he didn’t ask him to leave again.

And for now, that was enough.

—-

Est tucked the blanket around William’s shoulders carefully, the way one might tuck in something delicate. He moved with quiet, deliberate hands, smoothing out the fabric before sitting down beside him.

William blinked up at him sleepily. His eyes were still swollen, but the tears had stopped.

“Thank you,” he said softly. “For staying.”

Est gave a small, uneven smile. He didn’t trust himself to speak. Not yet.

He settled beside him, on top of the blankets. Close, but not too close. But William reached out anyway, curling a hand around Est’s wrist – then, hesitating only a second, pulling until Est lay down too. Not under the covers. Just beside him, face turned toward his.

Neither of them moved.

The darkness stretched.

Minutes passed.

Neither of them slept.

The stillness between them wasn’t peace. It was a hum of thought, of unspoken feelings coiled tightly under skin.

Eventually, Est spoke.

“I was going to leave.”

William’s brow furrowed. He didn’t speak – just stared at him, quiet and waiting.

“Before your brother showed up,” Est said. “Before Kenta. I was going to ask for some time to clear my head. I thought I needed space to think.”

“And now?”

Est looked up at the ceiling. His throat worked around the words.

“I don’t know. I just know I couldn’t go. Not like that. Not after what you said.”

A pause.

“Still might be the right thing to do,” he added, voice low. “But it doesn’t feel right anymore.”

William watched him quietly for a long moment. Then, gently, “Est… don’t stay just because you feel guilty.”

Est turned toward him then – eyes shadowed, tired, but earnest.

“I’m not.”

William didn’t look convinced. Est reached out, brushing a knuckle down the curve of his cheek.

“You’re not him,” William said. “You’re not Kenta. If that’s what you’re worried about.”

Est went still. His hand froze in place.

William tilted his head slightly. “I don’t think of you that way. Not even for a second.”

Est let out a breath that sounded almost like a laugh – but there was no humor in it. His hand dropped.

“I’m glad you think that,” he said softly. “Really. But…”

His voice caught. He closed his eyes, like the words were hard to bear.

“It’s more true than either of us would like to admit.”

William’s lips parted.

“Est…”

“I’ve hurt you, Will,” Est said. “Not the same way. Not deliberately. But it still happened. I let my frustration speak louder than my care. I let you shoulder the emotional weight of us. I let you… give more. And I didn’t even see what it was costing you until you spelled it out.”

William opened his mouth to protest – but Est shook his head, just a tiny bit.

“I was reckless with you,” he said. “And I don’t mean in bed. I mean… everywhere. I didn’t ask what you needed. I didn’t see you. Not fully. I was trying so hard not to feel things, I didn’t even stop to think how that would affect you.”

Silence settled over them again. This time, heavier.

“I’m not him,” Est whispered. “But I still managed to hurt someone who already had reasons to be scared. And I can’t pretend I don’t see that now.”

William reached for him – his hand moving slowly, like he wasn’t sure if he should. Est caught it halfway and brought it to his chest.

“I don’t want to be compared to him,” Est said. “But I also don’t want to lie to myself. I let things go too far before I started questioning what I was doing. What we were doing.”

“And what now?” William asked. His voice was quiet, but there was something steady beneath it. Not begging. Just waiting for truth.

Est swallowed.

“I don’t know yet. But I know I want to stay. If you’ll let me. I want to… try. To fix it.”

William nodded.

“I want that too.”

Neither of them said more. Not right away.

Instead, William shifted closer, resting his forehead against Est’s. Their hands still clasped between them. Skin warm, breath steady.

This wasn’t resolution.

But it was the beginning of something honest.

And for now, it was enough to stay in the quiet – together.

—-

Sooo. . . Kenta?! – How much is he going to stir up do y’all think??

Enjoy the chapter guys!!

And once again, sorry for the wait. 

Do let me know your thoughts in the comments.