The crowd roared alive, a sea of faces glowing with envy, awe, and the fevered buzz of gossip. Phones stayed trained on them, lenses flashing as if Yu had become a celebrity overnight. Cheers mixed with laughter, a chorus of voices calling Theo's name, some crying out how romantic it was, others murmuring about the cost of 520 roses and fluttering bills raining like confetti.
Yu's ears rang. His skin prickled beneath the weight of every eye. The emerald ring glinted in his hand like a chain.
Rin stood to the side of it all, stiff as stone, his face caught between duty and disbelief. His hands clenched at his sides, knuckles pale. His gaze darted once to Yu's face—saw the hollow shine of his smile, the way his body stiffened in Theo's embrace—and for a flicker, something passed in Rin's eyes:
Pity? Recognition? He quickly looked away, jaw tight, but the tension radiating from him was a stark contrast to the cheers.
Theo, intoxicated by the spectacle, pressed a kiss to Yu's lips, holding him as though he were a trophy.
"Mine."
The Love-o-meter ticked up:
40 - 42
Theo whispered against his skin, low and possessive, before pulling back just enough to show the world his smile—the smile of a man who believed he'd won.
The applause thundered on. Yu waved faintly, the perfect picture of a blushing fiancée. His lips curved, his eyes shimmered as though with happy tears—but inside… inside he shattered.
When Theo finally loosened his hold, when the crowd began to disperse and the buzz faded to murmurs, Yu's mask quivered like paper in the rain. His fingers trembled around the ring, his nails digging into his palm as he tucked it into his pocket.
'I can't breathe. I can't do this. He's using me. He's trapping me.'
His smile fell the moment Theo turned to wave at lingering onlookers. Yu's face collapsed into a silent, twisted grimace, his chest heaving as if he were drowning. His throat burned with bile, his stomach lurched, and he clenched his belly protectively with one arm, terrified his babies could feel his distress.
Behind his eyes, DK01's cold monotone whispered.
[Endure. Hold steady through the strain—your restraint has not gone unnoticed. The Love-o-Meter has risen, subtle but unmistakable, signaling a positive shift in emotional alignment. Trust has deepened. Attachment has strengthened. This moment, difficult as it is, has pushed the bond forward. Progress is being achieved.]
Yu swallowed a sob.
Progress felt like poison.
He wiped at his face quickly before Theo could turn back, piecing the mask together again, but his insides trembled, shards of himself rattling under the weight of a chain disguised as a silver ring.
Theo didn't let go of Yu's hand as the crowd finally thinned. His grip was warm, firm, and possessive, lacing their fingers together as though daring anyone to question that this delicate, doe-eyed beauty was his. Every step he took, Theo smiled, nodded at classmates, professors, strangers—soaking in their congratulations.
Yu smiled too. He had to. His lips curved, his lashes lowered shyly, the picture-perfect fiancée. But inside? Inside every muscle screamed. The hand Theo clutched felt like it was being shackled, his skin crawling beneath the weight of the emerald band now burning in his pocket.
He forced himself to nod, to beam faintly whenever Theo looked down at him, swallowing the bile rising in his throat. His other hand never strayed far from his belly, rubbing slow circles like he could protect his babies from the suffocating pressure bearing down on him.
Each moment stretched. His jaw ached from the smile he pinned in place. His throat trembled with unshed sobs he dared not let slip. He couldn't let the mask crack—not here, not in front of Theo, not with Rin's sharp eyes flicking toward him in his periphery.
Only once they left from campus grounds did the applause finally fade into echoes. The roses, the petals, the bills—all left behind, yet still clung to him like a noose.
…
The car door clicked shut behind him. The tinted windows swallowed the world outside, and suddenly there was silence—thick, crushing silence. Rin started the engine without a word, his face unreadable in the rearview mirror.
Yu sat trapped in the back seat, Theo beside him. Alone, at last.
Theo's hand didn't leave his. Instead, he lifted it, brushing Yu's knuckles to his lips with a soft, triumphant kiss. His other arm slipped behind Yu, pulling him into his chest as though Yu belonged there.
"You were perfect today…"
Theo murmured, his voice velvet over steel.
"Absolutely perfect. I've never been so happy."
Yu's smile cracked for the briefest second, his lips twitching before he caught it and glued it back on. He forced a little laugh, thin and brittle.
"Mm… glad I could make you happy."
He said, voice trembling only slightly, easily mistaken for shyness.
But his eyes, lowered to the floor of the car, glistened with the truth:
Dread.
His babies moved faintly inside him, and Yu pressed his palm tighter to his belly, as if to ground himself, as if to whisper silently to them.
'Hold on, just a little longer.'
The car pulled away from campus, its hum low and steady, carrying them toward the borrowed penthouse—each passing street dragging Yu further into the gilded cage Theo had placed around him.
The car was too quiet, every sound amplified. The hum of the engine. The faint squeak of tires rolling over asphalt. Rin's steady breathing up front, his grip rigid on the wheel, eyes locked on the road.
Theo filled the silence with his voice, his touches. He held Yu's hand in his lap, stroking his thumb over the skin, murmuring soft, honeyed praises.
"You looked like a dream, Yu. Like you were made for that ring."
"I could see it in their eyes—they all envied me."
"You really will be my perfect wife."
Every word was velvet over steel, a chain Yu couldn't break. His head dipped, cheeks warmed as though shy, but in truth his stomach knotted and bile crept up his throat. He forced small laughs at the right moments, whispered "thank you"s when Theo leaned to brush a kiss across his knuckles.
In the front, Rin's eyes flickered to the rearview once, catching Yu's reflection. His jaw tightened, but he stayed silent, hands white-knuckled on the wheel.
Theo leaned closer still, lips brushing Yu's temple.
"We'll celebrate properly soon. Just us."
Yu's stomach twisted, but he nodded, the words endure, survive, play along pulsing through his skull like a drumbeat.
When the car pulled into the penthouse lot, Theo slipped out first, circling smoothly to open Yu's door. He extended a hand, smiling, dazzling—the kind of smile that won entire rooms, but to Yu it felt like shackles.
Yu let Theo's hand guide him out, his own mask bright and gentle. The emerald ring in his pocket weighed a thousand pounds.
At the penthouse door, Theo's hand lingered against the small of Yu's back, steady and intimate. Yu turned, slipping just enough away to breathe. He tilted his head, eyes soft, as though pleading.
"You've done so much for me today, Theo…"
Yu said, voice fragile but warm enough to cover the ice beneath.
"But… I'm really tired. I just need today to rest... alone. Can you let me have this evening to myself? I'll call you tomorrow. I promise."
Theo blinked at the request, surprise flickering across his perfect mask. Yu braced for him to push, to insist. Instead, Theo's smile softened again, though Yu caught the sharp glint beneath it.
"Of course…"
Theo said finally, brushing Yu's cheek with his thumb.
"Rest well, my love. Think of me."
Yu forced a soft laugh.
"I will."
Theo kissed his lips before stepping back. He lingered until Yu disappeared inside, the door shutting firmly between them.
Only then did Yu sag against it, his smile cracking apart the moment the latch clicked.
Yu slid down against the wood, knees buckling until he folded into himself on the floor of the penthouse entryway. His mask shattered like fragile glass, every strained smile from the ride back breaking into sobs that tore raw from his throat.
His palms pressed over his face, but the tears wouldn't stop, leaking hot and bitter through his fingers. The emerald ring felt like it burned a hole through his pocket, searing into his flesh, a cruel weight tying him to Theo's suffocating shadow.
'He used me again. He paraded me again.'
Yu's chest heaved, breath catching, ragged. His belly tightened, and instinctively he curled his arms around it, protective even in despair.
DK01's screen flickered faintly into existence above him, its voice cool, clinical, almost cutting.
{Alert! Your host's stress levels have spiked immensely. Emotional collapse imminent. This poses a threat to the unborn infants. System DK01, please take measures to reduce stress levels of your host.}
[Host, your stress just shot past what's safe. You're on the edge of breaking down.
That said, keeping up the act did work:
The Tragic Target's feelings have grown, and the Love-o-meter is now at 42%.
But there's a problem you can't ignore. You still despise him. That tension—pretending while feeling the opposite—remains unsustainable.]
Yu choked out a laugh that was closer to a sob.
"You think I don't know that?"
His voice cracked, raw.
"I hate him… I hate him so much, but I can't escape him. I can't—"
[I advise you to continue to endure. Adapt to the situation, you're doing so well so far. Preserve until the mission is complete.]
"Endure?"
Yu hissed, tears dripping off his chin.
"I'm breaking… I'm already broken…"
But DK01's interface dimmed, slipping into standby as if to deny him even that comfort.
Yu sobbed until his voice was hoarse, the penthouse silent but for the sound of his collapse.
---
Meanwhile—Adrian froze at the empty bench. The bag of food slipped from his grip, almost tumbling to the ground before he caught it at the last second. His stomach dropped. His pulse spiked.
"Yu?"
He muttered, voice low, dangerous. He scanned the quad, the crowd now dispersing after the spectacle. Yu was gone. No trace.
He fumbled for his phone, hands trembling as he yanked it from his pocket. He dialed Yu's number—once, twice, three times.
Ring. Ring. Ring.
No answer.
Adrian's jaw clenched, fury and panic knotting tight in his chest. His eyes narrowed as he stood rooted to the spot, phone buzzing uselessly in his palm.
"Where the hell are you, Yu…"
Adrian's thumb hovered over Yu's name again, but he knew it was pointless—Yu wasn't picking up. His pulse thundered in his ears, that old, cold steel creeping into his blood.
He dragged a hand through his hair, biting back a curse, and then scrolled to a different contact list—one he swore he'd stopped using. Numbers burned into memory. Men he hadn't called in months.
He dialed.
"Cross?"
The gravelly voice on the other end was quick, cautious.
"Back so soon?"
"Don't start!"
Adrian snapped, his tone clipped, a razor-edge of panic under his words.
"I need a trace. Immediately. Beckham. Yuvin Beckham. College student. Track his phone. Get me a location now."
A pause.
"You sure you want to—"
"I'm not asking. I'm telling you to do it. Now."
The line went quiet for a beat before the voice muttered.
"Fine. Give me a minute."
Adrian hung up without another word, pacing like a caged beast. He clutched the bag of food so hard the handles cut into his palm, knuckles white.
His thoughts spun—images of Yu alone, vulnerable, scared. His stomach twisted, his tattoos prickling under his skin as if reminding him of who he really was when pushed.
Adrian stood there in the fading light, jaw tight, chest heaving. He had no idea what had happened between the moment Yu was laughing on the bench and now, but his gut screamed danger.
And Adrian Cross always trusted his gut.
"Hold on, Yu."
He muttered under his breath, the words more like a vow than a prayer.
The bench was empty, too empty. Adrian sat on its edge for a moment, bag of food crushed between his knees, his chest hammering like he'd just sprinted a marathon.
He couldn't sit still. He pushed up, paced the concrete path in long, tight strides, eyes scanning the campus as if Yu might just reappear out of thin air with that fragile smile and some ridiculous craving excuse. But he didn't.
'What if someone grabbed him?
What if he collapsed again?
What if Theo—'
Adrian clenched his jaw so hard it hurt, shaking his head. No. He couldn't spiral. He couldn't picture Yu lying somewhere cold, hurting, afraid. That thought alone made his stomach turn and bile rise in his throat.
Minutes crawled. Every passing student, every burst of laughter in the distance grated at him. His phone stayed glued in his palm, thumb hitting refresh again and again, but no new notifications appeared. He swore he could feel his blood pressure climbing.
Finally, his phone buzzed. A single message lit up the screen.
> Pinged location:
Yuvin Beckham
Address:
[Penthouse coordinates].
Adrian froze. His brows knit together.
'The penthouse? That penthouse. The one we've been staying in these past weeks.'
"How the hell…?"
He muttered under his breath.
Yu hadn't been near the car. Adrian had been the one to drive him to his class.
'How could he have gotten there this fast?'
He shoved the questions aside—the confusion could wait. Right now, all that mattered was getting to Yu.
Adrian broke into a sprint across the lot, throwing open the driver's side door of his car and tossing the bag of food onto the passenger seat without a thought. His hands shook only once when he jammed the key into the ignition.
"I'm coming, Yu."
He breathed, engine roaring to life.
The tires squealed as Adrian peeled out of the campus, cutting sharp turns with reckless precision, every second on the road stretching like an eternity.
Adrian gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white, his tattoos flexing along the veins of his arms. Every stoplight felt like a personal insult, every car in his way a deliberate blockade. He leaned on the horn, teeth grit, tearing through intersections like the laws of traffic had never been written.
His mind wouldn't quiet.
'Did Theo find him? Did Callen do something stupid? Did Yu collapse alone somewhere and crawl back to the penthouse?'
The thought of Yu collapsing—pregnant, fragile, scared—sent a lightning bolt of fury through him. Adrian's foot pressed harder on the gas. The city blurred by in streaks of neon and cold winter light, but all he could see was Yu's pale face, tear-streaked and trembling.
"Don't you dare leave me, Yu."
Adrian muttered under his breath, jaw locked, the words half a plea, half a command.
"Don't you dare."
By the time he pulled up to the penthouse, he didn't even register how fast he'd gotten there. Tires squealed as he braked, throwing the car into park before the engine had fully settled. He was out the door in a heartbeat, sprinting toward the building's entrance, barely hearing the protests of the concierge as he stormed past and hit the elevator button like his life depended on it.
The ride up stretched an eternity. Adrian's reflection in the mirrored panel looked feral—dark circles, sweat at his temples, his eyes lit with something raw and unhinged. His heart beat so loud it drowned out the elevator's soft chime.
When the doors finally slid open, he was already moving, his strides devouring the hallway until he reached the penthouse door. He shoved it open, breath heaving—
And froze.
Yu was there.
Crumbled over the kitchen sink, his small frame trembling, one hand clutching the counter for support while the other pressed weakly to his mouth. His hair fell forward like a curtain, hiding his face, but the retching was unmistakable.
Adrian's stomach dropped straight into the floor. Relief hit him first—Yu was alive, here—but it was immediately drowned by a wave of helpless panic as the sound of him vomiting echoed off the pristine kitchen walls.
Then instinct snapped through him.
"Yu—!"
Adrian's voice broke as he stepped inside, slamming the door shut behind him.
The sight nearly gutted him—Yu, hunched so small and fragile over the sink, his hair shielding his face, his body quivering with every miserable retch. For one breath, Adrian couldn't move, couldn't speak, couldn't even breathe. He had spent the entire drive imagining horrors, but nothing compared to the raw fragility of this moment.
Adrian was at his side in three strides, one arm looping around his trembling frame, the other reaching to hold his long hair back from his face. His touch was frantic but careful, as if Yu might shatter with too much pressure. He murmured useless comforts, low words that barely made sense—
"I've got you. Breathe. I'm here. It's okay."
Yu gagged and vomited again, weakly gripping the edge of the sink as if it were the only thing tethering him to the world. Adrian steadied him, rubbing his back in slow, grounding circles, his chest tightening at every sound.
Finally, mercifully, the heaves subsided. Yu slumped into Adrian's hold, chest heaving, tear tracks cutting down his pale cheeks. His sobs came softer now, trailing into exhausted sniffles as he leaned against Adrian's solid chest, his small hands trembling against him.
Adrian held him, stilling his own panic. He let Yu's breathing settle, let the storm ebb before he risked speaking.
"Yu…"
His voice was quiet, coaxing.
"Why—how did you end up back here?"
Yu flinched, his lashes wet as he looked away. For a second Adrian thought he would shut him out completely. Then Yu whispered, voice ragged.
"I—I'm sorry… I felt sick. So I called a cab and came home. I was gonna text you but…"
His hand pressed to his mouth as if remembering the violent waves of nausea.
"I—I couldn't stop. I've been throwing up ever since."
Adrian's gut twisted. He wanted to believe him—needed to—but the timing felt too sharp, too off. Still, Yu looked so pale, so small, so frayed that the only thing that mattered was his health.
He smoothed his hand over Yu's damp hair, kissed his temple with aching gentleness.
"Forget it. Forget all that. None of that matters."
He pulled back enough to look Yu in the eye, worry carved into every line of his face.
"What matters is you. We're making a doctor's appointment. I don't care if it's just nerves for the trip, or something you ate—I need to know you and the babies are okay before France."
His voice cracked faintly on babies, a plea wrapped in command, his arms tightening around Yu as if daring the world to try and harm him again.
Yu's throat burned raw, the bitter taste of bile still clinging no matter how he swallowed. He clutched the sink, his body trembling, his chest heaving as Adrian's warmth steadied him.
"Yuvin…"
Adrian pressed, voice low but unyielding.
"We're seeing Nathaniel. Today."
Yu flinched, his lashes fluttering shut.
"N-no, I can't!"
He rasped.
"The trip's tomorrow, I can't—I'll just rest, it'll go away—"
Adrian's hand tipped his chin up, his gaze pinning him.
"No."
The firmness in that single word broke something in Yu. His instinct was to argue, to pull away, to pretend this storm inside him was nothing—but his limbs were too heavy, his head too fogged. He sagged instead, biting his lip hard to keep more tears from spilling.
"I…"
His voice thinned to a whisper.
"…Fine."
It was all Adrian needed. He pressed a kiss into Yu's damp hair and immediately pulled his phone from his pocket, one arm never leaving Yu's trembling body as he called the doctor. His tone was clipped, urgent, the protective edge sharpened into steel.
"This is Adrian Cross. I need Dr. Nathaniel to see my partner today. He's pregnant and experiencing severe vomiting. Yes—today. No delays."
He didn't let Yu hear the other end, didn't even let silence settle before he was answering questions with a precision that sounded more like command than request. By the time he hung up, his arm was already sliding firmer around Yu's waist.
"They'll see us this afternoon."
His voice softened, the edge gone now that he had carved out a path forward.
"We'll go together. No arguments."
Yu wanted to protest again—the word France sat bitter on his tongue, tomorrow looming like a promise he couldn't keep. But the weight of Adrian's arms, the steady heat of him, the sheer relief of someone else holding control for once—his resistance melted. He simply nodded, letting Adrian lead.
…
Later that day, Adrian all but escorted Yu into Dr. Nathaniel's clinic. The exam room was too white, too sharp. The fluorescent lights hummed overhead, the sterile smell biting at Yu's sensitive stomach. The paper crinkled beneath Yu as he sat on the cushioned table, legs drawn in close, his oversized hoodie swallowing him whole. The sterile air stung his nose, already sensitive from the acrid taste of bile that lingered at the back of his throat.
He clung to Adrian's arm, his oversized hoodie drowning his slight frame, his belly a quiet secret beneath. Adrian stood like a wall beside him, shoulders squared, jaw tight, one hand braced protectively against Yu's back as if he could shield him from even the light.
Dr. Nathaniel entered with his usual clinical calm, but the moment his eyes swept over Yu's pale complexion, the thin tremor in his hands, his posture and eyes sharpened immediately when he saw Yu's pallor.
"Mom…"
He said gently, but firmly.
"You look unwell."
Yu tried to manage a small laugh, but it broke midway into a cough.
"Just… morning sickness. It's fine."
Adrian's tone cut through flat and unyielding.
"It's not fine. He hasn't been able to keep anything down today. He's been vomiting nonstop…"
Adrian supplied before Yu could speak further, his hand braced at the small of Yu's back.
"I want him checked thoroughly. Bloodwork, fluids, whatever it takes."
Yu ducked his head, too worn out to argue, too fragile to resist. His trip to France felt suddenly far away, as if swallowed by the clinical air of the exam room.
Nathaniel nodded once, brisk, and motioned for the nurse to begin.
"Let's run some labs. We'll need a blood draw and IV fluids immediately. Severe dehydration is a risk."
The nurse prepped Yu's arm, the alcohol swab cold against his skin. Yu winced as the needle slid in, his fragile body tensing before the steady drip of fluids began to snake through the IV line. His head tipped back against the wall, eyelids fluttering shut.
'I'm so tired and cold…'
His thoughts blurred, fragmented.
'But I can't be. Not now. Not when they need me…'
The soft, rhythmic pulse of the Doppler monitor filled the room next as Nathaniel checked the babies' heartbeats. Each rapid flutter echoed like a drum inside Yu's chest. Relief sparked and died in the same instant — alive, but what if his body failed them?
"Vitals are holding for the moment."
Nathaniel said, voice clipped but steady. He scribbled notes onto Yu's chart, then pulled his stool closer, meeting Yu's eyes directly.
"You're suffering from Hyperemesis Gravidarum…"
He said plainly.
"HG. This isn't ordinary morning sickness. It's a serious condition. You're severely dehydrated, malnourished, and at risk of organ strain if it continues. And with triplets…"
He paused, letting the weight of the word settle.
"…Your body is under extraordinary demand."
Yu's lips trembled. His hands, pale and fragile, pressed against his belly as if to shield the small swell there. The words extraordinary demand echoed in his skull like a death sentence.
Nathaniel continued, steady, professional.
"You will need hospitalization if this persists. I'll be prescribing medication to ease the nausea and vomiting, but you must follow strict instructions:
Rest, hydration, small, frequent meals. You'll also need regular monitoring. Dad…"
His eyes flicked to Adrian.
"It will fall on you to ensure he follows through. HG can be dangerous—even life threatening—if ignored."
Adrian's hand closed tighter at Yu's back, his voice hard as steel.
"He won't be ignored. Not for a second."
Yu blinked rapidly, fighting back tears. The trip to France tomorrow, the runway victory, the illusion of control he had fought to keep—all of it slipped like sand through his fingers.
Fragile body. Dangerous condition. Triplets.
The words stacked and crushed, and Yu sat in silence, clinging only to the weight of Adrian's hand at his back, the faint hum of three fragile heartbeats inside him, and the taste of iron in his mouth.