King lowered his eyes, clutching the blanket as if it were the only thing keeping him from breaking apart. His voice was quiet but steady.
"I want to move out… and start staying on my own."
Win froze. The words hit him harder than he expected. His brows furrowed as he leaned closer.
"What?"
King lifted his head just enough to meet his gaze. "I said I want to move out and start staying on my own."
For a moment, Win just stared at him. Then a sharp laugh escaped his lips… brittle, defensive.
"King, that kind of joke is expensive, you know. You want to move out? Come on, I know you're joking. Enough of this, let's…"
"I'm not joking," King cut in firmly, his eyes shining with a mixture of fear and determination. "Win, I'm serious."
The laugh died instantly. Win's expression darkened, his voice low.
"How can you be serious about something like this? Tell me, King. What exactly can you do on your own that makes you think you could live by yourself?"
King's throat tightened, but he forced the words out.
"I don't have to do everything by myself."
Win shook his head, frustration flickering in his tone.
"You have to. If you really want to live alone, you'll have to stand on your own two feet. Cook, work, take care of yourself… you think you can just wish for independence and it'll happen?"
King's grip on the blanket tightened until his knuckles turned pale. He didn't back down, even though every word from Win cut through him like a blade.
Win's jaw tightened as he stared at King.
"Let me ask you something. Can you even do simple cooking?"
King shook his head slowly. "No… but when I start living alone, I'll learn."
Win's lips pressed into a thin line.
"You hear yourself? When you start living alone, that's when you'll start learning? King, that's not how it works."
King only nodded, quietly determined.
Win let out a sharp breath. "If it's permission you're asking for, then hear me clearly. I'm not allowing you to live alone unless you can give me a genuine reason."
King met his gaze, his voice low but firm. "I have a reason."
Win arched a brow. "Then I'm listening. Tell me."
King hesitated, then spoke, each word heavy.
"I'm not getting younger. I need to start a life of my own."
Win leaned forward. "And did I stop you from doing that?"
King swallowed hard, his hands trembling as he clutched the blanket. "What I mean is… I need to have a relationship. Someone I can call mine."
Win's expression stiffened. "You can. Find yourself a girlfriend. I'm not stopping you."
King lifted his head, eyes burning with unshed tears. "I don't need a girlfriend, Win. I need a boyfriend. I'm gay."
The word hung in the air like a spark to dry wood. Win's composure cracked, his voice sharp and cutting.
"You're not gay. You're just… obsessed with men. That's all. And it's fine. I'll even let you go out more often, meet new people, find yourself a real girlfriend. Not like the one you dragged home to fool me with the other day."
King's chest heaved, his voice trembling but clear. "I don't want to pretend anymore. I don't want a girlfriend. I'm gay, Win. Please, just allow me to be myself."
"Never!" Win snapped, his voice loud enough to rattle the air between them. His face flushed with anger, his eyes dark with something harsher than fury. "You're not moving out. I won't allow it. Do you even hear yourself? Shamelessly saying you love men? Shamelessly wanting them on you? Aren't you ashamed of yourself?"
King's voice broke, but he didn't back down. "I told you, I'm not ashamed. Can you please allow me this one thing?"
Win slammed his hand against the table, making King flinch. "No! That's final."
The room fell silent, the tension between them thick and suffocating. King lowered his head, but the hurt in his chest was louder than any words Win could ever shout.
Just then, the doorbell rang. Win dragged in a sharp breath, forcing himself to calm before answering it. When he opened the door, Mike stood there, holding a folder in his hand.
The moment King heard the voice at the door, he stood up from the couch. His face was pale but determined.
"I'll move out this weekend, Win. And that's final. It's my life, and I deserve to live it the way I want."
He didn't wait for a reply. He turned and climbed the stairs, his footsteps echoing in the silence.
Win's voice followed after him, sharp and unyielding.
"You're not moving anywhere! And that's final!"
Mike blinked, glancing between the two of them, the air heavy with tension. When King disappeared upstairs, Mike turned back to Win.
"What the hell is going on here?"
Win let out a frustrated sigh and explained everything, King's request to move out, his admission, his insistence.
Mike listened quietly, then exhaled heavily, running a hand through his hair.
"Win, let him go. Let him live on his own. Actually, why am I even saying this? He doesn't need your permission. He's a grown man. He can do whatever he wants."
Win's eyes narrowed. "If you don't have anything useful to say, Mike, maybe it's better you leave."
Mike's expression hardened, his voice rising.
"What is your problem, Win? You've made it clear you don't love him. You treat him like a brother, fine, but then why the hell do you act like you own him? Why do you keep calling him names, spitting out 'gay' like it's some dirty word, just because he had the courage to admit who he is?"
Win's jaw tightened, his tone sharp. "Please, Mike. Enough. Stop talking like you know everything about me."
But Mike stepped closer, lowering his voice, his words hitting like a blade.
"Oh, I do know you, Win. I know you're selfish. You want something, but you'll never admit it. Instead, you'd rather chain him here, not let him move on, not let him find someone who actually wants him. You're too much of a coward to confess your feelings, so you punish him instead."
Win's breath caught, his chest narrowed, but Mike didn't stop.
"You're crazy, Win. Wicked, even. King is not your property. He's a human being, with blood running through his veins. Stop treating him like he's some kind of disease or problem you're stuck with. Wake up before you destroy him completely."
The words hung in the room like thunder after lightning, and for once, Win had no answer.
Win's shoulders sagged, the fight draining out of him. He slumped onto the couch, pressing both hands to his head. His voice cracked as he whispered, "I'm sorry, Mike… It's not easy for me."
Mike's anger softened. He drew in a long breath and sat beside him. "I'm not angry, Win. But listen to me, if you love him, whether as a brother or anything else, you need to let him go. Let him live on his own terms."
Win shook his head, his voice breaking. "I can't, Mike. I just… I can't. If he leaves, if he goes out there alone, it'll feel like I'm losing him forever."
Mike placed a firm hand on his shoulder, his tone calm but steady. "Then treat him better. Stop giving him reasons to want to leave."
Win lifted his head, eyes raw, desperate. "How? How do I do that? Tell me, Mike. Please."
Mike gave a small smile, not unkind. "Stop suffocating him. Stop holding him so tight he can't breathe. Let him move freely."
Win frowned. "Move freely to where?"
Mike let out a quiet laugh and shook his head. "Not out of your life, Win. I mean let him have freedom. Let him make friends beyond just you and Charlotte. Stop keeping him caged like he's fragile glass. That way… he won't feel the need to run from you."
Win swallowed hard, the weight of Mike's words pressing deep into his chest.
Just then, King came down the stairs, now dressed and ready to go out. His steps were brisk, his expression indistinct.
The moment Win saw him, he shot up from the couch. "Where are you going, King?"
King didn't answer. He didn't even spare him a glance. He simply grabbed his car keys from the table and headed straight for the door.
"King…"