Chapter Fifteen
Nolan
I eat silently. We all do.
The only sounds are the clink of forks against plates, the occasional rustle of napkins. It should be awkward, but it's not. Not really. It's quiet in a way that feels… settled.
And the food?
It's incredible.
It's been ages since I've had Ciel's cooking. Real cooking. Not instant noodles in motel kettles or burnt rations over a portable stove. This? This warms me—inside and out.
I glance up, about to say something—thank you, or this is amazing, or just his name—but the words freeze in my throat.
Because he's not looking at me.
He's looking at Jack.
And it's not just a glance. It's that soft, absentminded gaze people give when they think no one's watching. When they feel safe. When they've already given something of themselves away.
There's a smile at the corner of his lips, small and unguarded.
Jack looks up then and he actually gives Ciel two thumbs up like a complete idiot. And Ciel laughs. Not out loud, but in his face. His shoulders ease, his cheeks soften.
It's a look I haven't seen in months.
And all I feel is jealousy.
I hate it.
I hate that I feel this way—like some petty, bitter kid in a high school drama. But I can't help it. It burns through my chest, hot and sharp and shameful. I look down at my plate and shovel another bite in like food can drown out the ache.
It doesn't.
Ciel made this meal, but he made it in Jack's kitchen. Using Jack's spices. With Jack watching from the doorway like he belonged here all along.
And me?
I'm the afterthought.
The stray they picked up on the way.
I glance up again. Ciel's still smiling softly, still unaware, and Jack?
Jack notices. Of course he notices. His eyes flick to mine for a second, and there's something smug there. Or maybe I'm imagining it. He takes a slow sip from his glass, like this is just another Tuesday at his fucking seaside villa.
I shove my chair back. The scrape echoes too loud in the calm.
"I'm done," I mutter, sharper than I mean to.
Ciel blinks, startled. "You didn't eat much."
"Wasn't hungry."
Lie.
I walk out before either of them can stop me. Because I need air. Because if I stay one second longer, I'll explode.
***
Jack
"I'm sorry about that," Ciel says softly, like he's the one who stormed out.
"It's fine." I keep chewing, slow and unbothered. (Or at least, I fake it well.)
He sighs. "I don't know what's wrong with him."
I do. I know exactly what's wrong with him. But I don't say it. I just hum, tilt my head, and let the silence stretch.
Ciel fidgets with the edge of his napkin, glancing toward the hall Nolan disappeared down. He's worried.
And God, that irritates me more than I want to admit.
"He just… worries too much," Ciel says, half to himself.
I set my fork down gently. "That what that was? Worry?"
He flinches a little. Caught.
"I mean… yeah. He's been with me through a lot, Jack."
I nod, lean back. "I get it."
"He doesn't like you," Ciel blurts, helpless.
I shrug. "That's fine. I don't need him to."
He looks at me then—really looks. And for a moment, his lips curve into that small, reluctant smile.
"You're a weird one."
"You say that like it's a bad thing."
His smile deepens, and I swear my chest gets too tight.
"I'll go check on him," he says finally, standing.
I watch him disappear down the hall, and then I spear the last piece of chicken on my plate.
Let the beta sulk. Let Ciel go soothe him. Let them have their little drama.
Whatever.
I've got the food and it's bloody delicious.