Rome's POV
I shouldn't be here.
I know that before I even turning the wheel and park across the street. I know it when I kill the engine and sit there longer than necessary, fingers resting on the steering wheel like I'm bracing myself for impact.
Mhok asked me to leave. Both from him and his life he meant.
Very clearly.
And yet, here I am, watching him walk out of the office building like nothing between us ever cracked open.
He looks... fine. Too fine for someone who was a emotional bunch yesternight.
He is in a Black shirt, sleeves rolled up, his expression neutral. He looks so... delicious.
And then I see her.
A woman steps into frame beside him.she is so Close to him. She seems Familiar. She says something and he actually laughs. Laughs? He won't even smile with me. Yet he is laughing at her like she cracked some century's joke.
Something hot coils in my chest.
They cross the street together. She's talking animatedly, hands moving, laughter spilling out of her like she doesn't know how dangerous that sound is right now.
He listens to her. His head tilts slightly toward her, body angled in a way that feels intimate even from this distance.
I tell myself not to read into it.
But i fail.
They enter a café. I can see them clearly through the glass. They sit near the window, close enough that their knees almost touch. I clench my jaw without realizing even it.
The Food arrives. She leans forward, still talking, and a strand of her hair falls into her plate.
Mhok reaches out for it.
Just like that
He adjusts her hair gently and smiles. She laughs, looking up at him like he's done something charming.
I feel it then. Ugly of myself.
Jealousy.
My hand tightens on the door handle. For a second, I actually consider getting out of the car. Walking in. Letting him see me. Letting her see me.
Letting everyone know. That he is mine.
Then I remember his voice from last night.
This ends here.
I force myself to stay seated.
I watch him smile at her. Watch her lean closer. Watch the easy way he exists around her, like there are no rules, no lines, no consequences.
It burns me .
Too much.
Suddenly, he stands and says something to her. She looks surprised, then nods. She grabs her bag and heads toward the stairs that lead up to the offices above the café.
And then he turns straight toward me.
My pulse stutters at the look in his eyes.
He crosses the street without hesitation and stops right beside my car. I don't even get the chance to roll the window down before he yanks the door open.
"What the hell are you doing?" he snaps.
I blink. "Good to see you too."
"Don't," he says sharply. "Why are you following me without protection?"
"I wasn't-"
"Don't lie," he cuts in. "You're terrible at it."
I exhale slowly. "I was just... in the area."
His eyes narrow. "Leave."
"Who is she?" The question slips out before I can stop it.
His expression hardens. "That's none of your business. Do you think what will happen if someone finds you here? Do you know the consequences?"
"You were laughing with her," I say, hating how bitter it sounds.
"So?" he sighs tired of me.
"You touched her."
He stares at me like he's deciding whether to punch me or walk away. "Her name is Plub," he says finally. " she is Peach's sister."
The tension in my chest loosens instantly.
Oh.
I mask it quickly, but he notices. Of course he does.
"Right," I say, forcing casual into my voice. "That's... good."
He scoffs. "Doesn't change anything."
"It changes something," I argue. "You could've told me."
"I don't owe you any explanations," he snaps. "And I don't even like you."
The words hit harder than expected.
"I won't like you," he continues, voice steady but eyes sharp. "Not now. Not later. So stop following me. Stop showing up. Don't come back to me."
Silence stretches between us.
I want to argue. To demand. To pull him closer just to prove him wrong.
Instead, I nod once.
"As you wish," I say quietly.
He steps back, slams the door shut, and walks away without looking back.
I sit there long after he disappears, my reflection staring back at me through the windshield.
I shouldn't have been here.
But walking away feels like losing something I never even got to hold.
Later that evening, I catch him in the corridor outside p' Kian's study. He's reading something on his phone, his expression blank
"Mhok," I say quietly, "do you ever get tired?"
His jaw tightens. "Of what?"
"Of choosing duty every time."
His eyes harden. "Someone has to."
"And what about you?" I press. "Where do you fit in all this?"
"I don't," he says simply.
That answer breaks something in me.
Just... cleanly. How can I fit in somewhere, where even he doesn't fit in.
I nod once. "Right."
He bows slightly. "If there's nothing else, khun Rome."
And he walks away.
That night, I don't sleep.
I sit in my room, bracelet looped around my fingers, rubbing my thumb over the faded engraving like it might change if I stare hard enough.
HBD R.
He remembered my birthday before I did.
He protected me without being asked. Loved me without permission. And now he's erasing himself piece by piece because he thinks that's what loyalty looks like.
I understand then.
Love shouldn't feel like begging someone to exist beside you.