Chapter 157

Magnus Hale

He crouches down, washing my thighs, moving down to my feet, and cleaning between my toes with the same absurd attention. Then, he moves up again, lathering my cock without any sexual intent—just zeal, just care.

When he finishes the front, he turns me around. His hands travel slowly down my back, then my buttocks, and there he is even more careful. I feel him delicately remove the sperm that was inside me, but without a trace of lust.

As soon as he finishes soaping me up, I step under the water, letting the foam slide down my body as I rinse off. I take the soap from his hand and see his eyes go so wide they look like they’re going to pop out.

"You don't need to clean me, love," his voice comes out low, almost pleading. "I like taking care of you, so…"

"Be quiet," I interrupt him firmly.

He obeys instantly, closing his mouth and lowering his gaze. I take a deep breath and begin to scrub his shoulder, sliding slowly down to his chest, his stomach, and then his thighs. I crouch down until I reach his feet, washing between his toes with the same care he showed me.

When I stand back up, I realize his entire body is shaking. It’s so intense that I can hear his heartbeat—loud and hurried, as if my every touch is too much for him to handle.

"You take care of me… and I take care of you, Adrian," I say in a serene tone. "It’s that simple."

I turn him around and wash his back, then his buttocks, and finally, I turn him back to face me. Calmly, I rub his face, tracing every feature as if I were memorizing him. He steps under the water and rinses quickly but immediately pulls me into a tight hug, his face pressed against my chest.

"This can only be a dream," his breathless voice barely sustains the words. "I never imagined you’d take the initiative… not in sex, and not now, taking care of me like this. It has to be a dream."

I roll my eyes and let out a huff, even with a slight smile hidden away. I return the embrace, squeezing him back.

"It’s not a dream, Adrian. It’s real. Now let’s dry off and lie down. I’m exhausted."

He just nods, but not before kissing my chest affectionately. I turn off the shower, and he grabs the towel to dry me, every movement loaded with care and a silly happiness plastered across his face. Then it’s my turn to dry him, and I do it with the same patience.

I don’t feel like wearing anything. I just pull him by the hand toward the bed. I lie down and bring him with me, nesting his cheek against my chest. I feel his heart race even faster against my skin—so fast it’s almost funny.

"This kid is going to die of a heart attack just because I decided to take the lead," I think to myself before closing my eyes.

I feel the soft touch of his lips on my cheek, a simple kiss, but one loaded with devotion.

"Goodnight, love. Sleep well," he says in a low, serene tone.

He hugs me tightly, as if he’s afraid to let go, and pulls the sheet over us. I breathe deeply, feeling the warmth of his body against mine, and press a kiss to his still-damp hair.

"Goodnight, Adrian. You sleep well too."

I close my eyes again and let sleep envelop me, cradled by his embrace, by the frantic beat of his heart, and by the strange but comforting sense of peace he gives me.

I still can't believe I didn't mind being the submissive one… that, in fact, it was good. Very good. The feeling of him dominating me was too intense, almost addictive. And to make matters worse, I admitted to myself—if only to myself—that Adrian is beautiful when he loses control.

This kid has already found a way into my heart, even if I try to deny it. I can say I like his presence, his insane care, and this twisted way he wants to protect me from everything.

It’s strange, but at the same time… I feel comfortable. Who would have thought that one day I’d be like this with him? Me, of all people, who wanted to kill him for deceiving me, for taking my power.

Now I find myself curious… I'm curious to know how I’ll react when—not "if," but "when"—I fall in love with Adrian. The idea scares me, but it fascinates me too.

I already like his presence; I like the way he looks at me.

What will become of me when I truly love him?

I sigh softly, letting these thoughts drift away. Maybe it’s better to stop trying to understand. To just enjoy what I’m feeling now and let time show how it all unfolds.

I finally fall asleep, feeling him hold me even tighter, as if he wanted to ensure that even in my dreams, I couldn't escape him.

\[...\]

I wake up with a bad feeling, a sharp chill that climbs up my spine and settles in my chest. I lie still for a moment, trying to figure out where this sudden anguish is coming from. I open my eyes slowly… and I nearly have a heart attack.

Adrian is staring at me. He’s standing by the edge of the bed, his dark eyes fixed on me like blades. That calm face of his now looks like an immobile mask, and something in the intensity of his gaze cuts me deeper than any slap ever could.

"What the fuck, Adrian?" I manage to mutter, my voice sounding lost and strangely thin. My heart is beating so fast it feels like it wants to jump right out of my chest. "Trying to scare me to death, dammit?"

He doesn't answer. He doesn't move a single muscle except for his eyes, which don't blink. I watch the curve of his mouth, the way the light hits his face, and the confirmation of danger washes over me: this isn't a joke. It’s that absolute calm before the storm, and I get the impression that if I move the wrong way, everything will explode.

My breath catches. I place my hand on his cheek, looking for some human warmth, but his skin is strangely cold under my fingers.

"What is it?"

He suddenly grabs my hand and kisses my palm with delicacy, never breaking eye contact.

"I dreamed you vanished." His voice is a mere thread, hoarse, as if it had been dragged up from somewhere deep inside. "I saw you close the door and walk away without even looking back. I woke up in a panic... I haven't been able to sleep since. I need to see you, to keep you here. I need to be sure you won't escape."

I let out a heavy sigh, trying to brush off the shiver running down my spine.

"I'm not going to run away, Adrian."

The answer should have been enough. Instead, he squeezes my hand so hard I feel his fingers forming grooves in my skin, his nail leaving a red mark. His gaze, which had been almost pleading for comfort, turns animalistic: ravenous, sickly.

"I don't believe you." The sentence comes out low, but it cuts like a blade. "Your promise could be nothing but wind."

I realize then just how shattered he is: his lip trembles, his breath comes in short bursts, and the hand holding mine moves involuntarily, shaking as if every muscle is fighting to stay steady.

I pull him toward me and lay him down on my chest.

"I'm not going to run," I repeat, sliding my hand slowly through his hair. "I’ve already accepted that there’s no escaping you. And even if I tried, I know you’d hunt me down to hell. So... stay calm. I'm not going anywhere."

He hugs me so hard that, for a second, I can't breathe.

"Promise?" he whispers, his voice broken. "I love you too much, Magnus. Just imagining that you could abandon me makes me go insane. It makes me want to..." He swallows, his teeth grinding. "Break your legs. Just to guarantee you'll never leave."

A shiver runs from the nape of my neck to my feet. The worst part is the calmness with which he says it—so serene that it turns the threat into a routine.

"That kind of thinking is exactly what makes someone want to run," I answer, half-serious, half-ironic. "But I won't. I still have some love for my own life."

A low laugh escapes him, muffled against my chest. He stays there, motionless, squeezing me as if I were oxygen, and for a moment, this sickly possessiveness seems like nothing more than disguised fear.

"If I wasn't sure about what I wanted, I wouldn't have let you fuck me in that room," I say quietly, my voice hoarse with fatigue. "So, you can relax... I'm not going to run away."

He doesn't respond. He just continues to hug me tightly, his face buried in my chest as if he were trying to merge with me. I close my eyes, letting my body relax little by little, feeling the weight of the fear turn into exhaustion.

Deep down, I know I’ve entered something from which there is no exit. Even if one day I wanted to leave, I won't be able to. Because if I try… he will do exactly what he said. He’ll break my legs, and maybe my heart along with them.

"What a great life," I think, with a faint, joyless laugh, before sleep drags me back into the arms of my own personal hell.