61

61
The car screeched to a stop outside St. Augustine City Hospital. Mateo was out before the driver could even open the door, his long strides eating the ground.

His eyes locked on the first uniformed nurse he saw at the reception desk.

“Silas Reeds,” he said, voice clipped, urgent. “Where is he?”

The nurse blinked, startled by the force in his tone, then checked her clipboard. “You must be Mr. Woods…?”

“Yes.” His reply was a growl.

She nodded quickly, stepping out from behind the counter. “Follow me, please. He’s in Ward C, third floor. We’ve stabilized him, but he’s still weak from blood loss and shock. Doctor Morales will brief you shortly.”

Mateo’s jaw flexed, but he gave a curt nod. Every second she spoke grated against his nerves.

“Ward C,” he repeated under his breath, following her down the hall, his fists tight at his sides.

The nurse glanced back once, lowering her voice. “He kept asking for you, Mr. Woods. Even before he lost consciousness again.”

Mateo’s heart twisted, but he didn’t answer. He only walked faster.

Mateo pushed open the ward door slowly, careful not to let it slam.

He lay there asleep, lashes brushing his pale cheeks, his lips parted slightly as he breathed.

Even bruised, he looked heartbreakingly delicate—like porcelain that had been carelessly shattered.

Mateo’s throat tightened. He stepped closer, the sound of the monitor beeping steady in the background. His eyes scanned every cut, every bandage, every faint mark.

He lowered himself into the chair at Silas’s bedside, leaning in close until his whisper trembled in the air.
“Oh my god… who did this to you?”

The nurse, standing by the door, lingered for a moment. Then, as if sensing the weight of the moment, she quietly slipped out, leaving them alone.

Mateo reached out, his hand hovering inches from Silas’s cheek, aching to touch .

Silas shifted faintly in his sleep, lips moving as though caught in a dream.

At first, it was nothing more than a breathy murmur. Then—clear enough for Mateo to catch—

“…Mateo… stupid… bossy… but… so handsome…”

Mateo blinked. His brows lifted, and then, to his own surprise, a chuckle escaped him.

Silas’s lashes fluttered, his unconscious lips still spilling words.
“…your stupid hair… bet it’s soft… wonder if you kiss… as rough as you talk…”

Mateo’s hand froze halfway to his cheek. His lips twitched.
“Unbelievable,” he muttered, shaking his head—but the smile that broke across his face refused to leave.

He leaned back in the chair, covering his mouth with his hand to stifle a laugh, eyes never leaving Silas’s flushed sleeping face.

“Guess I’ll have to ask you about that when you’re awake, pretty boy.”

Mateo’s fingers hovered just above Silas’s hair, the urge too strong to resist. One touch—that was all he wanted. Just to feel if those soft strands were as tempting as they looked.

His hand lowered slowly, almost brushing the dark locks when—

Silas’s eyes snapped open.

Mateo froze. His breath caught as those hazy, dazed eyes locked directly into his...

For a heartbeat, neither moved. Mateo’s hand was still mid-air, dangerously close, while Silas blinked up at him, his lips parting faintly.

“…Mateo?” Silas whispered, his voice hoarse, fragile.

Mateo’s throat worked. His lips curved into a sly, almost guilty smile.
“Caught me,” he murmured, his voice low, teasing. “You wake up at the worst times, you know that?”

Silas’s lashes fluttered, his dazed softness sharpening the instant his fogged brain caught up with reality. His voice cracked at first, but the venom sharpened with every word.

“What… what are you doing here?” His tone cut like glass. Silas shifted against the pillows, glaring up at him. “Don’t you dare touch me.”

Mateo’s hand snapped back, the ghost of a smile fading from his lips.

“I just want to be alone,” Silas hissed, his voice rising despite the weakness in his chest. “Why do you have to come barging in? You’re ruining everything!” His breath stopped but he pressed on, each word spat with fire.

“I just want you out of here. I hate you. You disgust me… Mateo Woods.”

The name landed heavy between them.

“Silas…” Mateo’s voice said lowly. He leaned closer, ignoring the sting of those words. His hand twitched at his side, aching to reach for him again. “What are you—”

“Don’t.” Silas cut him off, sharp, stubborn. He turned his face away, wincing as the movement tugged at his injuries. “Don’t you dare reach for me.”

Mateo’s chest tightened. “I’m just—”

“I don’t want your pity!” Silas snapped, his voice cracking but firm.

His fingers gripped the blanket like he was anchoring himself to anything but Mateo’s presence. “I don’t need you. I don’t need this.”

Mateo stared at him, jaw clenching, breath unsteady.

He’d seen Silas angry before, but this—this raw, brittle defiance even while lying broken in a hospital bed—it cut deeper than he wanted to admit.

Still, Silas refused to look at him, his expression stubborn, every line of his body screaming one thing: stay away.

Mateo’s fingers twitched at his side, aching to reach for him but holding back. His voice cracked at the edges when he spoke.

“Fine, Silas… I won’t come close.” His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. “But can I at least stay? I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

Silas’s eyes glistened, but the fire in them didn’t waver. He turned his head. “No, Mateo. You can’t.” His voice trembled, but the words were sharp.

He pushed himself up on one elbow. “Let me say it plain. I’m breaking up with you. I don’t want you to be my boyfriend. I don’t want to be yours.”

Mateo’s lips parted, his chest rising as if the words had stolen the air out of him.

Silas’s voice cracked but grew louder. “Your money doesn’t move me. I don’t give a damn about it. I’m not a toy for you to play with, Mateo. I deserve to be loved. Really loved. So stay away…” His voice faltered, a tear slipping down his cheek. “Leave.”

The silence stretched between them, heavily .Mateo’s jaw worked, his eyes teary He finally whispered, , “If that’s what you want… I’ll go.”

He lingered just a second longer, memorizing Silas’s face, before turning toward the door.

The sound of his footsteps faded, leaving Silas clutching the blanket, tears spilling freely as the words he forced out cut him deeper than any wound.