Chapter 199
Chapter 199
Blue woke with a jolt, the early morning light streaming through the glass walls of the room. He realized he had actually managed to sleep, albeit lightly and interrupted by the sounds of the ocean and the occasional shift from his "roommate."
He looked toward the corner. Maren was still there, curled slightly, the pillow under his head. His breathing was deep and slow now. Blue watched him for a moment—the harsh planes of his face softened by sleep, the dark stubble, the look of deep, crushing weariness etched into his features. He looked vulnerable, utterly human, and tragically handsome.
Blue quickly averted his gaze. He climbed out of bed, careful not to make a sound. He crossed the room, grabbed a fresh t-shirt and jeans from his duffel, and slipped into the bathroom.
When he emerged a few minutes later, Maren was awake. He was sitting up, rubbing his temples, his green eyes dull with exhaustion but focused intently on Blue.
"Good morning," Maren said, his voice husky from sleep and disuse.
Blue grabbed his toiletries bag and crossed to the door. "Good morning," he replied curtly, keeping his voice neutral. "I'm heading downstairs. Don't forget your pillow."
He walked out, leaving Maren sitting alone on the floor.
Downstairs, the atmosphere was thick with the scent of coffee and the low murmur of conversation. Nixxon and Vernon were cooing over the baby, Naomi and Isolde was sipping tea, and Bianca, Dante, and Armani were huddled over a tablet, likely discussing what to purchase for the baby.
Black was already at the large island, chatting amiably with Damon and Dane.
"Blue! There you are, roommate," Bianca greeted him, her eyes sparkling with mischief. She didn't wait for his reply. "How was the accommodation? Dane says Maren's room was very comfortable."
Blue ignored the jab, walking straight to the coffee pot. "I slept fine. Unlike some people who were clearly planning a hostile takeover of my room."
"Oh, the truth comes out," Dante teased, looking up from the tablet.
Black smiled, walking over to Blue with a mug. "Good morning, Blue. Did you manage to survive the strong, silent type?"
"Barely," Blue replied, forcing a smile that didn't reach his eyes. He deliberately leaned into Black's space, accepting the mug.
"Don't worry," Black whispered conspiratorially. "I've been in the art world long enough to know a drama queen when I see one. You just focus on the good stuff."
As the chatter continued, Maren walked in. He was freshly showered, his hair damp, and wearing a simple black t-shirt and jeans—his usual uniform. The shades were gone, revealing the naked, agonizing exhaustion in his eyes.
He didn't look at anyone but Blue. He walked straight to the coffee pot, but paused a discreet distance away.
"You look awful, Maren," Bianca stated bluntly.
"I feel it," Maren replied, his voice flat.
He poured a mug of coffee and walked to the edge of the island, standing opposite Blue. He didn't speak to him, but his presence was a heavy, suffocating weight.
Blue, suddenly aware of Maren's hunger and his probable nausea from the night before, felt the unwelcome surge of the mate-bond's concern again. He wanted to tell him to grab some toast, something bland.
Instead, Black spoke up. "Are you getting any food, Maren? You look like you're about to pass out."
Maren finally looked at someone other than Blue, fixing his gaze on Black. "I'm fine."
"He doesn't eat much these days," Blue found himself saying, the words slipping out automatically, rooted in old habits. He froze, instantly regretting the intimate admission.
Maren's eyes widened fractionally, a flicker of pained hope shining in the gold. 'He knows.'
"Well, you should," Black insisted, placing a gentle hand on Blue's back, a gesture that Maren tracked with intense, controlled fury. "If Blue says you're not eating, you should listen. He's very observant about people he cares about."
Maren stared at the hand on Blue's back, then fixed his gaze on Blue, whose cheeks were flushed crimson.
"Blue," Maren said, his voice low and firm, his tone cutting through the noise of the room, "can we talk for a moment? Alone."
Blue bristled, shaking off Black's hand. "We have nothing to talk about, Maren."
"It's about the... the arrangement," Maren clarified, choosing his words carefully. "We need to discuss the rules of co-habitation, since we are apparently stuck together."
Blue knew he couldn't refuse without looking ridiculous. "Fine."
He slammed his mug down and walked quickly toward the wide, empty dining room table, leaving Maren to follow.
Maren followed Blue and waited until they were far enough from the kitchen.
"First rule," Maren stated immediately, his eyes locked on Blue's. "I won't pretend the bond is broken anymore. We both felt the connection last night. I won't pressure you to reconcile, but I won't lie about what happened."
"I don't care what you believe, Maren," Blue replied, his voice dangerously even. "I felt a residual electric shock. It's not the bond. The bond is gone. You are hallucinating because of your guilt. Rule one: you maintain the silence."
"I can't," Maren admitted, his voice barely a whisper. "I have to try. I have to apologize every day until you believe me."
Blue laughed, a short, sharp, bitter sound. "Then I hope you enjoy the sound of my laughter, because that's all you'll hear from me. Second rule: Black is my friend. You will be polite to him. You will not glower at him, and you will not interfere when he touches me."
Maren's jaw clenched. The thought of watching Black's casual intimacy with Blue was a torment, but he had to choose his battles.
"If he is your friend, I will try," Maren conceded stiffly. "But I won't pretend to like him."
"Good enough," Blue said, nodding. "Third rule: You will not, under any circumstances, ask me to stay or try to sabotage my plans. I am leaving as soon as Nixxon feels comfortable with me gone. And I am leaving alone. No sudden declarations of love, no forced intimacy, no using the fact that the bond is supposed to be active to trick me."
Maren looked down at the table, running a finger along the smooth wood. "I won't trick you, Blue. I just need you to look at me, truly look at me, and see the man who realized he gave up his soul for a cheap lie. I will adhere to your rules, but know this—" Maren lifted his head, his green eyes blazing with a painful intensity, "—every second I am near you, I will be fighting for the chance to earn back what I destroyed. You asked for distance, but you will only get proximity, because I cannot survive losing you again."
Blue's resolve trembled under the weight of Maren's agonizing sincerity.
"Then you've chosen your sentence, Maren," Blue whispered, turning away. "Enjoy the suffering."
He walked back to the kitchen, leaving Maren standing alone at the table, clutching the invisible cage they were now sharing.