Free Web NovelChapter 231: _Let Your Mask Slip
"Oh." Devon froze the second he opened the back door and saw Ambrose’s and Valentine’s dangerously intimate position.
The S-Rank blinked a few times.
Meanwhile, Ambrose stepped away from Valentine like his presence was his Kryptonite, faking a cough. He tried his best to avoid Devon’s piercing golden gaze despite it being locked on him.
No one said a word for several seconds.
Then, "I was coming out to check on you," Devon forced a smile, eyes flitting over Valentine briefly before landing on Ambrose. "And to tell you that lunch was delightful. Looks like someone has been learning from my cooking skills."
Ambrose’s cheeks reddened. "You say that as if I wasn’t cooking meals for myself before I met you."
"Tch. I doubt it." Devon was so tempted to tease more but he could sense the tension between Rose and the Necromancer.
And as much as he’d like to interrupt out of sheer pettiness... he drew in all the self-respect and control he could and stepped back inside.
"Orion was in the middle of showing me his homework. I better go deal with that."
Ambrose nodded. "T–That’s good. I could come help too—"
"Don’t worry, Rose," Devon insisted. "Besides, it’s math. You won’t want to deal with that, would you?"
"... Ugh. No. I won’t."
With an ear-to-ear grin, Devon leaned closer for a beat. He pressed a soft kiss on Ambrose’s cheek, making sure to maintain eye contact with Valentine for that brief second.
Once he pulled away and left—Ambrose finally realised that he was holding his breath all this time.
"Lord," he shut the door behind them, brushing his fingers through his messy blonde hair. "That could’ve gotten awkward really quickly."
Valentine chuckled. "And why’s that?"
"You know exactly what almost happened."
"Oh, do I?"
"You... you are so fucking confusing, I swear to God."
"I bet you tell all the men you kiss that," Valentine slipped away from him, moving toward the fence.
Ambrose’s mouth parted like he was going to say something. A rebuttal. Something sarcastic. Anything at all.
But he couldn’t.
Because as much as he hated admitting it, he knew Valentine’s words held a lot of truth.
Rubbing his neck, he took slow steps to Valentine’s side while the latter raised his head to the afternoon sky. They stood like that for what felt like ages.
Saying nothing. Doing nothing.
Just two men who’ve faced and twisted death too many times to count—admiring the beauty of life around them.
"You know," the SS-Rank gradually angled his head to Ambrose, "you don’t have to keep hiding your feelings."
That took the Guide off guard. "I don’t hide my feelings."
"I’m the wrong man to tell a lie to," Valentine barked a mocking laugh. "Not to mention the fact that you’re lying to yourself."
"How can you tell me I hide my feelings?"
"Because you do," Valentine shrugged. "You mask them. Definitely because you’re afraid of what having them out in the open would mean."
"I’m beginning to question if I should’ve let you go instead of insisting you stay for lunch."
"See?" The Necromancer shook his head. "You’re doing it now. You avoid and deflect whenever someone tries peeling off the mask you’ve spent so long keeping."
A lump throbbed achingly in Ambrose’s throat. He tried and failed to respond to that. Because even if he spoke, it would probably be something sarcastic.
Another tactic in avoiding feelings. Which would further prove Valentine’s point.
"I know I taught you how to deflect and keep your secrets," time appeared to slow as Valentine spun his body to face Ambrose fully. "But you have one thing I didn’t have when I was your age."
Orion’s cheerful giggles rolled out of the house just then.
Faint.
Muffled.
Yet enough to make Ambrose’s rigid muscles truly relax for the first time since he came back from the raid mission.
Valentine noticed and smirked. "You have a family, Ambrose," he reached for his shoulder, tapping him gently. "People who genuinely care for you. Not out of duty or because you’re a member of any team. They see all your flaws and still choose you. And that?"
His eyes slid to the house. "... That’s not confusing at all. At least not when you let the mask slip around them for a change."
Ambrose stood still as he brushed past him as though he was heading toward the house. Just when he snapped his neck backwards—he was gone.
The Guide searched around aimlessly with zero luck. Then he snorted. "For someone who can’t manipulate space, he sure is sneaky as hell."
His phone buzzed with a notification.
He pulled it out of his pants and sure enough it was a text from Valentine Lockwood.
>Tell you what? I’ve got the perfect idea. Remember that favour you owe me?<
Chills ran down Ambrose’s spine.
Shit.
He almost forgot he still owed the Necromancer a favour.
Shoving down his initial apprehension, Ambrose typed a response:
>Yeah, I remember. What about it?<
Only a few seconds passed before the ’typing’ icon popped on his screen.
>I wish to use it of course.<
>Well, go on already, I guess.<
>First, you better make sure you aren’t staring at your phone with that look.<
>What look?<
>You know the look, Ambrose.<
[I know the look he’s talking about and you actually have it on right now.] Aura chimed just then.
Ignoring the system, Ambrose watched the ’typing’ icon stay suspended for several seconds. Each passing moment made him dread what the Necromancer might have planned for him.
Soon enough, the text came in.
>I’ve made a reservation at a five-star hotel. Me, you, Devon and the snowman who hates my face will go out on any night of your choosing. Dine at their restaurant. Just grown men letting loose... with wine, of course. And oh, Gabriel will tag along as my chaperone.<
Silence.
Ambrose gawked at the string of words for several, nauseating seconds. As if staring hard enough would make them change to something else.
Spoiler alert: they didn’t.
He barely got the chance to recover when Valentine followed up with another text:
>I’ll take your silence to mean you’re on board. Good. Ensure you pick a date soon though. Or I will.<
