Free Web NovelChapter 81: _In A Public Restroom
For a few seconds too long, Ambrose didn’t move. He just kept staring at his phone on the toilet, watching it ring with Devon’s name flashing like an alarm signal.
Viktor was still right outside the toilet stall, arms folded as he waited for him to get out. But then the Esper questioned curiously:
"Isn’t that your phone?"
Ambrose gulped. "Yep."
"So why aren’t you answering it? Someone you don’t want to speak to?" A pause. "Wait... don’t tell me it’s Devon."
Embarrassment flooded Ambrose’s cheeks. He pretended not to hear him, grabbing the phone. He was about to answer it when Viktor chimed.
"I wouldn’t pick that if I were you anyway."
Ambrose’s forehead creased. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me. You’re in no condition to see or talk to him right now."
"But I’m in a condition to see you?" Ambrose spun around, eyes falling on the space underneath the stall door. And Viktor’s shadow stretching past it. "Listen—"
"I’m only here to drop off fresh clothes, naughty bird," the S-Rank chuckled. "All I said was a suggestion. If you wanted to pick that call, you would’ve by now."
Ambrose bit his bottom lip. His heart pounded under his ribs, chest tightening with something annoyingly close to guilt.
Then—he put his phone on silent, letting out a shaky exhale. Dropping the phone back on the toilet, he went on to change into fresh clothes.
Deep down, he knew he couldn’t handle explaining where he’s been all day to Devon right now. Let alone Orion.
So he’ll have to hurry up and go see them physically.
★★★★★
Orion’s Bedroom.
Meanwhile, up in Ambrose’s suite, Devon watched his phone flash for the second time with no answer from the Guide. He clicked his tongue, shoving the phone into his pocket.
"No calls, no texts..." he rested his head against the wall, his arms folding in front of his chest. "Where are you, Rose?"
It was taking everything in him not to burst out of here and scour the city in search of him. But he couldn’t. Because that would mean he’ll have to let Orion stay here all by himself.
"Papa?" Speaking of which, the little rascal called from his bathroom just then.
Devon wore the brightest smile he could muster, peeking his head in. "Hey, buddy. You’re almost done with your bath?"
The little boy was in the bathtub, a big smile on his face as he splashed around and played with the bubbles. He giggled, those golden eyes glinting with innocent glee.
"Papa, could you make those butterflies again?"
Devon nodded without much thought, spreading out his fingers and placing them in front of his chest. He drew in a short breath, wiggling his fingers a bit.
Yellow flames sparked between them, conjuring multiple butterflies glowing with the same light. They fluttered around Devon before flying to Orion, one even landing on his wet blonde hair.
"Whoa," Orion clapped excitedly, catching one between his palms. Although made of flames, it didn’t burn him, letting him play as much as he wanted. "Your powers are so cool, Papa."
Warmth surged through Devon’s chest. Almost clouding the worry and suspicion he had for Ambrose.
Almost.
’I hate to think Han is right about something,’ he thought to himself. ’But Ambrose... he’s been acting odd. Stepping out more when he was always a shut-in last I checked.’
He didn’t know enough of his permanent Guide to begin with. But his absence tonight made an idea he’s had for a while burn even brighter.
That maybe—just maybe—Ambrose Hale had something he was hiding from him. Something big.
★★★★★
"Why the heck are these jeans so damn tight?" Ambrose cursed, hopping out of the toilet stall after getting dressed up.
He walked past Viktor, standing in front of a mirror and checking himself out. Was it just him or have his muscles become so much more defined recently?
"They should’ve been your size," Viktor remarked, a sly smile on his lips. "I guess you’ve grown bigger. Devon’s probably been feeding you well."
Ambrose threw him a snide look. "What’s that supposed to mean?"
"Exactly what you heard." Viktor moved to his side, Ambrose’s bloody clothes hanging lazily off his hands. "I see you didn’t pick that call after all."
"And I see you haven’t gotten rid of those clothes as I asked you to." Ambrose’s mouth curled in a sarcastic smile. "Thanks. I’ll take it from here."
He was about to take the clothes off the man’s hands when the latter took a couple of steps back. That took Ambrose by surprise, making him stumble forward until he fell right into the Esper’s arms.
"So clumsy." Viktor teased, deliberately placing a hand on Ambrose’s waist. "What? You just called me all the way here to deliver you new clothes?"
Ambrose’s breath hitched, his cheeks reddening. "I–I told you. If you want me to do any outrageous favours for you, I won’t—"
"I didn’t say anything about a favour," Viktor’s fingers inched higher, gripping the small of his back. "But it’s just been me and you here for several minutes. You clearly don’t want to tell me what happened to you, so..."
The S-Rank halted, his icy blue eyes flicking to Ambrose’s eyes. The latter stilled as well, not even attempting to move away.
The link between them thrummed with something real. Something that ran down Ambrose’s neck like frost. Their hearts beat in sync, every thought simmering away.
Ambrose’s gaze landed on the ice Prince’s lips. Thin. Rosy.
He swallowed, pulse stuttering when Viktor suddenly began inching closer. Their noses touched, eye contact never breaking for even a second.
Was this... was this happening right now?
Were they really about to do this right here? In a public restroom?!
Ambrose’s mind had a tug of war between the part of him that saw this as wrong and the other, dangerous part that craved it. However, before their lips could meet—
—The restroom door burst open, and a man in a suit strode in. He was whistling a tune that died in his throat when his eyes pinned on Viktor and Ambrose.
"... Oh–" he looked away. "I, uhm—I’m sorry."
Ambrose had already pulled himself out of Viktor’s grip as if it burned. He lowered his head, bolting out of the restroom without looking back.
Leaving Viktor standing there with a storm rising in his chest. One that refused to die out.
Viktor’s gaze darkened, fingers curling slightly.
"Running again..." he murmured. "Let’s see how long you keep that up."
He pulled out his phone, texting his assistant to come help him take the blood-stained clothes out of here.
