Free Web NovelChapter 93: _I Like What I Like
"D–Devon," Ambrose wore a smile, walking toward the S-Rank. His eyes scanned around them, noticing people still staring. "Hey. How about we go get that—"
"Don’t start, Rose." He shut him down fast.
They stood just a few paces away from the Apostolic palace, the building shielding them from the sun’s rays. Not that it mattered much when Devon brought all the heat.
"What did I just witness?" He went on. "Was all that what you had to ’handle’ out here? I stepped out only to see you... faint? Before I could even do anything Gabriel... he gave you mouth-to-mouth."
He blinked erratically, as if he couldn’t believe the words coming out of his own mouth. Ambrose held his breath for a beat, grabbing his arm while glancing around.
"Devon... people are watching." Ambrose spiralled down into damage control. "It’s not what it looks like. Gabriel and I were talking and—"
"You got so overwhelmed that you fainted?" Devon snapped, shaking his head. "No—did that guy do something to you? Did he hurt you?"
He didn’t wait for an answer, hands brushing over every inch of Ambrose’s face before drifting to his chest, arms and more.
Ambrose’s cheeks burned. "It’s... It’s nothing like that at all." He struggled not to raise his voice. "Devon, please. I was only talking about how impressed I was with what he did at Norfolk. Then Valentine... he just popped up too."
Devon pulled his fingers back, brows arching. "Right—the SS-Rank grim reaper who you still haven’t explained his connection with you."
The Guide flung his head to the side. "Devon—"
"I just don’t understand how you always manage to get entangled with all these powerful people," Devon huffed, brushing back strands of his fiery red hair. "I understand you don’t want to be with me. But seeing you around these people..."
The words didn’t make their way out of his mouth. They didn’t need to.
Ambrose could already feel what he was driving at. First due to the tight tug from the permanent link, like a noose reminding him it couldn’t be broken.
Then—the subtle way his jaw ticked. The way he avoided eye contact... even the way he refused to let go of his arm.
’Dear Lord.’ The thought came unbidden. ’He’s jealous. Isn’t he?’
[Yeah. Fork found in the kitchen.]
’Again, this is your fault.’ Guilt flooded through his chest like a shattered dam. ’How does one go about seducing the Guideverse without attracting the jealousy and unwanted attention of so many powerful Espers?’
[The age-old question.] Aura was as cynical as ever. [Perhaps you should let yourself open up more. And maybe find a way to make them all... coexist.]
His brain might’ve briefly short-circuited trying to imagine himself in a relationship with not one, not two... but multiple men. He wasn’t even able to survive one in his last life.
Yeah... no.
"Ambrose?" Devon spoke up when he noticed him spacing out. The S-Rank snorted a dry laugh. "You must have a lot running through that head of yours. To be spacing out so frequently."
Ambrose’s eyes lowered as a cheeky smile played on his lips. "Well, believe it or not... a lot of those thoughts somehow end up revolving around you." He brushed his fingers over Devon’s elbow.
Slowly, he traced his biceps, feeling them through the jacket he had on. His breath caught, grip nearly faltering. Until he found a steady balance.
They stayed like that for several seconds, the world around them blurring out into nothing but background noise.
That moment soon snapped when Devon sighed. "You still up for ice-cream? We’ve got a few hours before we’ll need to come back here."
Warmth bloomed behind Ambrose’s ribs. "I’d love that."
To his surprise, Devon’s fingers found his, coiling around them. He smiled without a word, pulling the stubborn Guide along with him.
As they wandered away from the Apostolic palace, however—something stirred in the air. Like someone somewhere was watching.
Ambrose glanced over his shoulder, eyes scouring past the pillars and people trooping out. Nothing out of the ordinary.
He ignored it, continuing to move beside Devon. Once they were a good distance away, someone stepped away from a pillar he was hiding behind.
He blew out a shuddering breath, frosting the air around him.
Viktor.
"Wasn’t that a lot?" He murmured, eyes narrowing as they followed the dots in the crowd that were Ambrose and Devon. "I knew there was something up with you... But being able to interact with two SS-Ranks like it was a meet and greet?"
He clicked his tongue, arms folding across his chest. "And Devon is just so wrapped around your fingers," a scoff. "Who could blame him?"
After a few more seconds, the ice Prince adjusted his blazer, keeping his chin high.
Chasing will be on hold.
For now... he’ll do what he does best.
Watch.
★★★★★
"Here we are." Devon gestured at a small shop deeper inside the city once they got in front of it. He beamed from ear to ear, shooting Ambrose a look. "Looks pretty empty."
A soft smile stretched Ambrose’s mouth. "Perfect."
"Just that?" Devon tugged at his hand. "Come on. Tell me... What’s your favourite flavour?"
"Uhm, I don’t know. All of them?"
"You’ve got to be kidding me."
"I like what I like as long as it’s sweet, okay?" He giggled, shoving Devon playfully on the shoulder. "Did you plan for us to sit inside? Or—"
"Uh, yeah." He squinted. "I mean, if you don’t want to go in, that’s totally fine. We could just buy them and quickly head back to the hotel."
Ambrose’s lips pursed.
He thought for a moment, already coming up with a decision. "Just... go in and see if there are really any available seats. I imagine a place like this would have reservations."
Devon gave him a pointed look. "... It’s an ice cream shop."
"And this is Vatican City." Ambrose rolled his eyes. "Go on. I’m right behind you."
The S-Rank finally shrugged, pushing past the double glass doors. As they shut behind him and the bell dinged, Ambrose’s shoulders relaxed.
"Don’t move." A voice echoed around him, making his muscles stiffen like a rock. "Or I’ll make you the latest headline in the worst way possible."
The words were cold. Certain like he had no other choice. And he didn’t even dare object.
’Fuck my life...’
