Chapter 75: Childish
Chapter 74
Nolan
It’s complicated, this emotion.
Watching Jack and Ciel together feels like watching a sun I’ve spent years orbiting — suddenly realizing someone else has built a home right next to it. I feel like I’m being replaced. Like I’m slowly fading out of a picture that’s always been just the two of us.
And yet... I’m happy for him.
And at the same time, I hate that I’m not there. That it’s not me. That I’ve never been enough.
Lanny shifts in his crib with a soft, content sigh. I lean against the polished wood frame and stare down at him. His little fists are balled up in sleep, his hair already darkening — catching the same crimson tint Ciel has. There’s something achingly beautiful about it. Familiar.
He looks so much like him already.
I reach out, tracing the air just above his tiny forehead without touching him.
"Cute," I whisper.
I don’t know when I got attached to him. He wasn’t even supposed to be mine to love. But somehow, between the 3 AM feedings and the ridiculous giggles, he carved out a piece of me for himself.
And as I look at him now, soft and safe, I find myself wondering again — when exactly did I fall in love with Ciel? When did this stop being friendship? Would my life have been different if I hadn’t?
**
This is dumb.
I don’t know why the homeroom teacher insisted on giving me this stupid award.
A gold-trimmed certificate. Best performing student. A handshake no one clapped for.
My siblings were too busy. My parents too tired. My high school graduation was at the bottom of the family priority list — right under fixing the barn roof and above watering the cabbages.
My sister was pregnant. My youngest brother had a broken arm. My older brother had just gotten engaged. Everyone had their lives mapped out neatly — cabbages, weddings, and babies.
And then there was me. The one with a paper diploma.
A high school diploma.
I should have felt proud, I guess. Instead, I felt hollow. Like someone forgot to turn the volume up on the part of my life that was supposed to be a celebration.
Haa.
When they called my name, I walked up, shook the principal’s hand, accepted the award, and walked right off stage. I didn’t even look around. No one was watching me anyway.
Tilkermill.
A town where no one leaves — and the ones who do never come back.
I walked home with my cap and gown clutched in one hand, the diploma in the other. The heat beat down on the road, sticky and heavy. My boots kicked up dust as I went, no music, no cheering. Just the rhythmic crunch of gravel.
"Nolan!"
The voice hits me like lightning.
I turn — startled — just in time for something, someone, to crash into me.
I grab their arms instinctively to steady them and find myself staring at the person who, if I’m honest, has always been a little bit too much like oxygen to me.
"Ciel?"
Golden eyes. Crimson hair tied back messily. A grin like he’s standing under the open sky for the first time.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" I hiss, pulling him closer like my hands could hide him from the entire town. "You know you can’t leave. What if the Baron finds out—"
"Never mind that," he interrupts, voice soft but firm. "Congratulations."
He holds out a bouquet. It’s crooked. Wildflowers and a single red rose shoved awkwardly in the middle.
My throat tightens.
"Ciel, you—"
Before I can finish, he rises on his toes and kisses my cheek. Just a brush. But it’s enough.
My brain short circuits.
"Congratulations once again, Nolan Harlow." His voice drops to a whisper that still manages to fill the whole damn world.
"Thanks," I manage, my voice smaller than I’ve ever heard it.
"I wouldn’t have missed it for the world." His eyes shine like sunlight through glass.
Then a sleek black car rolls up, tearing the light out of the air.
Baron Rosengarde steps out — tall, furious, with the same crimson hair and eyes colder than winter water. He doesn’t need to say a thing; the fury in his face speaks volumes.
"Ciel," I say, panic twisting in my chest.
He smiles at me ,small, crooked. Too brave for someone who’s never had a choice.
"It’s okay. Since I’m older now, he doesn’t hit me where it’s visible. He makes sure it doesn’t bruise." He squeezes my hand. "So don’t worry about me, Nollie."
Nollie. That name always grips my heart like a vice.
Then the Baron’s hand clamps down on his arm, dragging him away like a broken toy. Ciel doesn’t struggle. He just keeps his eyes down.
The car door slams shut.
I’m left alone on the side of the road, holding a bouquet that smells faintly of crushed daisies, with my cheek burning where he kissed it.
He’s so fucking stupid.
**
Lanny stirs in his sleep, tiny fingers curling tighter. I brush my thumb lightly against the crib rail.
That wasn’t the only time he did something reckless for me. He used to sneak out for my birthdays too. Climb fences, barefoot, just to bring me a cupcake with a melting candle.
Every damn year.
Ciel Rosengarde has always been a storm in silk ribbons. Loud where I’m quiet. Soft where I’m hard. Brave where I’m cautious.
I never stood a chance.
And maybe, even if I lived a thousand lives, I’d fall for him every single time.
When no one else in my life put me first, Ciel always did.
I glance at Lanny again, his tiny chest rising and falling.
I guess I’m not the only one in his heart anymore. There’s Jack too.
I don’t mind. He deserves the world. He deserves more than I ever gave him.
But damn, it still hurts.
***
Jack
The first thing I feel when I open my eyes is hunger.
The second is guilt.
The third is something dangerously close to longing.
I stretch, bones popping, and fumble for my phone. 11:16 AM. I’ve been out for more than twelve hours.
No wonder my stomach feels like it’s trying to eat itself.
I peel myself off the bed, the faint ache in my chest still there — a quiet reminder of last night. I cried. I actually cried. So much for looking fucking dependable.
Some Alpha I am.
I stumble into the bathroom, splash water on my face, scrub away the remnants of salt and shame, and then head downstairs.
The kitchen smells like heaven.
There’s chicken roasting in the oven, potatoes crisping golden at the edges. The counters are neat ,which means Nolan’s been here. Ciel would’ve made a war zone out of this place.
I throw together a sandwich, pour juice into a cup, and devour it like it might escape.
Then I hear it.
Music. Soft. Playful. Something old, maybe something Ciel hummed into the speakers just to fill the silence.
And laughter.
Ciel’s laugh.
Lanny’s baby babble follows, bright and bubbling.
I follow the sound like a moth to a flame, sandwich still in hand. And when I step into the living room, I freeze.
Because there they are.
Ciel and Nolan dancing.
It’s not a real dance. It’s something awkward and ridiculous, with Nolan stiff and careful, and Ciel spinning like he’s weightless. Lanny sits in his little seat, squealing every time Ciel twirls.
They’re so close.
Ciel spins and Nolan catches him midair, strong hands at his waist, laughing despite himself.
"The big finish!" Ciel announces dramatically.
Nolan rolls his eyes but spins him anyway, dips him low — and they tumble down together in a heap of limbs and laughter.
Ever the guard dog, Nolan turns their fall, so he hits the floor first and Ciel lands safely on top of him.
"Ow," Nolan groans.
"I’m so sorry," Ciel giggles, rubbing his forehead where it bumped against Nolan’s chin. His cheeks are flushed pink, hair sticking out in curls.
It’s like something out of a cheesy romantic comedy,
it suits them.
Nolan looks at him like he hung the stars. And Ciel... Ciel looks like Nolan’s gravity.
Nolan is so fucking obvious, really.
Ciel looks at him like.
Wait.
????
No fucking away.
It’s gone in seconds, I could have sworn I imagined it.
I didn’t fucking imagine it.
Ciel makes eye contact with and, "Jack, you’re up," Ciel calls, still grinning. He scrambles up, hair falling over his forehead, cheeks flushed.
"Why hello, sunshine," I say, opening my arms.
He comes into my embrace without hesitation, ditching the doggy, wrapping his arms around my waist like he’s done it a thousand times before. His warmth seeps through me, grounding me.
Over his shoulder, Nolan stands. Our eyes meet sharp, electric.
I stick out my tongue at him. A childish, I know but I can’t help it.
He flips me the middle finger.