Alan stood in front of his new home, side by side with his husband, feeling an overwhelming sense of bliss. The thought of finally being part of Lucas's life made him feel as though he was living a dream. It was hard to believe that his lifelong wish of sharing a home with the man he loved had actually come true.
"Mind moving inside, brat?" Lucas said, irritation evident as he watched Alan, who was lost in admiration of their new home. Without waiting, Lucas walked in. Despite his annoyance, he felt a strange satisfaction seeing Alan's delighted expression.
"Lucas, wait for me!" Alan whined, hurrying after his husband.
"Beautiful!" Alan exclaimed, his eyes widening as he entered the living room. He was enamored with the cozy space that felt warm, inviting, and comforting. Lucas, watching from the doorway, felt a quiet contentment. He had designed the home with Alan's preferences in mind, hoping to make it a place of happiness for the boy who had forced himself into his life—no, for the person he loved, even if he refused to acknowledge it.
"Alan, this is the kitchen and dining area," Lucas said, guiding him through the house. Alan followed like an eager puppy, happily humming. The kitchen was a mix of charcoal and dark brown, spacious and well-appointed. The dining area featured black and brown tones, exuding a sophisticated yet homey feel. Alan's face lit up as he took in their new home, imagining it as his sanctuary for the rest of his life—a sweet haven with the man he adored.
"This is your room. Feel free to let me know if you want any changes," Lucas said, opening one of the doors on the second floor.
"Mine…?" Alan asked, his voice trembling as he looked around the room. The setup was unfamiliar, and his expression quickly turned from excitement to shock and dismay.
"Lucas, are we staying in separate rooms?!" Alan's voice quivered with fear. The joy he had felt moments ago evaporated, leaving him gasping for breath. His happiness shattered like fragile glass.
"… Yes…" Lucas replied, his face darkening. He was pained by Alan's distress, knowing the reason behind the separation was rooted in his own emotional wounds. He didn't want to face Alan—the boy who reminded him of everything he had lost, of emotions he had long buried.
"Lucas, can't I stay in your room?" Alan pleaded, his eyes filled with desperation. He yearned for a normal married life, hoping—just hoping—that his husband might soften and let him stay.
"… We can't. I don't want to see your face all the time," Lucas said bluntly, offering no room for discussion. Despite his harsh words, a pang of guilt gnawed at his heart as he saw the crushed hope in Alan's eyes.
"We're married. We're supposed to stay together for our whole lives. How can you ask me to stay away from my husband?!" Alan cried out, tears streaming down his face, soaking his cheeks. The pain was unbearable, and his fragile heart felt as if it was being torn apart.
"I never wanted to be your husband, Alan. Why didn't you find a better match? Was it me who forced you into this marriage? Haven't I told you not to expect anything from it? Why are you causing trouble again? Can't you let me rest for at least one day?!" Lucas's voice was filled with long-suppressed pain, his words breaking Alan's heart into pieces.
"… I know what I did was wrong, but I love you. I just want a little attention from you. I just want you to look at me, even for a moment. Am I wrong to expect a little affection?" Alan sobbed, clinging to Lucas's hands. His tears made Lucas feel suffocated, making him struggle against emotions he didn't want to face.
"Do I have to love you just because you love me? Can't I choose my own feelings? You're making me sick, Alan!" Lucas snapped, his voice sharp with frustration. He despised the kind of love that stole away a person's freedom, and he hated Alan for forcing this fate upon him.
Alan stood speechless, his heart aching with a deep sense of remorse. He didn't know what to say or do to stop pushing Lucas further away. The weight of his past actions pressed heavily on him, and he regretted everything—everything except his hopeless love for Lucas. Each of Lucas's words was like a knife slicing through his heart, leaving him lost and utterly broken.
Lucas, overwhelmed by the sight of Alan's tears, felt his own heart ache in an unfamiliar way. He couldn't bear to see Alan so devastated. Despite his anger, despite his resentment, he still felt something—something he couldn't yet name. He missed Alan's bright smile, the way he used to cling to him with warmth and affection. Deep down, a part of him longed for that tenderness again. But he refused to accept it.
Unable to bear the sight of Alan's tears any longer, Lucas turned and left the room, his heart throbbing with frustration and sorrow. He didn't understand why Alan's pain affected him so much. Was pushing him away really the right choice? Or was it only making everything worse?