The room fell into a heavy, thoughtful silence. The moonlight through the window caught the sharp lines of Arm's profile as he looked down at Mild, his expression unreadable.
"You accepted being with Mike," Arm said suddenly, his voice low and raspy. "You were willing to be his in front of the whole world to 'save' me. So... if you could do it for him, could you accept being in a relationship with me?"
Mild blinked, genuinely stunned. He looked at Arm—at the perfect jawline, the intense eyes, and the sheer power radiating from him even in his pajamas. Mild was well aware of his own looks; he knew his features were striking and often drew unwanted attention. But Arm was on another level. He was the "Ice King," a god of industry and school alike.
"I don't understand," Mild whispered. "Why would you want that? Are you just amused by me? Or is this just another way to win a game against Mike?"
