The Hartwell mansion came into view as the carriage rolled through the tall iron gates. It was already evening as the sky was painted in orange. Noel leaned a little out of the window to get his first breath of home air... it was fresh and annoyingly peaceful for someone with a target painted on his back.
Even though it was weird for him to call this place home, he had no other option but to accept his new life. He's too mature to cry or panic. He was busy thinking when he sighted someone.
Standing outside the door was the butler, Butler James... With his stiff posture, perfectly combed grey hair, and a face that seemed carved from stone. A clear sign that someone in this house was already angry.
Noel clicked his tongue softly.
"Great. Father must've gotten the message before I even reached home."
Rowan, seated across from him, raised a brow. "Should I be worried on your behalf?"
"No," Noel said, hopping down from the carriage with ridiculous confidence for someone about to get yelled at. "Just wait for me in my room."
Rowan frowned. "For what?"
Noel only gave him a mysterious smile.
"Just do it. You're not going to disobey me, are you?"
He didn't wait for Rowan's response. He followed the butler through the wide marble halls, admiring how shiny the floor was compared to Evelina's terrifying shrine-room.
They reached the massive double doors leading to his father's office. Butler James knocked twice.
"Master Noel has arrived, sir."
"Let him in."
The doors swung open, and Noel stepped inside.
His father stood by the window, hands clasped behind his back, staring at the gardens like they were discussing national secrets. He looked powerful in his dark navy coat, shoulders broad, hair neatly slicked back. He radiated the energy of a man who owned many things... and wanted to own more.
"Good evening, Father," Noel greeted politely. "Why did you call..."
"Why," his father snapped as he turned around sharply, "did you ask to break the engagement?"
Noel stopped.
'Oh. So we're starting with yelling. Not even tea first. Bad, father. Bad,'
"I told you," the Duke continued, stepping forward, "to go and apologise. But instead..." he jabbed a finger toward him "...you went to break it."
"Father..."
"No! Do you have any idea what kind of insult this is?! This isn't a trivial matter, Noel!"
Noel stood still. He let his father rant. Let him release every drop of anger he had been storing. Noel didn't defend himself yet... acting required timing.
And when his father finally paused to breathe, Noel sighed softly.
"Father," he said calmly, "I have two older brothers. Why am I the only one engaged? If you wanted a business partnership with the Ashford family, then why not let one of my brothers marry Lady Evelina or let one of my sisters get married to one of the Ashford triplets?"
His father's brows knitted tightly. "I can't."
"Why not?"
"The Ashford boys aren't interested in marriage," He pinched the bridge of his nose. "You know that."
"Then let Evelina choose! She can choose one of them. One of my brothers."
"She already chose you," his father shot back sharply.
He secretly rolled his eyes. He was sure her obsession had started when he attended that party a few months ago. She saw him, and she immediately decided that she wanted him like it was an auction, and he was the prize to be won.
Noel's jaw tightened. "Well, I didn't choose her."
His father blinked.
Noel took a slow breath, allowing his eyes to tremble, just a little. He thought about the bottle hitting his head. Even if it wasn't his real head. He thought about his paintings that were everywhere. The creepy devotion. He let his emotions simmer until his eyes glistened.
"Won't you... consider my feelings?" he whispered, voice wavering. "Do I matter at all?"
A single tear fell.
It didn't seem forced. Well, not entirely. He truly was suffering. Even if his suffering was yet to begin. He was just trying to be emotional.
His father stared at him. He wasn't moved enough to soften entirely, but enough for his anger to fade. Silence lingered between them.
After a long moment, he sighed.
"I'll... think about it. There's nothing we can do until we hear from the Ashford brothers."
"Right..." Noel muttered, rolling his eyes mentally at the thought of those 'minor characters.' "What can they even do to me?"
His father walked to his desk and picked up an envelope. "Before you leave."
Noel accepted it.
"This came for you... An invitation," the old man said. "A bachelor party. Your brothers will attend with you, but they'll leave early to deal with some business. While you'll be left alone there, do not cause any trouble or ruin our family name. Understood?"
"Yes, Father," Noel replied, unable to hide the spark of excitement in his eyes.
A room full of men?
His first party in this world?
He blushed slightly.
'Oh, the possibilities... I could finally find myself a boyfriend and get the dream gay sex I've ever dreamt about,'
He bowed and headed out.
.
.
Rowan stood exactly where Noel expected him... beside the door to Noel's room, arms crossed, back straight, looking like trouble wrapped in expensive clothing.
"You're here. I waited just as you wanted," Rowan said stiffly.
"Come in," Noel said, opening the door.
Rowan didn't move. "I'll stay outside."
"No," Noel said firmly. "Come. In."
Rowan blinked.
'I thought he would have changed. I guess I was wrong.'
He could remember the first time he met Noel. Noel didn't give two fucks about who Rowan was. He didn't care if Rowan was standing behind him. He would flirt, kiss and grope ladies without minding Rowan.
Rowan stepped inside, shaking the thought off his head.
The moment the door shut, Noel slipped off his coat and tossed it onto a chair. He walked to his drawer and calmly pulled it open.
Rowan watched him suspiciously.
"Strip," Noel said casually without turning around.
"I understand," Rowan said, taking off his uniform. He reached for the thick wood that was behind the bedside drawer.
Noel turned around, holding a first aid kit in one hand. He froze when he saw Rowan on his knees, with the wood in front of him.
"What are you using that for?"
"Didn't you say I should strip? Aren't you going to hit me like you always do?" Rowan questioned him and Noel walked closer, trying to understand the situation.
"Are you saying Noel... I mean, I hit you with that every day?"
Rowan's face grew colder as he glared at Noel.
"I do not understand the reason for your obvious question, Young Master Noel."
"Stand," Noel turned away from him. "And put that rod away."
"Why are you...?"
"Just do as I say!" Noel yelled and Rowan remained quiet. He stood up carefully as he put the rod away.
Rowan's jaw clenched. Hard.
He wasn't sure what was going on. It was like a regular thing for him to get hit by Noel whenever he was pissed off. But today... It was different.
After standing, he slowly revealed his hard, toned muscles that were covered in scars. There were deep lines, old wounds and fresh ones that barely healed.
Noel blinked. Then, almost dropped the kit.
'His rude attitude is definitely not my type... but his face... and his body and...' Noel's eyes dipped lower, staring at his pants and he quickly snapped his head away.
Focus. Focus. Focus.
"Sit on the bed," Noel said gently.
Rowan sat, staring forward like a soldier waiting for punishment.
Noel crawled behind him on the bed, opening the kit. His fingers trembled slightly as he touched Rowan's back. His skin was warm and solid. The muscles flexed under Noel's fingertips.
Noel swallowed hard.
He cleaned the wounds carefully, disinfecting them even as Rowan hissed once or twice. Noel bit his lip every time he felt Rowan flinch.
Rowan... suffered all this because of him. Or rather, because of the original Noel.
Each scar told a different story. No one wished to be hit. Apart from being punished by Noel's father, the original Noel also hit him.
When he finally wrapped the bandages around Rowan's torso, Noel whispered softly, "This will be... the last time you ever get hit because of me. I swear."
Rowan reached for his shirt.
"You shouldn't make careless promises," he said, voice low and cold. "Not in a world where the weak are being trampled on by the weak."
"Is it bad for me to make a promise?" Noel shrugged.
Rowan's grey eyes narrowed as he hid the anger.
"Do not make light of your situation. Every harm that comes to you is my fault. If you endanger yourself, I will be punished. It's normal for you to also channel your anger on me."
Noel's grin widened. "So... you hate me?"
"I am... highly inconvenienced by your presence," Rowan said through gritted teeth, voice low.
'Yes. Perfect.' Noel thought, licking his lips. 'He definitely hates me, just like in the film and his aura screams danger. It's the right vibes for my gay heart.'
Rowan didn't thank him or look back at Noel. He simply dressed and walked out, closing the door quietly behind him. The moment he left, Noel fell backwards onto the bed with a long exhale. His cheeks were warm, his chest tight.
He closed his eyes and Rowan's strong and scarred back flashed in his mind.
"It's all because of him... or the old me," he whispered.
His hand rested on his chest.
"I'll live differently," he murmured. "I'll change everything and just live for myself. Find a hot and rich dude who's ready to be gay for me and I'll be a good boy for him,"