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Chapter 2 - No one is allowed to stand between us

After reaching the cafeteria, Eiran went ahead to find an empty table while Valerian went to fetch their lunch.

It hadn't even been two minutes since Eiran sat down when Kael appeared and dropped into the seat beside him.

"May I?"

"Pretending to be polite, are we?" Eiran scoffed, tapping Kael's forehead with his index finger. "You're already here anyway. Just eat."

"Haha, look at your face." Kael laughed loudly, pointing at him. "You really don't appreciate my presence. It's painfully obvious."

"I'm glad you're self-aware."

"I still won't change my seat, though."

"Whatever—"

"Ran, I bought ice cream—oh."

Eiran's words were cut off as Valerian stopped beside the table, his gaze flicking briefly to Kael.

"Kael is here too?"

"I was just passing by," Kael said cheerfully, tilting his head toward Valerian. "Ran was here, so I decided to join you guys."

Valerian hummed softly. "Alright. But I didn't bring extra food—" He lifted the two plates in his hands. "This won't be enough for three."

"I can share mine with h—"

"No!"

Valerian cut him off sharply, making both boys freeze.

"Calm down, man," Kael said with an awkward wave of his hand. "I wasn't planning to eat anyway."

"That's not what I meant." Valerian paused, then looked at Kael meaningfully before continuing. "You can get your own plate. Or I can bring it for you. Either way, it's not a problem."

Eiran finally came back to his senses, still somewhat dumbfounded by the sudden tension. "Ah... yeah. Eat with us, Kael."

"Next time, Ran. I really have something important to do." Kael winked at Eiran discreetly before adding, "Didn't you have something to talk about with Valerian?"

Valerian turned to Eiran the moment he heard that.

"What is it, Ran?" he asked calmly. "Did you want to ask me something?"

Eiran was completely at a loss for words.

How did a simple lunch turn into an impromptu interrogation?

He sighed inwardly.

"Well, we'll talk in class," Kael said suddenly. "I've gotta go."

Before either of them could reply, he bolted off without a second glance.

Valerian's gaze never left Eiran, patient and attentive, waiting for him to speak.

Eiran hesitated for a few seconds.

"I... I heard your father came to the school earlier..."

Valerian looked at him, confused.

"My dad? Here? Why?"

"I don't know," Eiran said quietly. "I just heard he came and picked Elera up."

He lowered his head, avoiding eye contact.

Valerian frowned but didn't respond right away.

"Maybe your uncle asked him to pick her up," he said at last, ruffling Eiran's hair gently. "Let's not think too much about it. Eat while the food's still hot—your ice cream is melting too."

"Yeah... I thought so too."

Eiran picked up his chopsticks, and the two of them finally began to eat.

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After lunch, nothing really changed. They sat through back-to-back classes once again, and by the time the day ended, everyone simply went home.

Now, Eiran was lying on his bed, phone held loosely in his hand as he chatted with Kael.

Kael: I really didn't notice anything like that, Ran!

Ran: But he really seemed distant! You're just too blind to see it!

Kael: Me? Blind? If I'm blind, then you're blind in love.

Eiran sighed, clearly irritated by the message—yet Kael's last words lingered in his mind.

Lately... he had been overthinking more than usual.

Ran: I'm not.

Kael: You are.

Just as he was about to deny it again, Eiran paused. He stared at the screen for a long moment, then deleted the words he had typed and sent a new message instead.

Ran: I... actually want to ask you something.

Kael: What is it? Say it already.

He hesitated, fingers hovering over the keyboard.

Ran: Do you think Vale really loves me back? I mean—we're not even sure if he's into men. I know I've asked you this before, but I can't stop thinking... what if I misunderstood everything?

Kael replied almost instantly.

Kael: You're overthinking again, Ran. If he didn't have feelings for you, then there probably wouldn't be anyone he's ever had feelings for. He is painfully obvious, man!

Eiran clenched his fingers around his phone and took a slow, deep breath. He felt drained-mentally, emotionally.

Ran: Let's talk tomorrow. I still need to review a few notes. Exams are only a week away.

Kael: Yeah. Don't stay up too late.

With that, they said their goodbyes and went offline.

Eiran placed his phone beside him and stared up at the ceiling, his thoughts refusing to quiet down.

As Kael had said—Valerian was, indeed, far too obvious.

And yet, he had never spoken a single word about Eiran to anyone else.

Even when Eiran came out of the closet, Valerian's reaction had been restrained. He asked only one question—whether there was someone Eiran liked—and nothing more. No reassurance. No confession. Just silence.

His mother had asked too, but Eiran had been too nervous to answer. He chose to hide it for the time being.

That was when Valerian stopped talking to him for almost a week—the longest they had ever been apart.

Eiran remembered how suffocating those days had felt. The silence pressed down on his chest until even breathing became difficult. When he finally gathered the courage to ask Valerian why, the answer came simply:

He was angry.

Angry that Eiran hadn't told him sooner.

But Valerian himself hadn't come out to his family yet.

He might not even like men...

And his family was... traditional. Like most old aristocratic households, they valued bloodlines, reputation, and appearances above all else.

Eiran knew this better than anyone.

His own family had opposed him at first too. It was only after he declared that he had no interest in inheriting the family business that they finally backed off—reluctantly. Even then, he and his mother had moved out, choosing distance over constant conflict.

He had left behind family assets for the sake of love.

But Valerian—

Even if Valerian loved him back...

Could he do the same, if it ever came to that?

The answer wasn't something Eiran could confidently claim.

And that uncertainty lingered-heavy, unresolved.

Just as Eiran sat at home, lost in his thoughts, a few kilometers away—

In the grand hall of a magnificent mansion, its architecture precise and meticulously ornate, two men stood facing each other, voices raised.

"Vale," one of them said, his tone firm but pleading. "Listen to me, alright?"

Valerian's eyes hardened.

"What do you think you're doing, Dad?" His voice sharpened. "You went to my school—seriously?"

His father sighed. "I'm doing this for your own good. First, sit down, okay?" He gestured toward the sofa nearby. "This engagement is really—"

"What engagement?" Valerian cut in. His voice dropped, trembling with restrained fury. "I've told you countless times already—I won't marry her. Or any other woman."

His father's composure cracked.

"Is it my fault?" he snapped. "Didn't I tell you to keep your distance when that boy came out publicly?" His voice rose. "People are talking about you—about how you're always with him. Some are even saying that you might also—"

He stopped, unable—or unwilling—to finish the sentence.

Valerian stared at him coldly.

"What?" he asked. "You can't even imagine your son being into men?"

His father took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down.

"If it were anyone else, I would've let you fool around for a while," he said tightly. "But the Caelwyn family isn't something you can casually mess with. Even if they don't care about that mother-and-son pair, it would be disastrous if people found out you're involved with your fiancée's cousin."

That was the last straw.

"Ran is the last person I would ever play around with," Valerian said, his voice shaking with anger. "And who said I'm entangled with both?" His eyes burned. "He's the only one I could ever be entangled with. If not him—then I might as well die alone."

His father let out another weary sigh, muttering under his breath—but loud enough for Valerian to hear.

"I really don't understand... Is it that hard to raise a child properly alone?"

He scoffed bitterly. "How could Mila let him turn out like this? But then again—what else should I expect from the friend of that woman?"

His voice hardened. "She can't even distinguish right from wrong."

Valerian let out a mocking scoff.

"You have no right to say a single word about Aunt Mila," he said coldly. "She's a hundred—no, a thousand times better than a man who forces his own son into marriage, just to make him endure the same suffering he went through himself."

A bitter laugh slipped from his lips.

"Tell me—Mr. Delaire," he asked softly, eyes sharp with contempt,

"is it fun?"

For a moment, his father was at a loss for words. Then he finally managed to speak, his voice strained.

"You wouldn't understand," he said stiffly. "I'm doing this for your own good. I—"

Valerian didn't wait for him to finish.

He turned his back without another glance, his steps unhurried, almost lazy—as if the man behind him no longer mattered.

The echo of his footsteps faded through the grand hall.

And he never looked back.

It wasn't that Valerian hated his father.

He loved him. Respected him, even—at least for the man he once believed him to be.

But there was one line that could never be crossed.

No one was allowed to stand between him and Eiran.

And no one had the right to disrespect Aunt Mila—she was his only mother figure in this world.

Not his family.

Not tradition.

Not even his father.

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