Chapter 63: Beneath the Wisteria

Chapter 63: Chapter 63: Beneath the Wisteria

Upon returning to the Zenith Department, Jeremy did not immediately head back to the Anima Department’s dormitory area but detoured toward the 24/7 food court on the commercial street. His daily routine had been turned upside down these past few days, and the massive physical drain had left his stomach growling in protest.

He bought a portion of salad, swung by a familiar coffee shop to order a Moon Spring latte, and carried his tray out to the outdoor seating area. Jeremy’s eyes casually swept past a secluded corner beneath a wisteria tree. His footsteps faltered.

The person sitting there was none other than Lucius D’Arsy—the guy who had been missing for the past five days.

Lucius wore a dark-colored shirt, his tall, imposing figure sinking deep into the shade of the dense wisteria trellis. His silver hair, washed by the fragmented moonlight, exuded a cold, distant aura that was almost oppressive.

The magic lights filtered through the leaves, casting faint, dappled shadows across the high bridge of his nose and his lowered eyelashes. Lucius’s fingertips leisurely traced the handle of a porcelain cup; his ice-blue eyes were fixed on a dry, fallen leaf in the middle of the table, his mind clearly wandering.

Jeremy smirked, rested a hand on his chin, and stood leisurely from a distance to observe for a few more seconds. He had to admit, this guy’s outward appearance when completely still was truly a masterpiece of art.

Just as Jeremy was about to turn away to find another seat, the beast-like intuition within Lucius seemed to catch his gaze. Lucius’s motion of tracing the cup handle abruptly stopped. His arrogant silver eyelashes fluttered slightly as he looked up, his freezing gaze instantly locking onto Jeremy.

Their eyes met in mid-air. Jeremy didn’t bother looking away; he stepped closer, casually pulled out the chair across from Lucius, sat down, and gave a nod of greeting. "What a coincidence."

"..."

Lucius’s brow furrowed immediately, a flash of repulsion darting through the depths of his eyes.

"?"

This reaction was fully captured by Jeremy, making him want to laugh. What kind of attitude was this? The other day in the consciousness space, he was acting crazy; today, meeting on the outside, he was putting on a sour face. Was he too lazy to even keep up the act? It truly left one speechless.

Jeremy withdrew his gaze, lazily stirring his latte, treating Lucius entirely like thin air. But just as he brought the cup to his lips, a tall, dark shadow loomed over him, blocking out all the light. As Lucius stood up, the moonlight that had been casting a silver glow over the clusters of wisteria flowers was suddenly eclipsed by his broad shoulders, casting the surrounding space into gloom.

Jeremy leaned back in his chair, lazily lifting his eyelids to cast a sharp glance at the uninvited guest.

"Earlier, you looked like you were at a funeral when you saw me. Why are you clinging to me now?" His words dripped with sarcasm, offering absolutely no courtesy.

Lucius didn’t respond immediately. He pulled the chair next to Jeremy and sat down sluggishly, his deep, hoarse voice carrying a weariness that was hard to conceal. "I didn’t."

"Is that so..." Jeremy twirled his fork, dropping a nonchalant remark: "Then let me see you smile."

He thought this provocative comment would make the guy leave in a fit of rage and embarrassment, but surprisingly, Lucius actually curled his lips and forced out a smile. The corners of his mouth traced a flawless yet soulless arc, the hint of a smile completely dying out before it ever reached his eyes. In the dim light, his azure pupils appeared even more eerie and bottomless.

Meeting that clinging, ambiguous gaze, Jeremy frowned and bluntly judged: "Forget it, drop it. It looks forced and ugly." Normally, he pretended to be obedient, but today he was suddenly acting out; it truly made Jeremy feel an itch in his heart.

The smile on Lucius’s lips vanished instantly. He spoke in a low voice, carrying a bizarre trace of stubbornness: "...Has my face lost its appeal to you?"

"?"

The abrupt leap in topic caused Jeremy’s brain to stall for a beat. What the hell was wrong with this brat? A guy nitpicking over looks with another guy? Was he an extreme lookist?

"Why aren’t you answering?" Lucius leaned in slightly, narrowing the distance between them. His sharp brow distinctly revealed his stubbornness. "Or is it... that you’ve found someone even more of an eyesore, so you’ve grown sick of this face of mine?"

By the last sentence, his tone was heavily laced with a bitter, resentful flavor, like a scorned woman: "To the point that even when I smile, you find it ugly."

"..."

The corner of Jeremy’s mouth twitched incessantly. Wait a minute... What was with this atmosphere? He felt exactly like a scumbag being interrogated by his "lover" over suspicions of cheating. They hadn’t known each other for long—on what basis was this absurd script playing out? Since when did this guy’s nerves snap?

Jeremy placed his fork down on the tray, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the table as he locked eyes with Lucius. "...Lucius, let me just ask this to be safe. You’re not bent and have a crush on me, are you?"

Truthfully, he didn’t think this madman harbored any sappy male-to-male romantic feelings for him. But Lucius’s behavior over the past few days had truly crossed the boundaries of normalcy. If he didn’t get to the bottom of it, he feared he wouldn’t be able to swallow this frustration. He might as well just lay his cards on the table and get it over with.

Faced with the direct question, Lucius froze. His pupils contracted for a split second, and his breathing hitched. Immediately after, he hastily lowered his eyes, his eyelashes hiding his fluster as he avoided Jeremy’s sharp gaze.

"...I don’t know," he mumbled in his throat.

Jeremy was utterly speechless. He didn’t bristle and retort, nor did he scold him for being presumptuous, but instead replied with "I don’t know"? How was he supposed to handle this kind of ambiguous answer?

Jeremy rubbed his temples and sighed. "Then do you hate me?"

This time, Lucius answered at the speed of light, entirely resolute without a shred of hesitation: "I hate you."

Jeremy: ?

Very well. He didn’t know if he liked him, but he definitely hated him. It seemed he had indeed been flattering himself.

Jeremy chuckled, a hint of mockery in his smile: "...Not planning to explain the reason?"

Lucius looked up, his gaze razor-sharp. "You answer my question first."

Answer what? Jeremy racked his brain to piece together the chaotic conversation from earlier and finally remembered that ridiculous question about looks. He crossed his arms and clicked his tongue. "Actually, I was just casually teasing you earlier. No matter what expression you make, in my eyes, you are always the best-looking. Satisfied?"

The remark was highly perfunctory, yet the youth opposite him twitched the corners of his lips slightly; a flash of smugness seemed to dart through the depths of his eyes.

Jeremy never expected an empty compliment to have such lethal power... What was the deal with this childish and bizarre conversation anyway? Thankfully, it was late in the dead of night. If anyone had been around, Jeremy was sure the crowd’s stares would have pierced through his back, mistaking them for flirting.

"Alright, now confess. Why do you say you hate me with your mouth, but your body sticks to me like a magnet?" Jeremy was determined to pry his mouth open.

Lucius let out a soft snort, his voice laced with self-deprecation and suppressed grievance:

"Captain, do you truly not realize it? That scent on you has clung to me tightly since the very first time we met; no matter how many times I bathe, I can’t wash it off. The person involved is the main culprit, yet remains completely oblivious. Don’t you find this ridiculously absurd?"

The corner of Jeremy’s mouth twitched. Scent? He hadn’t even settled the score about this guy’s scent clinging to him, yet Lucius was already playing the victim while being the thief?

Lucius spoke a few more sentences, his tone suddenly dropping and turning hoarse.

"...It’s not like I want to follow you around like a dog. I also find my own out-of-control state right now disgusting. But this body doesn’t listen to reason; what do you expect me to do?"

Within every word he spat out, besides extreme dissatisfaction, Jeremy also heard trembling, helplessness, and a choked-up emotion hidden beneath a facade of arrogance.

Lucius’s nearly out-of-control state, revealing his sense of grievance, made Jeremy unconsciously recall the scene in the subconscious space from a few days ago.

That guy Cyril seemed to have also worn a gloomy yet vulnerable expression exactly like this...