𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐲'𝐬 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 || 敵の旦那様 (𝐁𝐋) ✔ [COMPLETE]

40. A throb

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As Fu Lin returned and slouched on the Zhou Manor couch, the dusky weather roiled about in a warm emulsion and clung to the already hotly fastened cloak of his, infused with sweat.

Irritated by the sudden burning sensation, he removed the alabaster coat and threw it on the wooden table before the couch.

The cloak dangling lifelessly caught his eye as the startlingly dark ink patch splattered on it. It was like the stain of black blood on the sheepskin, both discomfiting and irresistible to the eye.

The stain that occurred when an ink bottle was strewn at him. The stain occurred by the General.

At the beginning, the 'idea' was like a fleeting form of a feather in the sky, its existence ignorable and presence invisible. It was fluttering and aimless; visible when one wants to and disappearing the next. However, with time, this baseless idea came to life, with sharp edges and bearing greater weight than it used. Even something as trifling as a feather, if constantly flies, can come to light in the darkness of the night. This idea that had been bothering Fu Lin for quite a while now had reached its conclusion.

He was sure of it now. General Haoran liked him. Romantically.

He couldn't recall the time when he'd begun to notice these things vividly because as long as Fu Lin could remember, all he did was run away at the very sight of the man. But the difference was that while earlier the General was the one who made him run, later it was Fu Lin running away by himself. That was all he knew before the idea that the General might like him ignited in his mind.

The truth was, Fu Lin had always been perceptive in the matters of romance and sexual affairs. Courtship and romantic skill were a political strategy in the grand scheme of royalty and to not know a thing or two about them was deemed sympathetic at best and at worst could cost your life. This was the inherent difference between a prince–a royal descendant who had every aspect of his life dictated by politics and a General who had washed his hands off of ugly politics; their difference in romantic expertise.

Fu Lin was trained to note every curl in the lip of a prominent minister's daughter and respond to the sparkle in her eye. He could sense romantic attraction towards him a mile away and understand what the slightest blush in a person meant. Given this background, if he were still unable to distinguish what was blatantly right there in front of him–the General's intentions–he was truly an irredeemable fool.

Looking back on it now, Fu Lin contemplated as he lay reclined on the couch, the idea must have lurked in his mind somewhere when the General began chasing after him earnestly and said that he 'didn't hate him' and wanted to be friends with him. Fu Lin was a member of the Silver Mountains and even if the General had no hatred towards him, surely there was no need to be friends given their stance as enemy prince and enemy General? Unless... he had some form of emotion strong enough to overpower the fact that Fu Lin was an enemy.

Fu Lin sighed. Just the idea that somebody mighty and magnificent like the General would fall for the likes of him was so preposterous that he quickly killed the thought. Nonsensical. Foolish. Delusional... was what he presumed until the late General's death day came.

That day, even when he took the initiative to hug the General he felt no difference. Until the General himself put his arms around him and returned the hug. Then Fu Lin's ears picked up the sound, loud and clear.

Badump. Badump. Badump.

The sound of his heartbeat pattering against his chest, thrice the speed and impact than a regular pulse. Fu Lin's first thought then had been to check whether the General was undergoing some kind of medical condition due to excessive grief, but then he felt it. The General was inhaling his scent, laying on his shoulder as his hands pressed against Fu Lin's sides. From those palms channelled a current of hotness, a sensation Fu Lin was not a stranger towards but never knew in such intensity.

Desire.

A hot ravaging sense of desire, something Fu Lin hadn't felt for a long time, had been projected at him by the General. He could no longer ignore the matter thinking 'No way would the General come to adore a skinned piece of badger like me' and sleep it off. Hence decided to test his assumption. While he noticed typical slight giveaways like the General's random gaze and rosy ears, the man had upped and disappeared before he could confirm his suspicions.

His trip to the camp had been for this reason. To test his idea. Even his provocative dress, with almost everything on the display, was a deliberate ploy on his part. He wanted to see how the General would react.

And his actions were not out of expected bounds. In fact, Fu Lin was very aware of the fact that had he not turned his face away right at the given moment, General Haoran would have definitely kissed him. And that was the last thing he wanted right now. A kiss then would mean a rapid confrontation of the General's inner feelings and Fu Lin didn't want such feelings pronounced.

The General liked him. Unbelievably so. And his stance was clear.

But so was Fu Lin's stance; no matter what happens, one thing cannot alter. And that was his fortitude as the seventh prince of the Silver Mountain.

"Etch this in your grave and inscribe this within your flesh by draining your blood." The grand insignia of the silver mountain flag flew behind the Emperor regally as he had said, "They have bathed in the glory of your peers' slaughter and sent your legless comrades back. They have reduced your beloveds into carcasses and loathed the existence of your kith and kin. They are the Blazing Sun! The mortal and karmic enemy of the Silver Mountain. And so remember," he paused and continued "To be a Silver Mountaineer is to hate the Blazing Sun and to be a Blazing Sun is to hate the Silver Mountain. And if anybody finds within themselves to love the enemy...

...your heart doesn't deserve its next beat. Take out your sword and drive it through that treacherous body part."

To love one of the Blazing Sun was as bad as stabbing the Emperor of the Silver Mountains with a poisoned arrow. Fu Lin was imminently aware of this countenance and had never intended to go against this equilibrium.

Betrayal, even mentally, wasn't an option to him. Hence, this new discovery of the General's feelings had changed nothing within him.

And yet, as he fell asleep, Fu Lin felt a strange weight of a throb settle between his ribs.

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Hahahaha ┬┴┬┴┤( ͡° ͜ʖ├┬┴┬┴ I got ya'll huh 

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