Mick finished cleaning the last shelf and let out an exhausted sigh. He turned to Rhyle, his frustration boiling over. “I’m done here.”
Rhyle, who had been leaning against his desk watching Mick work, smirked. “Done? Oh no, there’s still some more work to be done.”
Mick’s jaw clenched. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered under his breath. He was beyond tired, his muscles aching from the unfamiliar effort.
“Have a seat,” Rhyle gestured to the sofa against the far wall. “Wait there.”
Mick, barely holding back his frustration, collapsed onto the sofa, rubbing his temples. He couldn’t believe this was his life now—being bossed around by someone like Rhyle.
Rhyle left the room without another word, and Mick leaned back, closing his eyes for just a moment. The room was quiet, and before long, the exhaustion of the day started to take over.
When Rhyle returned, he held a cup of coffee in one hand and a bouquet of flowers in the other, his smirk returning as he approached Mick. “A little gift for your first day as my servant,” he whispered, fully intending to tease him further. But as he got closer, he stopped.
Mick was sound asleep on the sofa, his small frame curled up, breathing softly. Rhyle blinked, momentarily taken aback. For the first time, the frustration and defiance Mick usually wore on his face were gone, replaced by a rare, peaceful expression.
Rhyle stepped closer, studying Mick’s features. His usually sharp and calculating gaze softened, something stirring inside him that he couldn’t quite explain. He set the coffee and flowers down on the table and knelt beside the sofa.
He reached out, hesitating for a moment before gently placing his coat over Mick’s sleeping body. The weight of the fabric settled lightly across Mick, and Rhyle stayed there for a few moments longer, simply watching him.
There was something about the way Mick slept—so vulnerable and innocent—that stirred something deep within Rhyle. He had never felt this way before. He wasn’t sure what it was, but for the first time, he wasn’t thinking about control or power. He was just...watching.
Rhyle stood up, backing away slowly, his eyes never leaving Mick. A quiet, unspoken feeling settled in the room, and Rhyle found himself almost reluctant to disturb the peaceful moment.
“Sleep well, little rabbit,” he whispered to himself, his usual smirk absent as he continued to watch over Mick.
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*Author's pov*
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Broken promises
Romance**Description:** Mick Williams, a boy blessed with both looks and talent, lives under the shadow of his father's disdain. Despite being adore by everyone for his kind heart and gentle nature, he is haunted by the guilt placed upon him by his father...
