Hypernova : A Sequel to Supernova

Episode 6.2 -What Are These Feelings?

The steam from the dumplings curled in lazy spirals, mingling with the faint aroma of garlic and soy that hung in the air. Jorah sat across from Nine, his gaze drifting from the plate to the Nine's face. He tried to focus on his own dumpling, but each bite felt insignificant compared to the way Nine's lips curled around his food, drawing it in with an effortless grace that seemed to slow time.

Adorable. The word blazed in Jorah's mind, more vivid than the ambient noise of sizzling from the kitchen. But "adorable" didn't quite capture it. There was a warmth emanating from Nine, an inviting glow that tugged at something buried deep within Jorah. It was in the way Nine's eyes became like crescents with each smile,  sparkling as he savored the flavors, as if he were discovering them for the first time.

Jorah realized he'd been staring, dumpling poised just shy of his mouth. He swallowed hard, a rush of warmth flooding his cheeks as if he'd just sprinted a mile. Was this attraction? The thought crashed over him like a wave, sweeping away the certainty of his past experiences. He couldn't remember looking at a man like this before or feeling that flutter in his chest while watching someone simply enjoy a meal. But it was more than just Nine's undeniable handsomeness; there was this magnetism about him even when he was doing the mundane, a pull  that made Jorah feel as if he'd found a vital piece of himself.

"Are you going to eat, or will you keep staring at me?" Nine's voice sliced through Jorah's reverie, iciness lacing his words.

Jorah blinked and cleared his throat, the  frost in Nine's tone snapping him back to reality. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to stare. It's just—you're really attractive." The weight of his honesty hung in the air, and he tried to lighten the mood. "But I'm sure you already know that."

Nine froze, his chopsticks poised mid-air. He had been carefully avoiding Jorah's gaze throughout dinner, but now he raised his eyes, meeting Jorah's earnest stare. His chest tightened.

"Uh... thank you for the food," Nine said, setting down his chopsticks. "I'm full. I think I should go."

Jorah glanced at his watch. "Do you have a bedtime?" he teased, trying to defuse the tension.

"Wha-?" Nine was taken aback. He cleared his throat. "I— I've got things. Stuff I need to do." He tripped over his words in an attempt to explain himself.

Jorah's smile softened, and he nodded. "I see." He signaled for the waiter and paid the bill with casual efficiency. "I'll take you home."

"No, that's not—" Nine shook his head, heat rising to his face. "I can go by myself. It's fine."

Jorah's eyebrow lifted, his tone almost playful. "Always this stubborn, or do you really hate my company that much?"

Yes. Nine screamed internally. Yes I really do hate your company this much. I don't want to spend another second with you.

Outwardly, his voice was quiet as he muttered, "I don't want to inconvenience you.I know you're busy."

"I've cleared my evening." Jorah's casual response felt weighty, especially since Nine recalled how easily Jorah had brushed aside his own commitments earlier. "Besides," Jorah added with a glint in his eye, "I invited you out. I should see you home. It's my responsibility."

The retort formed on Nine's lips but faltered before it could escape. Why wasn't Jorah taking the hint? Why didn't he understant that he'd wanted nothing to do with him since that day, and yet... spending the last hour with him had stirred something unsettling, something he'd wished day after day would die? Why did it feel like old wounds were reopening, but not as deep as he remembered?

Was this a new form of torture?

Nine bit back a sigh. There was no point in arguing. Once Jorah set his mind on something, it was like trying to fight the tide. The quickest way through this was to endure it.