Days later...
At the far end of the ship, away from prying eyes and the bustle of the crew, Bibi followed Ethan with hesitant steps, curiosity and a spark of excitement lighting his gaze.
He glanced over, his voice low and uncertain. "Where are we going?"
Ethan only looked back, a sly smile playing on his lips. “Just trust me. You’ll see.”
They stopped at a quiet corner, facing a locked door. Ethan produced a worn-out key, unlocking it with a sense of purpose, then ushered Bibi inside before shutting the door tightly behind them.
The room was small, dimly lit, and filled with large, weathered wooden chests stacked against the walls, exuding the faint scent of old paper and aged leather.
Ethan gave Bibi a mysterious look before nodding toward one of the chests. “Go ahead. Open it.”
Bibi hesitated, heart thudding as he lifted the lid, revealing the contents inside: stacks of books, novels of all kinds but mostly love stories, their pages worn and yellowed with time.
He stared in awe, running his fingers over the spines before looking up at Ethan, gratitude and disbelief mixing in his gaze.
“This… this is for me?” he whispered, his voice thick with wonder.
Ethan nodded, reaching out to ruffle Bibi’s hair. “You told me once how much you loved books. I thought you’d appreciate them.”
Bibi’s smile faded slightly as guilt crept into his expression. “But… you shouldn’t have, young ma—”
Ethan cut him off with a firm look, his voice low but insistent. “No. Don’t call me that. I’m not your master. I’m your friend. Call me by my name.”
Bibi hesitated, the words foreign yet intimate on his tongue. “Ethan,” he murmured softly, but Ethan shook his head, a slight smile dancing on his lips.
“No, not that. My native name,” he insisted, his gaze intense.
The tension in the room thickened as Bibi’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Kazi,” he said, the name slipping out with a mix of hesitation and something far deeper.
Kazi’s breath caught. Hearing Bibi say his name like that stirred something he hadn’t expected.
He could feel a heat rising to his face, and he quickly looked away, wishing his skin was dark enough to hide the blush spreading across his cheeks.
Bibi, too, seemed to sense the shift, turning back to the chest, his hands shaking slightly as he picked up a small, worn navy-blue book with no title.
Bibi’s eyes narrowed as he flipped through its pages. It was a love story—like the others, but with a difference. The protagonists were two men, their story of longing and desire leaping from the pages, raw and forbidden.
As Bibi glanced up in shock, he found Kazi’s face inches from his own, the boy’s eyes heavy-lidded and fixed on his.
Without thinking, Kazi leaned forward, his breath warm and quickening, and pressed his lips softly to Bibi’s.
The kiss was brief but intense, and as Kazi pulled back, a flicker of panic crossed his face. “I… I’m sorry,” he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t mean…”
But Bibi silenced him with a smoldering look, his hands gripping Kazi’s shoulders before he pulled him closer, lips meeting his with a fierce, unrestrained passion.
YOU ARE READING
The Outcast's Rebirth
Ficção HistóricaIn a world bound by tradition and haunted by ancient secrets, Keith is reborn into a body that feels like both a gift and a curse. Once an ordinary student in his past life, he now possesses unusual features and powers that set him apart-and place...
