Everyone is Obsessed With Me (reupload)

Chapter 23

Rayder's stares unnerved him. His gentle but cold attitude created an almost condescending air around him, making him almost unbearable to be around. He smelled of light cedarwood with a hint of sweet vanilla, a smell so prominent that it seemed to almost fill the room like a perfume. His touch was hot, like the sweltering sun, burning his skin and leaving streaks of red that looked like tiger claws.

At that very moment, Hanbal felt as though invisible teeth dug into his body, leaving him immobile and completely at his mercy. Those gentle, warm eyes felt like chains wrapping themselves around his body, locking him into place with gripping fear. This man was a mystery to him, an absolute anomaly. Not because he was secretive - although in this case, every character here has some skeletons they wish to keep hidden. But it is because in the original book, he rarely appeared; his existence was almost like a ghost of some sort. He could count on one hand the number of times Rayder had appeared, but all those times, it was short and almost fleeting.

But now, this very man who seemed like a fleeting dream is looking at him with eyes as dark as the coal in the furnace. Dimpled smile hides his sharp, poisonous tongue and dripping venom. The rough edges of his fingertips gripping his skin felt like smooth scales.

"Brother, look at this," his voice, like soft silk, startled Hanbal awake. He sat still on Rayder's thick thighs, acting as obedient as a doll. An arm was wrapped securely around his waist, the same arm that would sooner or later be his demise. He glanced over at the paper in Rayder's hands, and the dark line was lined up so neatly it seemed printed. With smooth curves dancing gently over the papyrus, making this look like a painting come to life.

Hanbal stared for a moment before cold sweat dripped down his white brows. His eyes moved from line to line, the inside of his teeth felt itchy, and the sound of his heart propelled against his chest. The writing on the paper looked foreign to him, like random scribbles flying in his peripheral vision. After spending so long here, he realised he had never once even bothered to glance at a book, let alone read it. He has been so reliant on his memory that he failed to realize that he is no longer a third-party glancing from the outside, but an actual person.

He cursed silently, his eyes reddening from the dryness. His mind raced, shuffling through his memories for anything he could use to his advantage. After a moment, he glanced up, his amber eyes sparkling with unshed tears. With an apologetic expression, he moved closer to Rayder's warm body. He was so close that he could practically feel the warm skin beneath his shirt. The man's chest was firm against his sweating palms, while the overwhelming scent continued to envelope his nose like smoke. If he were to lean any closer, he could probably feel the bulging veins pulsating throughout his body.

"Brother, I don't know how to read," Hanbal said, his tone small and light like a fleeting butterfly. He felt aggrieved, like someone who was deeply wronged but did not know how to voice it.

Rayder quirked an eyebrow, his warm smile twitching, amused at the person unraveling in front of him. He leaned against his hand, his eyes narrowing like a predator. Hanbal's heart lurched, but he kept his expression warm and mournful.

"I-I have never been taught to read," He mumbled, playing with his fingers. It wasn't a lie. Hanbal was so neglected that he had never gotten education. Everything he knew, albeit very little, was from his years of observing the people around him. Locked away in a place he wasn't wanted seemed to have stripped him of his autonomy.

His entire world was his small, closet-like room, and his teachers were the servants who treated him like a stress toy.

Rayder straightened up, his scrutinizing stare softened immensely.

"Ah, I see," He smiled and patted Hanbal's head. Dimples appeared on his cheeks as he smiled, making him look more approachable and warm. "My apologies."

Rayder cleared his throat and flicked the paper with his slender fingers. "This is a letter written by the Crown Prince before he arrived."

Hanbal kept himself from flinching, his scalp tingling at the mention of the radiating prince.

"He wants you to follow him into the palace," Rayder leaned close, so close to Hanbal that his breath seemed to tickle the fine hairs on his cheek. "What do you think?"

From the inflection of his voice, Hanbal could tell he was being tested. Rejecting a royal as a noble is incredibly insulting, yet he knew that to the Crown Prince, he was nothing more than a pet. A transient interest at best, a disposable toy at worst. To follow him means to become less of a human being.

Hanbal swallowed and leaned close, making sure his voice was as light and as pitiable as possible. His rough fingers gripped Rayder's pristine white shirt desperately.

"But Hanbal wants to be here with you," He looked up through his eyelashes, a small yet childlike smile made its way across his face. "Do you want Hanbal to leave?"

He felt Rayder's body stiffen like a rock. The once steady breathing quickened noticeably. The palm on his head dropped down. His composed expression did not falter, but the slight twitch of his lips betrayed his thoughts.

"No," Rayder bent down, his dark eyes staring deep into Hanbal. The air around them seemed to tense suffocatingly. It felt as though hundreds of arms sprang up and took hold of him. Hanbal felt that anything Rayder said would not be good. "You cannot leave."

Rayder nuzzled Hanbal's cheeks with his own. He enjoyed the soft baby fat still protruding on Hanbal's immature face. It felt like the softest silk pillows made of feathers. He thought for a moment, enjoying the flesh as his long fingers tapped the table. He felt as though if Hanbal were to leave, a part of him would leave as well.

"Don't leave," He took a breath in, enjoying the light scent of milk on Hanbal's skin. "If you leave, I do not know what I would do."