The Engineer (Batchelor Series #2)

24

Drakon sat in his room, his fingers gripping the edge of his study desk as he stared blankly at the scattered papers in front of him. His mind, usually sharp and organized, was a mess—swirling with thoughts he didn’t want to confront. It had been weeks now. Weeks of avoiding Renz. Weeks of dodging questions from his friends, pretending that everything was fine. But nothing was fine.

The sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows across his room, but Drakon didn’t move to turn on the light. His phone sat on the desk, silent for now, but he knew it was only a matter of time before Renz would try to reach him again. He had seen the missed calls, the unread messages, and each time he ignored them, the guilt dug deeper into his chest.

His mom, Aling Josephina, called from the kitchen, her voice faint but warm. "Pay-pay, dinner na. Come down! Nandito na lahat!"

He sighed, pushing back his chair. Even hearing his childhood nickname couldn’t shake the heaviness that clung to him. As he stood up, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror—dark circles under his eyes, his usually confident expression replaced with something uncertain. Lost.

Drakon made his way downstairs, moving slowly. The scent of his mom's home-cooked meal filled the air, but his appetite was nonexistent. He reached the kitchen and saw her plating the food. She looked up with a smile, but then her eyes softened as she noticed his mood.

"Pay-pay, something wrong?" she asked, concern evident in her voice. Her hands paused over the pot of sinigang, waiting for him to speak.

He forced a smile. “Wala, Ma. Just tired,” he said, though the words felt empty.

Before his mom could press further, there was a sudden knock on the door. Aling Josephina wiped her hands on her apron and moved to open it. Drakon, feeling a strange sense of unease, followed her with his eyes, staying seated at the kitchen table.

"Uy, ikaw pala!" His mom's voice was cheerful, tinged with familiarity.

Drakon frowned, straining to hear the conversation. The voice that responded made his heart skip a beat.

"Magandang gabi po, Aling Josephina. Si Drakon po ba nandiyan?" It was Renz, his tone polite but strained, like he was barely keeping his temper in check.

Drakon’s stomach flipped, his hands clenching into fists on the table. What the hell is he doing here?

Aling Josephina chuckled. "Naku, Renz! Ikaw pala. You want kakanin? I’m about to make a new batch."

Renz laughed softly, but it sounded forced. "Hindi na po, pero salamat. I really need to talk to Drakon."

His mom turned toward the kitchen, calling out. "Pay-pay! Renz is here to see you!"

Drakon froze in his seat, his chest tightening as panic rose. He had been avoiding this exact moment—avoiding Renz, avoiding the confrontation that was clearly brewing. But there was no escape now. His hands were shaking as he stood up, taking a deep breath to steady himself.

Renz appeared at the doorway, his usual playful expression replaced by something much darker. His jaw was clenched, eyes sharp with frustration. He wasn’t smiling.

"Drakon," Renz’s voice was low, dangerously calm. "We need to talk. Now."

Aling Josephina, sensing the tension, glanced between them before stepping out of the kitchen. "I’ll leave you boys to it," she said gently, giving Drakon a soft pat on the shoulder before disappearing into the living room.

Silence fell over the kitchen, thick and suffocating. Drakon avoided Renz's gaze, keeping his eyes on the floor as he stood awkwardly by the table. His heart pounded in his chest, the tension almost unbearable.

Renz stepped closer, his voice tight with barely controlled anger. "What the hell is going on, Drakon?"

Drakon flinched at the tone. He had never seen Renz this angry, this intense. He swallowed hard, his throat dry. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered, still refusing to meet Renz’s eyes.

"Stop lying," Renz snapped, his patience clearly at its end. He took another step closer, and Drakon finally looked up, meeting his gaze for the first time in what felt like forever. The frustration, the hurt—it was all there in Renz’s eyes, and it hit Drakon like a punch to the gut.

"Tell me why you've been avoiding me," Renz demanded. "After everything—after that night—" He stopped, his voice faltering for a moment. Then he took a deep breath and continued, quieter now but still intense. "I thought we were friends, Drakon. What changed?"

Drakon’s chest tightened, the weight of everything pressing down on him. He opened his mouth to respond, but the words caught in his throat. How could he explain it? How could he explain the confusion, the doubt, the fear that had been eating away at him since that kiss?

"I just…" he started, but his voice cracked. He took a shaky breath, forcing himself to speak. "I don’t know what to say."

Renz’s expression softened just a fraction, but the anger was still there, simmering beneath the surface. "You kissed me," he said, the words hanging heavily in the air. "And now you’re pretending like it never happened."

Drakon winced at the reminder. He had been trying to bury that memory, but hearing Renz say it out loud brought everything back. The heat of the moment, the confusion, the overwhelming rush of emotions. He clenched his fists, feeling the shame creeping up his spine.

"I didn’t mean to…" Drakon whispered, his voice barely audible. "I just… I don’t know what’s happening."

Renz stared at him for a long moment, the anger slowly fading into something more complicated. "Look," he said, his voice gentler now, "I don’t care what that kiss meant, or if you’re confused. But you can’t just run away from me like this. You can’t act like I don’t exist."

Drakon’s chest tightened again, the guilt gnawing at him. He glanced away, unable to face Renz’s intense gaze any longer. "I just need time," he murmured, his voice hoarse. "I need to figure things out."

Renz was silent for a moment, then he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Fine," he said quietly. "Take your time. But don’t shut me out, Drakon. I deserve better than that."

Drakon nodded, unable to say anything more. The weight of Renz’s words hung heavy in the air between them, and for the first time in weeks, Drakon felt the slightest crack in the wall he had built around himself.