Hasith suddenly turned to see who it was. Standing there was Diyon. Although Hasith knew Diyon was a spoiled heir of the Gajanayaka Walawwa, they'd never officially met. Hasith tried to quickly thank him and leave, but Diyon stopped him, so Hasith let out a deep sigh and looked him in the eye.
"Why the rush, Doll? Let's talk for a bit."
"I'm really sorry, Diyon. But I'm already late."
"Oh, come on, Doll. You're a guy—try to enjoy life a little. And anyway, what made you suddenly show up at the gym? Hmm… you've got a damn sexy body. Why waste it by just working out aimlessly?"
Diyon leaned in close to Hasith's face, his hand sliding around Hasith's waist as he spoke.
Startled by the sudden closeness, Hasith shoved Diyon away. Hirunya had been standing nearby, watching the whole thing unfold, though he didn't interfere—it wasn't his place to get involved in others' personal affairs. From where he was standing, he could only see what was happening, but couldn't hear a word.
"Listen well, Diyon. I'm not your 'Doll.' And I'm not hitting the gym to flaunt a sexy body. So don't worry about me. And if you've got something to ask, just say it instead of circling around."
Hasith stood there, clearly agitated. What Hirunya had said that day had shattered Hasith's hopes. He was angry—with Hirunya, with himself. Even going to a club and drinking hadn't helped him cope. He scolded himself—for falling for someone he could never have. He came to the gym to punish himself, to sweat out the pain. Those past few days, he had pushed himself hard. And now, on top of that, Diyon showed up to stir things further—it pushed Hasith over the edge.
"Ohhh… Doll caught on quicker than I thought."
Diyon smirked, casually flipping his hair and leaning closer.
"Okay, I just want Doll for one night. If you're good, you might get more chances. Besides, don't put so much hope in Hirunya. You heard what he said that day. And let's be honest—he's more likely to talk sweetly about me than you."
At the mention of Hirunya, Hasith snapped. Diyon had clearly done his homework. Ever since seeing those coffee-colored eyes trailing behind Hirunya, Diyon wanted to own them—wanted to own their owner. And when he noticed how much Hirunya was drawn to those daisy flowers left by Hasith, his desire only grew. For Diyon, it wasn't affection—it was pure lust, a craving to possess.
"I'm not the slut you think I am. But you… you're even filthier than I imagined."
Hasith was deeply hurt. Right now, he just wanted to distance himself from everyone and let out the pain buried inside.
"Let me tell you something. Think again about whether Hirunya is really as good as you believe. You know why my sister's wedding got rushed? Because she got caught sneaking out of a club room with him."
To Hasith, it felt like his entire world collapsed. A strangled sound escaped his lips—one he hadn't even realized was building. He was completely disconnected from what was happening around him. Meanwhile, Diyon, with a crooked smile, took a wad of cash from his purse, shoved it into Hasith's hand, and while placing a hand around his waist, leaned in and kissed him.
From afar, it might have looked like something else. To someone watching, the scene could easily be misunderstood. And that's exactly what happened—Hirunya turned away in anger. Just when a small space in his heart had started forming for Hasith, this is what he saw…
Hasith suddenly snapped back to reality and pushed Diyon away with full force. Along with it, he landed a solid punch on Diyon. The money Diyon had stuffed into his hand—Hasith flung it right into his face. The blow split Diyon's lip, blood trickling down instantly.
"No matter what you do, Doll is still mine. If you don't agree to my offer, by tomorrow, everyone will know about your gender. And by the way, the way you faked things with me? Your little lover saw it all. So, you don't have any options left."
Hasith's heart felt like it stopped beating for a moment. Without waiting to hear another word from Diyon, he ran straight toward the entrance.