The sound of the door hissing shut was not merely the closing of a door, but the slamming down of a final, heavy verdict. It echoed the silent rejection that had just been delivered, sealing Ren in the luxurious, but ultimately isolating, cage Axton had created for him.
He remained on the bed, the sheet clutched tight, feeling the fading heat of Axton's body beside him.
The intimacy of their conversation—the whispered accusation, the fumbled confession, the desperate kiss—now seemed grotesque, a cruel joke played in the aftermath of violence.
'I'm just obsessed with you because you're my lifeline,' Axton's voice, harsh and devoid of conviction, rang in his ears. 'If your genes were to be affected... I would discard you like the trash you are.'
