[Leif's Pov—Hot Spring—Continuation]
HOW CAN HE WALK WITH SUCH A BIG MONSTER—THE ONE PEOPLE CALLED A DICK?!
I trembled so hard my knees nearly gave out. My eyes? They rolled right out of my skull. SPLASH—into the water. My brain? It launched into orbit, probably sipping wine with the stars by now.
Because today… today I had seen a monster. And it was attached to Alvar Ragnulfsson.
He blinked at me casually, as if parading around with that obscene weapon wasn't a war crime. The audacity. The arrogance. The sheer criminal magnitude.
"What's wrong with you?" he asked, voice bored, flaunting every sculpted line of his body like it was his second job.
"I—I lost my sanity," I muttered, clutching my head.
He tilted his head, looking more annoyed than concerned. "I don't understand what you're saying."
And then—
SPLASH—!!!!
My brain rebooted like a broken magical crystal. I slapped my palms over my face to protect what was left of my innocence. But my fingers? Betrayers. They parted on their own, desperate to sneak another peek at the spectacle of sin.
Alvar Ragnulfsson—Grand Duke, certified iceberg, professional meanie—was now stepping into the hot spring like some sculpted god fallen from heaven, dragging steam and lust behind him like a crown. The hot mist clung to his skin, rolling over every muscle, paying taxes to him as if even vapor had to show respect.
"This is harassment," I whispered to myself, shoving the last crumbs of pastry into my mouth like sugar could shield my soul. "This is visual assault. I am under attack."
Alvar's sigh drifted across the steam. "And who's attacking you?"
I jabbed a trembling finger at him. "YOU!!!"
His brows furrowed, a deep, annoyed canyon between them. "And how exactly am I attacking you?"
I crunched a macaron like it was the last defense of my dignity. "I told you… my rainbow baby wakes up when I see hot men…"
He just blinked. So I fwipped my hand at him dramatically. "AND YOU—Grand Duke, Mr. Iceberg—YOU'RE SEDUCING ME IN BROAD DAYLIGHT. HAVE SOME SHAME!"
Silence.
He leaned against the edge of the spring, water trailing down his jaw like liquid sin, and sighed. "I won't force you to go back to the capital, Leif. Just… stop pretending you like men. You don't need to lie."
I froze. My jaw almost cracked on my macaron. "You… think I'm lying?"
He scoffed with infuriating confidence. "Isn't it obvious?"
Oh. Ohhh. So that's why this glacier wasn't leaving me alone? He thought my gayness was a scam?!
I dragged my hands through my hair with a long-suffering sigh. "It wasn't a lie, Grand Duke. I… I really like men."
His eyes narrowed. He looked like he was already exhausted by my existence. "Leif—"
"It's not my concern whether you believe me or not," I cut him off, glaring back. "But I like men. That won't change the fact."
I looked away, heat crawling up my ears. "I like their bodies. Their muscles. Their chests…" My voice betrayed me, cracking into a whisper. "…And I… I like kissing them."
Silence.
The kind of silence that makes you realize you've just thrown yourself off a cliff with no wings. When I dared glance at him, Alvar was already moving. Slow. Deliberate and Pissed.
My stomach plummeted. My pulse skittered like a drunk rabbit doing cartwheels.
"W-why are you coming closer?!" I squeaked, shuffling back until my spine smacked the rock wall with a thunk.
He didn't answer. Of course he didn't. He just kept advancing, the water rippling around him like it belonged to him. Until both hands slapped against the rock beside my head, caging me in like some medieval tax collector.
"So…" His voice dropped, smooth enough to make stone melt. "…you like kissing men, huh?"
I swallowed. Loudly. "Y-yes."
His face dipped lower. Closer. His breath brushed my cheek, hot enough to fry fish.
"Then…" His lips hovered just above mine. "...let me believe it."
My brain short-circuited. "W-WHAT?! Hey! Are you harassing me right now?!"
His eyes narrowed, cold as frostbite. "I want you to prove it, Lief."
"W-what?"
"Kiss me. Or admit you're lying."
Panic surged. I shoved at his chest, but it was like shoving a wall made of smug arrogance and muscles. "T-This is ridiculous! Let me go!"
He smirked—the kind of smirk that deserves its own execution decree. "See? I knew you were lying."
And just like that, he pulled away. Fingers sliding through wet hair, water dripping down the sharp line of his jaw, like some blasted painting. "Next time… think before you lie, Leif. Or at least make it convincing."
My blood boiled. My pride cracked like dry firewood.
Oh. Ohhh, so that's how he wanted to play?
Before he could turn away completely, I snatched his wrist, yanked him back with all the righteous fury of a man wronged, rose on my toes—and smashed my lips against his. Just a peck. A quick, insolent splat on his mouth.
But then—because I'm petty—I gave his lower lip a little bite.
The look on his face? Worth it. His eyes went wide, like someone had just slapped the holy scriptures out of his hands.
I smirked, triumphant. "So… now you believe it? That I really like men? I didn't want to prove it to you, grand duke, but you left me no choice."
He stood frozen, one hand touching his lips as though I'd burned him. Meanwhile, I basked in my glorious one-second victory.
"Now then…" I dusted my hands dramatically, turning away. "I shall leave. Enjoy your brooding, Grand Duke—"
And that's when my wrist was caught.
"What—hey, what are you—"
Before I could blink, he yanked me back, hard, and his mouth crashed against mine. Not a peck. Not playful. This one was— holy stars—like he was trying to carve an answer out of me.
My brain short-circuited.
Because, this?
This was war.
His grip on my wrist tightened, the tendons of his hand flexing like steel bands. I tried to pull back, but he didn't budge. Not even a millimeter.
"Mmh—!" I shoved weakly at his chest, heat flaring all over me, but the bastard just used that as an excuse to press me harder against the rock wall, caging me in with his whole damn body.
The kiss deepened, teeth grazing, lips sealing over mine like he wanted to erase every shred of air I had left. It was overwhelming—like drowning in fire.
"Al…var—!" I tried to protest, but the sound was swallowed the moment his tongue brushed mine.
My knees buckled. My body trembled. He tasted like heat, salt, and something dangerous I couldn't put into words.
I twisted, wriggled, and tried everything short of setting myself on fire to escape—but this grand duke was immovable. Every struggle only made him press harder, like he wanted to carve his certainty into me.
The bastard was testing me. I could feel it. His kiss wasn't just passion—it was a question. A demand. And gods help me… part of me wanted to scream "no." But another part… that treacherous, shaking part of me… didn't want him to stop.
My lungs burned. My pride howled. And yet—
And yet—
I gave in. My lips stopped resisting. My hands, which had been clawing at his chest, curled into his skin instead. Just once. Just for a moment.
That was all it took for him to devour me completely.
And the terrifying part?
It felt good. Too damn good.
My heart jackhammered against my ribs as his hand slid lower, lower—fingers grazing the curve of my ass like he had every right to touch me there.
My eyes flew wide. Nope. No, no, no, hell no.
With all the righteous fury left in me, I stomped down on his foot under the water. Hard.
"—Aah!" He hissed, loosening his hold for a split second.
I shoved him with everything I had, stumbling back, water splashing between us. My chest heaved. His chest heaved. Our lips were swollen, breaths were coming ragged, and the silence between us cracked like thunder.
We just… stared.
I don't know what I expected to see in his eyes—anger, hunger, maybe even that smug confidence he always wore like a crown. But for the first time, his expression was more unreadable. A blank mask cracked with something raw, something dangerous, something I couldn't name.
Panic surged.
My head snapped to the side, avoiding his gaze like it burned. "I… I should leave."
The words spilled out broken, tripping over my tongue, but I didn't wait for a response. Couldn't. Before he could say anything, before he could reach for me again, before I could see what the hell that kiss meant to him, I bolted.
Feet splashing, lungs screaming, heart in chaos—I ran.
I didn't dare look back.
Not once.
Because I didn't want to know.
Not if his face was twisted with disgust. Not if his eyes were wide with shock. Not if his mouth curled with hate.
I just ran, like if I moved fast enough, I could outpace the taste of him still burning on my lips. My chest pounded with the only thought that mattered—
What… did we do?