Do You Love Me, Sinco?

Ainsley evaded his eyes. He couldn't bring himself to take a look at this man anymore. If he didn't see the green scaly heart, he wouldn't believe it. Moreover, what did Sinclair say? Sharing the heart with him effectively cut off a series of rebirths for Sinclair?

He looked down at his chest and collected Sinclair's hand with both of his. His breath then hitched as he wheezed in a pained laugh. "Oh, my God. This is so messed up…"

Sinclair's eyes widened, but he kept his silence. It was the first time that he had seen Ainsley cry like this again ever since they had become adults. The friend didn't even bother hiding his tears or stopping the mucus from blocking his nose.

"This is so messed—it's all my fault. Oh, my God, what did I force you to do?" Ainsley gasped within the cry and realized something that he had said in passing that day. He didn't recall the words verbally, but his grip on Sinclair's hand only tightened. He said it, didn't he? That he would hate Sinclair if the friend didn't do anything to revive him…

Sinclair really did, however. He gave up the rest of his life for Ainsley.

"Sinco, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry…" Ainsley started to wipe his eyes and nose, but he only made a mess on their hands.

Sinclair used his other hand to fish for his handkerchief and offered to clear Ainsley's face for him. "Don't be. It's a conscious decision. Then again, it's not like you can outlive me. I still have thousands of years left. If anything, I might even forget that I wouldn't be reborn anymore."

He allowed Ainsley to clear his nose on the handkerchief. "You really don't have to feel bad."

There was a smile on his face, however. After all, he had lived through the days of war and millennia of peace. For someone who had too much power that he couldn't even use, Sinclair was rather bored with his everlasting life. If anything, only the clan cared about his presence as a pillar of the clan's power.

Now that he had met someone who made it worthwhile, he didn't really care about reincarnating again. Without Ainsley in his next life, what was the point of living it?

Ainsley would wail longer, but he was starting to feel awkward. He was getting suffocated by his mucus, and another grown man was dealing with it. Sinclair wasn't even getting grossed out. He then decided to wail another time as he took over the clearing of his face.

"So… so… what did they say? Your parents? Is this the reason why they thought that you are almost marrying me?" He remembered a few things. They were supposed to see the King family tomorrow, after all. With this revealed to him, Ainsley couldn't help but piece things together.

"Hm? No need to care about them. I'll work on it." Sinclair only shook his head. He then reached out to caress the head of his friend, who was starting to get conscious of his nose. "Let's get to the restroom. Heh, how could you produce so much in a few seconds? Is your brain made out of that?"

"Aren't you grossed out? Gosh, I wished you are, so I could have threatened you with it."

…

It was strange. Ainsley was back to lying down on the bed from earlier. The light overhead was turned off, and Sinclair was seated on a chair next to the bed. He was reading through his phone, but his brows were furrowed. A table lamp was shining yellow light at the CEO, making him glow with its yellow film.

The human kept on staring at Sinclair as if he had not seen this man for a long time. He kept on taking note of Sinclair's handsome, serious face and very regal visage against the soft yellow light. It was like he was a different person every time he attended to Ainsley.

This very man even sacrificed such a very important matter for him.

"Hey, Sinco…" Ainsley weakly murmured as he kept on lying on his side. He already called out, but his words got caught in his throat when Sinclair only hummed in response. However, the question still proceeded slowly. "…do you love me, Sinco?"

"…" Sinclair moved his eyes to take a look at the man on the bed. Why did it feel like his eyes were glittering as if expecting a positive answer? "Does it matter right now?"

"No." A pout came after. "I just remembered some employees asking me if we have that kind of relationship. Shucks, everyone always asks me that like they had never seen—" He cut off his own words. He only resumed staring at Sinclair without another noise.

Sinclair only snorted. That was it; that was his response.

As if not realizing that Sinclair refused to answer, Ainsley's eyes flickered. He then moved closer to the edge of the bed as if readying to hear a small peep instead. Sinclair caught his action, but he only glanced at the other. He still refused to say anything.

Before Ainsley could ask again, knocking came to the door. Stuart had opened the door and took a quick, examining look at Ainsley first before turning to Sinclair. "Master, they're ready. Let me watch over Mr. Leneghan."

"Alright." Without giving one last look at Ainsley, Sinclair got up and walked out of the room.

Ainsley only pouted and turned away. However, he realized that Stuart was a familiar face to him. Their eyes then met before Stuart turned away as if not entertaining him. It's just that… "Master is busy these days. Try not to impose on him too much. You have already placed a great burden on his shoulders. Don't add anything more."

The human got up to sit and took a look at the secretary. "Does this have something to do with that dragon heart?"

"How insolent." Stuart almost hissed. "Don't speak of it lightly, as if you knew what you had taken away. Go to bed and wake up when the sun rises. We have no more energy to spare on you."

"…okay." Ainsley didn't argue with Stuart. He couldn't blame the other. If he read up on those creatures from the right sources, then Sinclair must be a very important person to them. For him to stop getting reborn, they must have suffered from a blow.

It's just that… Ainsley didn't ask for it. That was just a joke; he really didn't want Sinclair to die early because of him.