Returning to Richa's Home

"You've got a lot of men around you, Noah," Feder sneered, his tone dripping with jealousy more than actual anger.

As Feder stewed in his jealousy, passersby on the street began to take notice of him, some whispering and glancing curiously at the sight of a man striding down the street in a bathrobe, barefoot. 

"What are you looking at?" Feder barked at them, his irritation boiling over. He knew that chasing after Noah now would be futile, so he turned around and made his way back to his apartment, frustration etched on his face.

When he returned home, Feder unleashed his anger by yelling at the women inside, telling them to get out. 

The women, frightened by his outburst, quickly gathered their things and left without a word. The one who had been in the kitchen, busy cooking, was left utterly confused. Just moments ago, Feder had asked her to prepare food, and now, suddenly, he was throwing them all out.

Meanwhile, in Leo's car, Noah slumped in the passenger seat, struggling to catch his breath. Leo, glancing at him, noticed that Noah was only wearing a bathrobe—clearly oversized, and clearly Feder's. His brows furrowed as he pieced together what might have happened. Seeing Feder chasing after Noah, it wasn't hard to guess that something had gone down between them.

Why can't Feder just admit he likes Noah instead of putting him through all this? Leo thought, exasperated.

"Why were you even there?" Noah finally asked, after managing to calm his breathing.

Leo kept his eyes on the road as he explained, "You left the office in such a hurry this afternoon, and when it got dark and you still hadn't returned, I figured you might have gone to Feder's place. I decided to check on you after work."

Noah fell silent, his gaze dropping to his lap. After a long pause, he spoke quietly, "Can you just pretend this never happened?"

"I only happened to see you by chance and gave you a lift. That's all," Leo replied.

"Thank you," Noah murmured, his voice heavy with emotion as he hugged himself tightly.

Leo wanted to ask more, but seeing Noah's state, he held back. Instead, he quietly agreed, "I'll take you to your boss's house."

Noah nodded, his voice barely audible as he gave directions. Now that the adrenaline had worn off, he realized how weak his legs felt, how his body trembled with residual fear.

Meanwhile, Kyle was following Richa into his mansion, walking timidly by his side, his head bowed low in apprehension. He felt small and out of place, with all the staff in the mansion staring at him.

"Welcome back, sir," the elderly butler greeted Richa warmly as he stepped inside.

"Thank you," Richa replied with a nod, handing his suit jacket to the butler.

The butler took the jacket with a gentle smile, then turned to Kyle, greeting him with the same warmth, "Good evening, Young Master Kyle."

"H-Hello," Kyle stammered, shyly returning the greeting as he tried to hide behind Richa.

Kyle had been to Richa's home before, but only late at night when no one else was around. This was the first time he'd visited while the entire staff was present, and their curious gazes made him feel incredibly awkward and out of place. 

The elderly butler was one of the few people Kyle had met before, though they'd rarely spoken. Now, Kyle found himself too nervous to make eye contact, his voice barely more than a whisper.

"Dinner will be ready shortly. Would you like to freshen up before eating?" the butler asked Richa.

"Mm," Richa responded curtly, scooping Kyle up into his arms without hesitation and carrying him upstairs, all while the household staff watched in stunned silence.

Kyle buried his face in Richa's chest, too embarrassed to look around, his arms wrapped tightly around Richa's neck.

Once they were in Richa's bedroom, Kyle finally lifted his head, his face flushed from the embarrassment of being carried in front of so many people.

Richa noticed Kyle's flushed cheeks and couldn't take his eyes off him, making Kyle even more self-conscious. Kyle quickly looked away, avoiding Richa's gaze.

"Take a bath and come downstairs for dinner," Richa instructed, carrying Kyle to the bathroom.

Kyle nodded obediently, his face turning an even deeper shade of red.

After his bath, Kyle sat quietly as Richa helped him into a robe. He found himself staring at Richa, unable to look away. Richa suddenly looked up, their eyes meeting, and Kyle immediately panicked, quickly dropping his gaze, his ears turning crimson.

Richa chuckled softly, running a hand through Kyle's hair, knowing that Kyle wasn't afraid, just shy.

When Kyle didn't hear Richa say anything, he risked a quick glance, only to find their eyes meeting again. Startled, he quickly averted his gaze, his hands fidgeting nervously.

Is he going to think I'm too easy? That I'm just using him by staying here? Kyle's insecurities began to surface. He was worried that Richa might think less of him for being so forward, for moving in so quickly.

Kyle sneaked another glance at Richa, taking in the man's mature, composed features, and felt his face flush even more. It still felt surreal to Kyle that someone like Richa could be his.

Richa leaned down and gave Kyle a gentle kiss. Despite his nervousness, Kyle didn't pull away, and Richa smiled, running his hand through Kyle's hair again as if to reward him.

Kyle's face lit up with a shy smile, the happiness evident in his eyes. He loved it when Richa stroked his hair—something no one had ever done for him before. 

Growing up, Kyle's world had been devoid of affection. His parents never praised him, only criticized and belittled him. His childhood was filled with chores, working at their shop for free, washing dishes, and being treated as a burden. His sister, Grace, never had to lift a finger, always pampered by their parents, who catered to her every whim.

As a child, Kyle had cried over the unfairness, but as he grew older, he learned that tears changed nothing. By the time Mark moved in with them, Kyle had already shut himself off emotionally, speaking as little as possible to avoid the constant stream of criticism and insults.

"Is something wrong? Are you feeling unwell?" Richa's voice cut through Kyle's thoughts as he noticed tears suddenly streaming down Kyle's face.

Kyle was startled by Richa's question, realizing he had been crying without noticing. He reached up, touching the wetness on his cheeks in disbelief.

"Was it something I did?" Richa asked, his voice filled with concern.

"No, it's not that. I just... I don't know why I'm crying," Kyle stammered, wiping his tears with his sleeve, embarrassed by his uncontrollable emotions. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to start crying like this."

Richa frowned slightly, not because he was annoyed by Kyle's tears, but because he suspected that someone or something had deeply hurt Kyle. His voice was stern as he asked, "Does this have something to do with why you ran away from home?"

Kyle bit his lip, unable to answer, using the back of his hand to wipe away his tears. There was so much pain inside him, but he didn't know how to share it with Richa, afraid that Richa might find him as burdensome as his family did.

Richa sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. Kyle had a tendency to keep everything bottled up inside, never sharing his troubles.

"If you don't want to go back, then stay here with me," Richa said, leaning down to kiss Kyle's tear-streaked cheeks, gently wiping away the remaining tears. 

Kyle nodded, still sniffling, his voice shaky as he replied, "Okay…"

Richa's brow furrowed slightly, his thoughts turning to Mark. He made a mental note to ask Mark about Kyle's family situation—why Kyle always seemed to end up in tears.

"I'm sorry. I know I cry a lot. I must be really annoying, huh? I'll try not to cry anymore," Kyle apologized, hurriedly wiping his eyes and trying to hold back his tears.

"If you need to cry, then cry," Richa said softly, his tone comforting rather than scolding. "But crying too much isn't good for your eyes, so try not to overdo it."

Kyle's eyes filled with fresh tears at Richa's words. No one had ever told him it was okay to cry before. His family always acted like his tears were a nuisance. He had assumed Richa would feel the same.

Richa added with a gentle kiss on Kyle's forehead, "But crying too much isn't good for your eyes, so try to take it easy."

Kyle's face flushed once again because he realized that Richa really liked kissing him.