Too Much Pain to Speak

"You're insane," Noah cursed, ignoring Feder as he took a sip of juice. 

Feder, despite being insulted, continued to grin as if the person who had just threatened Noah wasn't him at all.

Suddenly, Feder leaned in closer to Noah.

Startled, Noah leaned back, his tone sharp with annoyance, "What the hell are you doing?"

"Let me have a bite," Feder said, before opening his mouth and taking a bite of the sandwich in Noah's hand.

"Damn it, that's disgusting! You have your own plate; can't you just take from that?" Noah's face twisted in disdain, his frustration becoming more apparent.

"Disgusting?" Feder wiped the breadcrumbs from the corner of his mouth with a mocking smile, staring directly at Noah. Though he didn't say much, the look in his eyes spoke volumes.

Noah's face flushed red immediately, fully aware of what Feder was implying.

"Don't push me, or I'll slap you right here," Noah warned, the redness on his face quickly replaced by anger.

"As long as you dare to hit me, I'll make sure you regret it," Feder responded with a smirk, his tone domineering.

"You..." Noah was both furious and frustrated, wishing he could twist Feder's head off. What infuriated him even more was Feder's shamelessness—speaking so casually about such things, right there in the dining room, with servants standing behind them.

Feder reached out and gently pinched Noah's chin, smiling as he said, "Be good, and your husband will treat you well."

Damn this bastard—what husband? He's just messing with me on purpose!

Noah's anger flared, and he slapped Feder's hand away, aware that Feder was deliberately teasing him.

"Why so shy?" Feder teased with a carefree grin, resting his chin on his hand as he sipped his coffee, watching Noah with amusement.

Noah's fists clenched as he glared at Feder, seething with rage. This man is crazy—acting as if we're the only ones here, saying whatever comes to mind.

Noah glanced at the servants behind him, but they seemed unfazed.

Could they really not hear us?

Noah could only assume that.

But he was mistaken. The servants weren't reacting because they had already witnessed plenty of similar interactions between Richa and Kyle. Compared to that, this little spat between Noah and Feder was nothing new—they were already immune to it.

Feder continued sipping his coffee, his gaze fixed on Noah, eventually noticing a small cut on Noah's lip.

Without thinking, Feder reached out to touch Noah's lip gently. "Does it hurt?" he asked, his voice uncharacteristically soft.

Noah was taken aback, staring blankly at Feder, probably because this sudden gentleness was so out of character for him.

But in the next moment, Noah pushed Feder's hand away, his tone cold, "Don't touch me."

Feder frowned slightly, his attempts at tenderness always seeming to provoke Noah's anger instead.

"I'm just asking if it hurts—do you really have to make that disgusted face?" Feder asked, his expression showing a hint of hurt.

Noah found this amusing, and mocked Feder, "And how should I treat you? Should I smile and be nice to a scumbag like you?"

This is ridiculous—expecting me, the victim, to feel sorry for him? It's laughable.

Noah stood up, ready to leave, not wanting to spend another minute in Feder's presence.

But as he took his second step, Feder grabbed his wrist tightly, refusing to let go.

"Let go," Noah demanded, his voice low and his eyes cold as he stared at Feder.

Feder didn't say a word, but his frown deepened.

In one swift motion, he pulled Noah onto his lap.

Noah, startled, widened his eyes as his nose collided painfully with Feder's chin.

"Damn you, Feder!" Noah roared, clutching his nose as he yelled in anger, glaring at Feder with blood seeping through his fingers.

Feder still didn't speak. He simply grabbed a tissue from the table, pushed Noah's hand aside, and pressed it against Noah's bleeding nose.

Noah fumed. What's this? He messes up and then has the nerve to give me an attitude?

The more he thought about it, the more annoyed he became. He tried to get off Feder's lap, but Feder held him down.

"Let go of me!" Noah shouted, his voice echoing through the dining room.

Feder remained silent, but blood began to seep from the corner of his mouth—a sign that he had bitten his tongue when Noah's nose hit his chin.

Seeing Feder's bleeding mouth, Noah paused, staring dumbfounded at him. It dawned on him that Feder wasn't ignoring him out of anger—he was in too much pain to speak.

Damn it! Does he expect me to feel sorry for him? Why should I—I'm the victim here.

Noah misunderstood Feder's silence, thinking he was trying to gain sympathy. But that wasn't it. Feder was indeed hurt, but he wasn't trying to elicit pity.

Feder carefully held the tissue against Noah's bleeding nose, only wiping the blood from his own mouth with a casual swipe of his hand, leaving his injury untreated.

Noah bit his lip, his expression conflicted—mostly feeling a pang of guilt.

No, I shouldn't feel guilty. He brought this on himself! If he hadn't pulled me back, this wouldn't have happened.

Noah quickly steadied himself, but there was still something about seeing the blood on Feder's lip that made him uneasy, filling him with irritation.

Feder, meanwhile, glanced at Noah's lips, hesitated for a moment, and then gently kissed him before resting his head on Noah's shoulder. In a muffled voice, he said, "I'm sorry."

Noah's body stiffened instantly, leaving him in a state of shock. But a moment later, his lips trembled, and he felt a surge of anger mixed with a sense of vulnerability.

His fists clenched as he shakily questioned Feder, "Sorry for what? Sorry for the way you've treated me, or sorry for everything you've done?"

As he spoke, Noah's nose began to sting, and despite his efforts, he found himself on the verge of tears, angered beyond measure.

"For everything. For everything I've done to you," Feder admitted, his arms tightening around Noah as he let out a pained sigh, as if he truly regretted his actions.

Noah wiped away a tear without a word, his sniffles betraying the emotion he was trying to suppress.

Hearing Noah's sniffling, Feder held him even tighter.

He couldn't bring himself to look Noah in the eyes, couldn't bear to see him cry.

"I know I was wrong," Feder apologized again.

Noah pushed Feder away, refusing to let him lean on his shoulder, continuing to wipe his tears in silence.

As Feder was pushed aside, he finally saw Noah's tear-streaked face—red eyes, a flushed nose, and tears spilling down his cheeks.

In that moment, Feder felt an unfamiliar pain in his chest, his breath catching in his throat.

His hand trembled as he reached out to wipe Noah's tears, his heart aching as he gently kissed Noah's eyes.

He never wanted to hurt Noah. From the moment they met, Feder had never once intended to harm him. But every time he realized what he had done, Noah was already hurt beyond repair.

Feder was wild and domineering, but all he wanted was for Noah to love him. Yet, he had no idea how to love someone, having never been taught what love was.

His mother had been defiled, married to a man who tormented her daily, until she lost her mind, not even recognizing her own son.

Feder had often wished he'd never been born, cursing the day he came into this world.

"Don't cry... please, don't cry," Feder whispered, his voice trembling with fear.

Noah's tears reminded him too much of his mother—how she had once shielded him from her abuser, only to be beaten senseless.

No one knew the kind of childhood Feder had endured. His mother, who had become pregnant out of wedlock, married a man who saw Feder as nothing more than a burden. Getting beaten was a daily occurrence.

He was too small to fight back, and every time his mother protected him, she would get hurt. But despite her own suffering, she never let anyone lay a finger on him.

Then, one day, the man came home drunk and started beating them both. Seeing his mother on the verge of death, Feder had grabbed a fruit knife and ended the man's life.

Terrified, tears streaming down his face, Feder's small, bony hands were covered in blood.

His mother lost her mind that day, unable to recognize anyone anymore.

Feder barely remembered what happened afterward. He only knew that he had called the police and held his mother as she screamed, his lips quivering as he cried. What happened after that was a blur—how the police arrived, he didn't know. All he remembered was seeing his father.

That man had looked down at him from above, his sharp eyes devoid of anything but coldness, as if Feder were nothing more than a beggar.

From that moment on, Feder vowed to make the DuPont family pay, to never forgive any of them.

Feder refused to return to the DuPont family, choosing instead to stay with his mother in the hospital, rejecting any help from his father's side.

But he was only ten years old, unable to afford his mother's medical bills, and eventually had to accept money

 from Richa's father, though he never acknowledged him as his father.

Richa felt guilty toward Feder because his mother had once been Richa's personal maid.

Back then, Richa was still young, too powerless to help Feder's mother as she was sent to Richa's father's room.

The incident with Feder's stepfather only added to Richa's guilt. He knew Feder had suffered greatly, which is why he tolerated so much.

Feder knew this, which is why he wasn't afraid of Richa and dared to confront him head-on.

Feder hated Richa—hated him for not stopping his beast of a father. Even though he knew deep down that none of it was Richa's fault, he still couldn't forgive him.

As Noah watched Feder tremble in fear, he didn't know how to react. After all, he was the one who had been hurt—why was Feder the one looking like he was in so much pain?

"Don't cry... don't cry," Feder repeated over and over, his hands shaking as he wiped away Noah's tears.

But was he really wiping away Noah's tears? More likely, he was seeing his mother in Noah, their images overlapping in his mind.