Nico's sharp eyes landed on him.
He didn't say much.
Just motioned slightly with his chin. "Drop it."
Santi nodded stiffly, stepping forward and placing the wine gently on the table.
But before he could turn to leave—
Nico's voice came, low and clipped.
"Next time, knock before coming in."
It wasn't loud. It wasn't angry.
But damn, it stung.
Santi didn't reply. He just nodded again, swallowing the lump in his throat, and turned to walk out.
His hand curled into a fist at his side.
*********
The room was quiet except for the faint rustle of clothes and the sound of Ace adjusting his collar in front of the mirror.
Night had fallen.
Ace stood there, struggling with the last two buttons on his shirt, his brows furrowed in that cute, concentrated way he always had.
Kyan, lying sideways on the bed with his chin in his palm, watched for a moment—then chuckled.
"Need help, Mr. Prom King?"
Ace glanced back at him with a smirk. "What gave me away?"
