Epilogue
Soren's POV
I groaned out in pleasure as he walked his hands through my slim body sending shivers down my spine.
I have never felt this loss in sexual actions until now, having myself pinned beneath his big perfect body as he went ahead to do the crazy things I have in mind for him to do but never said it.
Maybe he's a wizard, or a mind reader that can read my mind and tell me what I want.
But I don't care, today, I want to give it all up. The good boy in me and the always careful and mindful me. I want to be bad and he's the only one who can make me be it.
"Please" I whispered and grabbed him back up, hungry for his lips on mine.
He gave me just what I needed, he moved up and captured my lips. I gasped in his moan, loving just how much it feels to feel nothing but pleasure and how well desires can make me do the undoable.
I wrapped my legs around his waist and began grinding myself on him. I was hard and needy, so was him. We both wanted this and our lust was the fuel in this act.
"Take off my pants" I whispered in faint pleas
He moved at my words and unbuckled my pants. Before I knew it, my pants were off and I was bare on the bed.
"You are beautiful" he whispered, his eyes all over me like he'll eat me up if I let him.
"Enough of the compliment and fuck me already" I rolled my eyes.
Yes, I wanted to be complimented while having sex but with the person I love. Not just a random guy.
He chuckled and I frowned.
"Fuck? Thought we were making love" he teased and I rolled my eyes again.
"In your dreams" I bite my inner lips, trying to stop myself from wishing the same.
My mind takes me back to Dain, the person I thought I loved and wanted only to find out he was a fake.
No, I won't think about him... right now, I want to risk it all with someone else and not hold on to broken dreams. Dain is that broken dream that brings nothing but my most hated trauma.
"Are you just going to stand there and watch me? I might as well leave" I stood up to leave when he grabbed my hand and pulled me back down on the bed.
"You can't bail out now" he whispers.
"Thought you wanted to?"
He grabbed my hands and placed it on his hard dick still in his pants.
"Take it off"
I blinked but I was quick to snap myself out of it. I wanted this...I reminded myself in silence as I moved my hands and released his pants and it came falling down.
He grabbed my hands and placed it on his dick, I felt his dick move against the thin layer of his inner pants.
"Give me a hand job"
I moved, brought out his dick and I was surprised to see how big and long it was. I gulped instinctively and tightened my hold around it.
He grunted and I looked up, his face was a mixture of pleasure and sometimes else.
I moved my hands back and forth, but the movement wasn't smooth.
"I need a lub"
He grabbed a sachet of lubricant, tore it open and poured it on my hands. I spread all around his dick, as I moved my hands until he began throwing off some precum.
Then, he grabbed me, turned me on all fours and before I knew it, he penetrated me in one swift movement.
I whimpered and shivered, groaning. He thrust into me, filling me whole.
After a while, he pulled away, grabbed me out of the bed and stood me by the wall.
"Hold the wall" came at his command.
Before I could think of moving, he grabbed a leg, placed it on his shoulder causing me to almost fall if not the wall.
Then, he positioned himself at my entrance and went all in causing me to cry out.
The night went on and on, we went on and on until there was no energy left to stand. I slumped on the bed and he came after. In a blink of an eye, we were gone into our land of fantasy, inhaling each other's smell as the scent of our sex and sweat lingered all over the room.
*******************"
I woke up all sore and tired, but I still forced myself to sit up. I glanced at the sleeping man next to me, and for a second, I couldn't deny the fact he was handsome.
But being handsome doesn't mean he's the one. I got to go. I stood up, and quickly grabbed my pants from the floor and put them on.
Then my shirt and jacket. Even though I did something as insane as this, at least, I feel better and that made me more sure of what I want.
I grabbed my phone on the bed, gave the sleeping man one last glance before I left.
As soon as I stepped out of the building, I was grabbed by a certain someone and pushed against the wall.
When I looked up, I was surprised to see Dain staring at me with eyes that could kill me instantly if they could.
"What are you doing?" I asked and tried to set myself free but he heard me still against the wall, angry eyes staring at me
"Where are you coming from? Why didn't you come back home last night? Did you cheat on me? With who?" Dain threw multiple questions that left me wondering which I'm to answer first.
But, was I even supposed to answer? I owe him no explanation whatsoever.
I jerked his hands off me, "I awe you no explanation, Dain" I was about to take a step when he stopped and pushed me back against the wall.
"Yes you do, I am your fucking boyfriend " Dain yelled.
"Boyfriend?" I repeated.
A painful Chuckle escaped my lips, "no, you aren't....you lost that the day you showed me just how much you can do...you lost that title the day you laid your filthy hands on me after I caught you cheating on me with Mark, and now you stand here to know my where about? As who? Or do you see me as a fool to run back into your arms?" I barked.
"How dare you talk to me in such a manner?" Dain raised his hand to slap me.
Out of instinct, I shrink. I was a man, yes, but a soft fragile man with forever traumas and this is what left me broken.
I fearfully waited for the slap but it didn't come. When I looked up, I was surprised to see my one night stand, holding up the Dain hand in the air as he stopped him from hitting me.
"I'm sorry, but you can't do whatever you like" Tavian said, so casually li
ke nothing but what was happening. But Beneath his calm voice, was a buried anger that left me shocked in surprise.
Travian's POV I watched him from where I stood—just a few steps behind, near the edge of that old sycamore tree where we once played. His back was turned, shoulders stiff, like he was bracing for impact. And maybe he was. Maybe he always had been.But I couldn’t carry it anymore. The silence. The distance. The weight of everything I never got to say.So I stepped closer, careful not to scare him away. My voice came quiet, low, but steady.“Do you remember when we played here all day?” I asked. “Never running out of energy… like time didn’t matter, like the sun would stay up just for us?”He didn’t move.But I saw the slight hitch of his shoulders. The way his hand gripped the bark like it might splinter under his touch.“Back then,” I went on, my throat tightening, “I didn’t know what it meant. I thought it was just the joy of having someone who liked the same silly things—mud fights, tree climbing, treasure hunts in the grass.”I took a breath, tasting the ache on my tongue.“But wh
I don’t know how long I sat there.The bark of the sycamore bit into my back, grounding me while my thoughts threatened to unravel everything I thought I’d stitched together. The woods around me pulsed with life—birds calling in the distance, wind rustling through the leaves, the faint creak of old branches shifting—but all I could hear was my heartbeat. Loud. Unsteady.And his name.Travian.Travian.God. It all made sense now.I’d wondered how he found me. How he knew where to look when I’d worked so damn hard to disappear. I thought maybe fate was just cruel. That maybe it was playing one last trick on me before letting me live in peace.But I see it now.I knew him before. I just… didn’t know it was him.The boy from years ago—the one who lived in the yellow house next door with the wild garden and the crooked shutters. The boy I used to watch from behind Grandma’s curtain, peeking through the lace to catch glimpses of him riding his bike, climbing trees, drawing in chalk on the p
I didn’t move.Couldn’t.Not when my breath had hitched halfway up my throat and lodged there like a stone. Not when my chest felt like it had turned inside out—thread pulled too tight, nerves flayed open. Every inch of mine had gone still, save for the heartbeat ricocheting like a desperate bird in a cage.Travian.He stood there like a ghost carved from the past, too real to be memory and too sharp to be a dream. The sight of him was a blow—one I hadn’t braced for. Like a wound I thought had healed clean, only to find it festering the moment it was touched.His eyes locked with mine.And in that single, breathless moment, time didn’t just slow.It unraveled.Staggered.Collapsed in on itself like paper in flame.The smile on his face was soft. Hesitant. Familiar in all the wrong ways. Like the echo of an old song you’d tried to forget, but couldn’t help humming under your breath when you were alone.And I—I turned away.Not with anger. Not even a shame.But with something quieter.
The sun had risen a little higher by the time I stepped outside again, the warmth already pressing against my skin like a gentle warning. A thin sheen of sweat clung to my brow, and I wiped it with the back of my hand as my eyes swept across the garden.It was overgrown.Untamed.Beautiful in that unruly way nature becomes when it’s left to its own will. The hibiscus had burst out of its neat bed, spilling toward the stone path in unruly waves of red and coral. Creeping vines clung to the fence posts and wrapped around the wooden stakes like lovers who never wanted to let go, threatening to strangle the smaller blossoms that tried to bloom beneath their shade.It looked abandoned. Forgotten.But somehow… it felt like me.And I didn’t mind.There was something sacred about the mess, about getting lost in it. I dug my hands into the earth, pulling weeds and snipping away decayed leaves. Each movement is slow and deliberate, almost meditative. As if with every tug, every breath of damp s
I woke up feeling like I hadn’t slept at all.My limbs ached, not from labor but from the weight of restless thoughts and unspoken regrets. It was like I had been fighting in my sleep—battling ghosts I couldn’t name, chasing shadows that always slipped through my fingers. My head felt heavy, fogged over, like my mind had stayed up long after my body gave in.Dreams had visited me in fragments—faces half-remembered, voices laced with pain, memories I had shoved into the deepest corners of my mind. Some of them whispered. Others screamed.Still, something stirred me.It wasn’t the light bleeding through the old lace curtains, though it painted golden patterns across the room. Nor was it the birdsong drifting from the mango tree outside, even though it carried a melody I used to whistle as a child.No.It was a smell.Rich. Warm. Heartachingly familiar.It drifted into the room like a quiet invitation—unspoken, yet impossible to ignore. Meat. Onions. Garlic. The sharp sizzle of something
I left the city the next morning.No dramatic goodbye. No tearful farewells at the station. No one running after me in the rain. Just me, a battered backpack slung over one shoulder, a crumpled bus ticket in my hand, and that hollow ache in my chest that whispered—go.Not for revenge. Not even for healing.Just to breathe.I needed air that didn’t taste like him. Walls that didn’t remember my cries. Streets that didn’t echo with the sound of my own unraveling.I needed to go where his scent didn’t cling to the curtains. Where I didn’t wake up reaching for someone who’d already let me go.So I left.I took nothing but the essentials—just enough clothes, a photo of Grandma tucked in my journal, and the remnants of a heart that still hadn’t decided whether to keep beating.I didn’t even look back.Because looking back meant I’d hesitate. It meant I’d feel everything again—the betrayal, the confusion, the stupid sliver of hope still lodged in my chest like a shard of glass. So I stared st