Chapter 7- Roman's games

Dyleon then stepped closer to the bed, reaching for one of the petals—but Lysan grabbed his wrist.

“Don't touch it.”

Dyleon narrowed his eyes. “Why? What's wrong with the rose?”

He sighed. “It's a threat.”

Dyleon expression shifted to that of genuine concern. “A threat? From who?”

Lysan released his wrist and sat on the bed without answering him.

Dyleon stared at him, “You know who's been leaving them, don't you?”

“I have suspicions.”

“Tell me Lysan, I can help.”

“No, you can't.” Lysan said, his voice flat.

Dyleon's jaw tightened. “Why are you doing this? Why won't you let me in?”

Lysan didn’t look at him. “Because it's safer for you not to know.”

“Safer?” Dyleon laughed bitterly. “Do you think I'm safe this way too? I've watched you fall apart for a week. I've watched Roman circle you every single time like a predator. And I've watched you lie to me over and over again.” His voice rose slightly.

He stepped closer. “I'm not safe, Lysan. I haven't felt safe since I walked out of that gala.” His voice was calmer now.

Lysan felt a dull ache in his chest. “I'm sorry.”

“No, sorry isn't enough Lys.” Dyleon's voice cracked slightly. “Tell me what's going on. Please. I'm begging you.”

Lysan finally looked up at Dyleon and met his eyes. Dyleon’s eyes were glistening with tears and his throat tightened. He opened his mouth to say something—the words were right there. He was going to tell him the truth—but the rose on the bed caught his eye. Then he swallowed the words. He couldn't bring Dyleon into the mess from his previous life, and it was better if it stayed this way. That would be safer for him.

“I'm sorry Dyleon.” He dropped his gaze. “I can't. I'm so sorry.”

Dyleon's face crumpled bitterly as he nodded slowly. “Okay.” He stepped back. “It's cool.”

Then he turned around and walked towards the door.

“Wh—where are you going?” Lysan stood up from his bed.

“Back to my room.” Dyleon shrugged. “Where I can pretend I don't care.” He looked at Lysan. “But I do, Lysan. I do. And that's the problem.” and he walked out, slamming the door.

Lysan flinched as Dyleon slammed the door and walked out. “I'm so sorry, Dyleon. I really am.”

—

The next day, Lysan arrived at school early. He couldn't sleep throughout the night—his eyes were heavy and his body ached badly.

When he settled into his seat, he scanned the room for Dyleon, but he hadn't arrived, so he kept his eyes to the door.

Five minutes later, Dyleon walked in. He just walked straight to his seat without even sparing Lysan a glance.

Lysan smiled bitterly. “Back to the usual, I guess,” he said to himself.

Then Roman entered almost immediately and walked straight to the podium, smiling at the class—warm, charming and effortless.

“Good morning everyone,” he said as he arranged his books on the podium. “Today, we're going to do something different.”

He stepped down and walked towards Lysan's desk.

“You,” he said, pointing at Lysan, “—are going to help me with a demonstration this morning.”

Lysan forced down his irritation and clenched his jaw. “What kind of demonstration?”

“The kinds that require a partner.” Roman deepened his smile. “You don't have to worry, Lysan. I'll be gentle.”

Then he extended his hand and waited for Lysan to take it.

Lysan hesitated. He knew the whole class was watching him—most importantly, Dyleon was watching him.

And they were all waiting to see what he would do.

But he didn't take his hand. He stood up and walked to the front of the class ignoring Roman's outstretched hand.

Roman's smile didn't falter. He walked to the board and began drawing a diagram—two plants. And the roots were intertwined.

“Symbiosis,” Roman said, still drawing on the board. “It is the relationship between two people. Some are mutualistic,” he turned to the class and demonstrated with his hands. “Both benefits. While some are parasitic—one consumes the other.”

He turned to face Lysan. “And some are something else entirely, something in between.”

He picked a small potted plant behind Lysan—its roots were tangled, and it looked weak and struggling.

“This plant is already more than halfway gone.” He faced the class. “It had been in another relationship with another plant for too long, that it forgot how to grow on its own.”

He held it out to Lysan. “I'd like for you to revive this plant, just like you did to the rose bush.” He paused and studied Lysan's face. “Or don't. Either way, it's your choice. You can decide to save another plant, or prolong its suffering.”

Lysan retrieved the seedling from Roman, and his fingers brushed Roman's hand in the process.

But Roman didn't pull away.

Lysan ignored Roman and looked at the seedling and its root were tangled, but there was something

different about this one.

There was a small white rose bud growing from the stem and it was fresh.

When Roman noticed that Lysan had seen the white rose, he smiled.

“Even dying things can grow,” he said quietly, just enough for only Lysan to hear. “They just need the right person to help them.”

Lysan's heartbeat accelerated in his chest.

Roman was not talking about the plant.

He was talking about him.