تسجيل الدخولThe lecture hall had emptied out completely, leaving Asher standing alone in the center aisle, paralyzed by a mixture of pure horror and a deep, burning rage.The video.Marcus hadn’t just been joking around at breakfast. He had actually recorded it. The whole thing—every single syllable of his deeply emotional, tear-soaked dedication to an inanimate piece of entryway furniture. If that video ever surfaced on the university student portal or leaked into the law department group chat, Asher’s academic career, his dignity, and his entire social reputation would evaporate into thin air. He would have to fake his own death, change his legal name, and move to a remote island where no one had ever heard of a coat rack."That absolute, scheming bastard," Asher hissed to himself, his hands curling into tight fists at his sides.Without thinking, he turned and stormed out of the lecture hall, his long strides eating up the hallway as he tracked Killian down. He didn't have to look far. Killian
The afternoon sun beat down on the red-brick facade of the university law building, casting long shadows across the bustling quad. But inside the shaded alcove where Killian had Asher pinned against the solid stone wall, the atmosphere felt entirely detached from the rest of the campus.Asher’s heart hammered furiously against his ribs, a chaotic mix of lingering adrenaline from Julian’s morning invasion and the sudden, suffocating proximity of Killian Cross. He could feel the solid warmth of Killian’s chest pressing close, the crisp scent of cedar and clean linen wrapping around him, and the heavy, undeniable intensity radiating from the dark gray eyes locked onto his."I need to tell you something," Killian had said, his voice dropping into that low, dangerous register that instantly stripped away all of Asher's usual sarcasm.Asher swallowed hard, struggling to keep his breathing steady. He tried to glare, but his expression betrayed a nervous, fluttery panic. "If this is another j
Asher stood frozen in the doorway, his hand still gripping his apartment door handle, his brain screeching to a complete halt. The hangover headache vanished instantly, replaced by a spike of pure, unadulterated panic.Sitting comfortably on his living room sofa, flipping casually through a stack of his university mail, was Julian.Asher blinked once. He blinked twice. He rubbed his eyes just to make sure the post-party alcohol poisoning wasn't treating him to a terrifying hallucination."Julian?" Asher squeaked, his voice cracking violently as he stepped backward into the hallway like he was facing a wild animal. "What... what are you doing here? How on earth did you get into my apartment?!"Julian didn't answer right away. He slowly lowered the stack of envelopes, lifted his gaze, and pinned Asher with a glare so ice-cold it could have frozen boiling water."My key," Asher stammered, his mind racing frantically through a million panicked possibilities. "Where did you even get a key?
The massive platters of steaming hash browns, eggs, and bacon sat right in front of Asher and Ethan, but neither of them touched their forks immediately. The rich, greasy aroma hit their sensitive noses, sending a brief wave of nausea that they fought back with sheer willpower.Across the table, Killian and Marcus leaned back against the red vinyl booth, looking entirely too cheerful. They exchanged a deliberate, overly polite glance before Killian folded his hands on the table with an expression of exaggerated, royal respect."Please, Your Honor," Killian said smoothly, his tone dripping with formal deference. "Do partake in the breakfast. We wouldn't want to disrespect a member of the supreme judicial council. After all, your legal expertise on shoe law and maritime furniture is unmatched."Marcus nodded solemnly, picking up his coffee cup with pinkies out. "Indeed, Mr. Judge. We are merely humble peasants in your glorious presence. Please, allow us to assist you. Do you require us
"There is no shoe law in maritime court!" Asher shouted back, slamming the remote down so hard the batteries popped out and rolled across the carpet.Marcus appeared in the doorway behind Killian, leaning sleepily against the doorframe in pajama pants, holding a half-empty glass of water. He stared at the scene for three full seconds, took a sip of water, and blinked."What," Marcus rasped out, his voice thick with exhaustion, "is happening to the judicial system at three in the morning?""The defendant," Asher said, pointing a dramatic finger straight at Marcus while fixing him with a glassy, severe glare, "has brought contraband into the courtroom. He is smuggling... sleep deprivation!""Asher," Killian said, his voice dropping into a dangerous, flat register that usually made grown men apologize immediately. "It is three-fifteenths in the morning. Put the pillowcase down. Go to sleep."Asher slowly turned his head to look at Killian, his eyes wide and tragic. He clutched the pillow
Killian slammed the guest room door open so hard it bounced off the wall, his chest heaving. Marcus skidded to a halt right behind him, ready to tackle a burglar, an intruder, or whatever life-threatening emergency had prompted a shriek of that magnitude.Instead, they found themselves staring at absolute madness.Asher was standing bolt upright in the middle of the queen-sized bed, tangled waist-deep in the floral duvet like a panicked octopus, shrieking at the top of his lungs. Ethan was kneeling right beside him, furiously beating a fluffy decorative pillow against the mattress as if trying to bludgeon an invisible enemy, roaring like a cornered grizzly bear."THEY ARE IN THE WALLS!" Asher wailed, pointing a trembling finger straight at a blank strip of wallpaper. "THE FISH ARE PLOTTING AGAINST US, ETHAN! I CAN HEAR THEIR LITTLE FINANCIAL AUDITS!""DEFEND THE PERIMETER!" Ethan yelled back, his voice cracking violently on the high notes. He swung the pillow again, missed completely,







