Chasing my Bestfriend × Lover의 모든 챕터: 챕터 121 - 챕터 130

DAMIEN'S POVThe first thing I registered was the weight. A familiar, comforting pressure across my chest. Then came the warmth, a living heat that seeped into my skin, chasing away the last remnants of sleep. I didn’t need to open my eyes to know who was beside me. The faint, clean scent of his shampoo, the soft texture of his hair against my chin—it was all Adrian.I let my eyes drift open. Sunlight, thick and golden, poured through the gap in the curtains, painting a stripe across the white sheet and illuminating the serene figure beside me. Adrian. He was sleeping, his face relaxed and peaceful, the corners of his lips turned up in a slight, dreaming smile. A wave of déjà vu washed over me, so potent it almost made me dizzy. This was the same scene, the very same tableau I had woken up to more than a year ago. But everything, absolutely everything, was different.That morning had been steeped in confusion, fear, and a bitter sense of betrayal. I had woken up with a pounding head

ADRIAN'S POV"Damien," I said softly as we sat on a bench in Washington Square Park, watching a street performer. "You don't have to pretend, you know. If you're not into it, you don't have to force it." My voice was quiet, but the words carried the weight of my disappointment.He turned to me, his eyes wide, a flicker of genuine apology crossing his face. "Adrian, no, I'm not pretending. I am into this. Into us. I just… I'm sorry. I really am. I'm trying to figure this out."He reached for my hand instinctively, then seemed to remember where we were and pulled back, clenching his fist. The involuntary movement stung."What is happening?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. "What is really going on? One minute you're all 'welcome home, Adrian,' and the next you're acting like we're strangers once we leave the penthouse. What is it, Damien? Just tell me."He looked away, his jaw tightening. "It's nothing, Adrian. Really. Just… adjusting. It's just a lot."I stared at him, my hea

TRISTAN'S POV The air in the car, once thick with the lingering scent of my own cologne mixed with Damien’s, now felt thin and cold, like the space between us. Only minutes ago, inside the lavish walk-in closet of our penthouse, his hands had tangled in my hair, his lips had burned a trail down my neck, and his words had promised a night of stolen passion after the Mayor’s Gala. Now, sitting beside him in the plush leather of the luxury sedan, it was as if a switch had flipped. The "friend mode" had activated, the one he reserved for public consumption, and I felt the familiar chill creep into my bones.His jaw was set, his gaze distant, fixed on something I couldn't see beyond the tinted window. He was a statue of composure, a stark contrast to the man who’d been all fire and whispers just moments before. I tried to bridge the gap, to pull him back to me, to the warmth we shared behind closed doors.“So,” I began, my voice attempting a lightness I didn't feel, “are we going to make

TRISTAN'S POV The cold night air hit me like a slap as I stumbled out of the hotel. The grand, bright hall of the Annual Mayor's Gala was now behind me, a place of glitter and pain. All I wanted was to get away. My feet moved on their own, rushing me through the quiet hotel driveway and into the vast, empty parking lot. Each step felt heavy, like I was dragging chains.My hand fumbled in my pocket for the car keys. I pulled them out, my fingers trembling as I pressed the button. A soft chirp echoed in the vast space, then another, and the bright flash of headlights showed me where the car was parked, just a few rows away. Damien’s car. Our car, I had foolishly thought.I reached it quickly, pulling the handle and practically falling into the driver’s seat. The leather felt cold against my skin. I slammed the door shut, cutting off the vast emptiness around me, though it did little to quiet the storm inside. I slumped, my head dropping forward until my forehead pressed against the coo

DAMIEN'S POVThe world tilted. My knees, usually steady and reliable, betrayed me completely. They gave out from under me, and I hit the polished marble floor of the Grand Ballroom with a dull, sickening thud. The sound was loud, a crude interruption to the soft murmur of the Gala, but I barely registered it. My entire body felt numb, heavy, as if filled with lead. All I could focus on were the moving images on the massive screen at the front of the room, usually reserved for charity appeals and corporate sponsorships. Tonight, it showed a news report, stark and terrifying: "Tragic Accident on 13th Street."My eyes were locked on the screen, seeing without truly understanding, a blur of flashing lights and twisted metal. It was a nightmare playing out in slow motion, yet too fast for my mind to grasp.A shadow fell over me. A soft, worried gasp, perfectly pitched to draw attention without being too dramatic. "Damien? My God, darling, what’s wrong?"Vivienne. Of course. Her voice, us