Surviving A Novel I Don't Remember: A Tutor's Guide To Staying Alive
Chapter 125: It’s not my fault
Julian reached up into his hair, his fingers finding the small, delicate thing the Duke had tucked there. It was a flower he hadn’t heard of before, so he decided to check with the system,
> [Item: Lunavelle Iris.]
> [Item Description: A rare and delicate flower with soft petals. Under direct sunlight, it holds a rich, regal violet, but as the light softens or the moon rises, a cool blue undertone begins to surface, as if the flower is quietly changing allegiance between day and night. It grows in places where time is thin, like ancient tombs, forgotten gardens, and hidden forests.]
And this blue happened to match the color of one of Julian’s eyes. And the violet definitely matches his purple eye as well.
Just where did the Duke get such a flower?
Julian didn’t think much of it. Rather, he sniffed it, reeling in the Duke’s intentions and nothing more.
He sniffed the flower. The scent was delicate and elusive, a blend of night air, rain-soaked stone, and a hint of sweetness that lingers just out of reach.
It was just the kind of flower one would want to sniff when their lover confessed to wanting to spend all of eternity with them.
He guessed the Duke was quite the Romantic.
Julian had no idea that from the moment the Duke discovered Julian might love gardens so much that he was happy to have an evening stroll in the forbidden garden where many rare flowers bloomed, he decided to fill his own garden with rare flowers.
Specifically, ones that complemented Julian in every way possible.
...
The warm water did little to settle Julian’s racing pulse. Every time he closed his eyes, he felt the Duke’s rough palms on his waist or heard the low, possessive rumble of his voice.
He scrubbed his skin, something he hadn’t been able to do for himself all week, as if he could wash away the lingering heat of the carriage, but the memory of Alaric’s confession was etched too deep.
His body shuddered, and before he knew it, thanks to the memory of the Duke’s touch, he got an erection.
He stared at his dick, twisting his lips in skepticism as he wondered how he had gotten to this level.
It seemed like what the Duke had done to him in the carriage still had an effect on his body. He shoved his hand over his hair, brushing the water back, and let out a soft flowing breath.
And tonight, as well, the Duke was going to do so much more. He believed.
And so, in preparation for that, he decided to clean up properly, making sure there was no part of his body that had a spec of dirt, especially down there, where he believed the Duke would ’play with’.
It was a chore, one he absolutely had to do, because he couldn’t see himself lying comfortably and spreading his legs when down there wasn’t thoroughly clean.
Before now, he couldn’t even imagine having such thoughts. He didn’t even fantasize about a woman, not to talk of himself acting as the woman. If his past self saw him now, he would definitely hiss and shake his head.
’It’s not my fault,’ Julian thought, the water flowing over his face from the shower head. ’I just... really want to do it with Lucien.’
By the time Julian stepped out of the bathroom, he was confident enough to say that his body was as pure as jade.
He wore a loose, silk robe of pale cream, and found that the room had somehow... transformed.
The fireplace crackled warmly, and a small table had been set with a platter of honey-glazed nuts, sharp cheeses, and a tray of the sweet tarts the kitchen knew the Duke favored.
In the center sat a bottle of deep crimson wine, already uncorked.
Alaric was waiting, standing by the balcony doors. He had taken his bath and was wearing a robe that made his broad shoulders look even more imposing. He noticed Julian and turned his head, his gaze traveling from the damp tips of Julian’s dark hair down to the hem of his silk robe.
"Lucien," Julian called softly.
"You took your time," Alaric noted, his voice smooth and dangerous.
The way his eyes roamed over Julian made Julian feel strangely aware of his own body, and he pursed his lips.
"I had a lot to think about," Julian replied, darting his eyes down. And a lot to clean too.
Alaric walked to the center table and poured two glasses of the wine, the liquid looking like liquid rubies in the firelight.
Then, he lifted them and stretched one towards Julian.
"Here," he said, and Julian accepted it.
This made him think about that night. The night the Duke got him drunk and did ’things’ to him. Things he enjoyed without meaning to. But it was still without his consent, so he wondered if the Duke would eventually own up to it and apologize, or if he planned to take it to his grave.
Julian took a slow sip of the wine, the sweetness coating his tongue, but his eyes remained fixed on the Duke over the rim of the glass. The firelight danced in Alaric’s blue eyes, making them look as deep and unyielding as the northern seas.
The weight of that assumed forgotten night sat between them, a silent passenger in the room.
Julian knew the Duke was a man of absolute integrity in all things—except, perhaps, when it came to his possessiveness over the person he loved.
"The wine is good," Julian said, his voice a bit steadier than he felt. "It reminds me of the second time we shared a bottle. Perhaps two bottles. Although my memory of that evening is... fragmented."
Alaric didn’t flinch, but the hand holding his wine glass tightened just a fraction.
Julian wanted to be the judge here. He threw the rope of confession; now it was left for the duke, whether to grab it or watch it fall.
He watched Alaric set the glass down on the table and stepped into Julian’s space, the scent of fresh cedar and cool air following him. He reached out, his thumb catching a stray drop of wine on Julian’s lower lip.
"I am not a man who hides from his sins, Julian," Alaric murmured, his voice dropping into a low, gravelly tone. He leaned down, his forehead resting against Julian’s. "I told myself that night was a mistake born of curiosity. I told myself I was only checking. But the truth is much simpler: I wanted you then, and I was too cowardly to ask for what I desired from a man who wasn’t yet mine."
Julian looked into the duke’s eyes. He was being honest.
"Did you... Do something to me while I was drunk?"