What was this feeling?

No.

Not just this feeling.

All of it.

Why had all of this ended up inside him?

"Blake."

Looking into those dark eyes felt like staring straight into a bottomless pit.

Why did his chest hurt so badly?

Why did something ugly twist tighter and tighter beneath his ribs every time Myles looked at him like that?

Blake’s throat burned.

His neck should have hurt too, considering Myles had a hand wrapped around it, but strangely, the grip itself wasn’t painful. Firm, yes, but not cruel.

Not enough to explain why Blake suddenly felt incapable of breathing properly.

His lungs expanded too shallowly, so air went in wrong.

’Why...?’

Only something like this he never expected to happen, because it’s not as if he knew how much, or even just what Myles actually felt for him.

That kiss, it was supposed to prove something good...

So why did it seem like the complete opposite?

Blake lowered his gaze instinctively.

A hand immediately came up to scrub beneath his eyes before the tears could fully fall.

Pathetic.

"What you’re doing is pointless."

Myles’ voice came low and cold.

Then fingers slightly dug against Blake’s jaw, forcing his head back up.

"If you can’t live up to your lies."

Blake’s breath caught.

Those eyes again.

It felt like Myles could see everything. Every ugly layer underneath him, every hesitation, every contradiction Blake himself didn’t know how to untangle anymore.

And hearing those words from him specifically hurt more than it should have.

"But I never lied..."

The protest sounded weak even to his own ears.

Because hadn’t this entire thing started from a lie?

The confession.

The missions.

The favorability system.

Every step toward Myles had originally been calculated.

So why did it feel so unbearable now?

"Then why are you looking at me like that?"

Myles’ voice raised just slightly, it wasn’t particularly loud, still, Blake flinched.

For a second, it even looked like he was about to say something else.

His jaw tightened. His expression shifted strangely, like he also didn’t know how to express himself.

Then he stopped.

Because Blake was staring at him like he’d been struck. 𝑓𝑟ℯ𝘦𝓌𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝑐ℴ𝓂

Slowly, Myles released him. Then, he turned away and started walking.

"No...!"

The word escaped Blake before he realized he’d spoken.

It was strangely loud, especially since, just a moment ago, his throat was hurting like it had been stabbed.

But Myles didn’t stop, so panic hit instantly.

Blake’s fingers twitched uselessly at his sides.

He couldn’t let him leave.

He just couldn’t.

’Does he really think everything was fake?’

What made him feel sick was the realization that some part of him believed he had every right to think that way.

Because objectively, wasn’t he correct?

Everything had started because of the missions.

Because of objectives.

Because Blake had needed something from him.

A false confession.

Fake affection.

Calculated closeness.

And somewhere along the way, Blake had become the idiot who could no longer separate any of it from himself.

Unlike Myles, who can act average and then ruin a building.

At least, Blake thought he could do the same, with no strings attached.

He lowered his head as cold anxiety began creeping up his spine.

’Of course this was hopeless from the start.’

Maybe Myles had never believed him at all.

No, that didn’t make sense.

The last favorability level he’d seen was thirteen.

It had increased.

Hadn’t it?

’Unless...’

Blake’s breathing suddenly faltered.

Unless it had dropped again.

Unless all this time Myles had only been pretending.

[ Fear Is For The Unloved! (C) activated ]

The notification flashed through his head violently enough to make his stomach twist.

’Then that means...’

His thoughts spiraled instantly.

’That means he never stopped thinking of me that way, not even for a second.’

That smile.

That beautiful smile Myles gave him, had that been fake too?

Had he only been humoring him?

Manipulating him back?

"No..."

The word came out breathless.

Blurred vision swallowed the edges of the room.

Myles couldn’t leave him here.

Not now.

Not him.

Not the only person who had ever made this world feel remotely real.

"Myles!"

His voice cracked apart halfway through the name.

Myles stopped walking.

"Don’t go..."

Those words ringed in his head at the same time, so, suddenly, breathing became impossible.

But the one that spoke inside him, it wasn’t his voice.

It was Myles’.

Pain exploded behind his eyes.

His chest seized.

He inhaled sharply only for the breath to collapse halfway in.

His heartbeat slammed so hard against his ribs it hurt.

It was way too fast, so much so everything around him tilted nauseatingly.

His fingers started shaking first.

Then his arms.

Then everything.

He couldn’t breathe.

His knees buckled beneath him, but before he hit the ground, strong arms caught him immediately.

"Blake."

Myles’ voice cut through the chaos sharply enough to anchor him for half a second.

A hand covered Blake’s mouth carefully.

"Breathe through your nose."

Blake shook violently.

His lungs felt locked shut.

"In."

One hand slid behind Blake’s neck, fingers pressing there firmly.

"Slowly."

Blake tried, but failed.

Then, he tried again.

Pain stabbed through his chest hard enough to make him want to curl inward.

Everything blurred strangely around the edges.

The trees.

The flowers.

The clouds.

But not Myles.

"Inhale again."

Myles’ voice remained low and controlled, but Blake could see the tension in him now too.

The veins standing out faintly beneath his skin.

The tightness in his jaw.

The way he held Blake just a little too firmly.

Blake dragged in another breath through his nose.

It was shaky and uneven, but enough.

Then another.

His breathing stuttered violently before beginning slowly, painfully, to stabilize.

Myles kept him upright the entire time.

One arm wrapped securely around him.

The other hand still against his face, holding him together.

Eventually the crushing pressure in Blake’s chest loosened enough for him to stop feeling like he was actively dying.

His heartbeat still pounded painfully fast.

His hands still trembled.

But he could breathe again.

Myles looked down at him silently for several long seconds.

Then he spoke.

"You become weak every time things stop going your way."

The words themselves sounded cold.

But his voice didn’t.

And after saying them, Myles sighed softly, almost tiredly, like he was more frustrated with himself than Blake.

Blake’s eyes burned again immediately.

"Myles..."

His voice shook.

"Myles... Myles..."

But no actual sentence followed.

Because what could he even say now?

Could he tell him he loved him?

The thought tightened his throat painfully.

Why was saying those words suddenly terrifying, even after screaming them?

This was supposed to be a mission first, wasn’t it?

Then why did none of it feel fake anymore?

Why did Myles feel so painfully real?

’I shouldn’t have tried to understand him this much...’

Blake swallowed shakily.

’Damn it, damn it!’

Myles suddenly lifted one hand and cupped Blake’s face.

He tilted his head upward until their faces were close again.

Blake’s breathing nearly destabilized all over again.

"Even if it’s a lie..."

Myles’ thumb brushed slowly beneath Blake’s eyes, wiping away the remnants of tears.

The touch was gentle enough to hurt.

"If you take my hand again right now," he said quietly, "you won’t be able to take it back."

Blake stared at him.

His pulse stumbled unevenly.

"What does that mean?"

Myles didn’t answer immediately.

Instead, he reached into his pocket, pulled out a tissue, and began wiping Blake’s face properly with an almost undetectable irritation in his eyes.

His tears.

The wetness around his eyes.

Even all the snot.

He really cleaned him well.

And, the entire time, Myles avoided looking directly at him.

But his hands betrayed him completely.

They were careful and patient, most of all, they were making him feel warm, although they were actually so cold.

After finishing, he finally looked at him again.

"Just, don’t do something you’ll regret."

His grip around Blake’s wrist tightened slightly.

Then it loosened.

But then it tightened again.

"Especially if it doesn’t align with your objective."

The words struck directly through Blake’s chest.

Because the way Myles said it, it sounded like he had always believed there was another motive hidden beneath Blake’s actions.

Like he had never once fully trusted him.

And yet, why would he say that?

Why would he warn him like that unless he meant it?

Unless this mattered to him too?

Thump.

Blake’s chest hurt again, differently this time.

’My feelings aren’t that fake, after all.’

A weak, miserable laugh escaped him.

Honestly, even without the missions, even without the system, he still didn’t think he could leave Myles alone anymore.

What a disaster.

’He’s the final boss, but I’m a bastard too, can’t deny.’

Blake reached toward him again, then took Myles’ hand anyway.

Warm fingers immediately intertwined with his.

There was no hesitation or pause.

And Myles stilled, as if he had already been waiting for him to walk away.

But somehow, he looked even more frustrated than before.