The Fake Son Wants to Live [BL]

Chapter 272: Chapter 272 - Standing guard

Li Wang laid there for what seemed like a decade, simply listening to his own ragged breathing. The darkness creeping in from outside the window made the room feel even heavier. It was getting late. He desperately wanted to stay and think about his feelings, yet his body protested. As if on cue, his stomach growled loudly, reminding him that he had missed all his meals for the day.

Sighing, he got up and walked out of his room, tiredly shuffling down the hall. Immediately, he felt dozens of eyes on him, but he ignored them. Slowly, he made his way to the kitchen. The space was immaculate; it seemed someone had cooked and cleaned up already.

”They ate without me... so rude,” he muttered under his breath, bending down to search through the cupboards. There were cans of beans, but he had no desire for them. Reaching further back, his hand caught something red. He stretched and fumbled until he finally pulled out a plastic package. Ramen. His eyes gleamed.

”Ohh... it’s been so long, my friend,” he whispered, hugging the packet to his chest. Quickly, he heated water and began cooking, adding a few lettuce leaves from the garden behind the house to make it more nutritious. He hummed softly, genuinely happy for the first time all day, unaware that someone stood behind him silently watching.

”I left food by your door,” a soft voice whispered.

Li Wang jumped, his hands trembling as he almost poured the broth into a bowl. He watched in slow motion as his carefully prepared noodles slipped from the pan. Gasps left his lips, frozen in panic. But before a single drop hit the counter, a slender hand caught the saucepan mid-air. Not a drop of broth spilled.

”Careful,” the voice said, soft and firm. ”You have to be careful with heated things. Your human hands can’t tolerate this.”

Li Wang froze, staring up at the golden eyes watching him. His chest tightened. He had almost burned his hands, and yet, here was someone... effortlessly protecting him. He could barely speak. ”Th-thank you,” he stammered, his voice small, almost embarrassed.

The hand withdrew, placing the pan safely back on the stove. ”You need to be careful,” the person said quietly, peering at Li Wang’s trembling hands.

Li Wang nodded quickly, rubbing his hands together as if to convince himself he was fine. Yet, his heart was still racing, and he found himself stealing glances at the figure standing so close behind him. There was something about the quiet presence, the gentle gaze—it made him feel both uneasy and strangely safe at the same time.

”Y-yeah... I’ll be more careful,” he muttered.

Li Wang awkwardly took the bowl, his hands slightly trembling. Wait... I almost dropped it because of this man... he scolded himself silently, glancing at the empty space where Celaus had stood. A small flare of irritation rose in him, and he shot a brief glare at the spot, as if that would somehow chastise the golden-eyed figure.

Celaus, noticing the tension, quietly stepped back and maintained a careful distance. ”I’m sorry if I interfered with your work,” he murmured softly, his voice low and cautious. Then he turned and left, leaving Li Wang blinking at the now-empty kitchen. At least the man was keeping his distance, he thought, letting out a faint scoff.

Sitting down, Li Wang lifted the bowl of noodles and began to eat, trying to focus on the steaming meal in front of him. He ate with relish, savoring the warmth and familiarity of the food, yet an unusual, creeping guilt made it hard for him to fully enjoy it. Why does just his presence make me... he shook his head, forcing himself to concentrate on the noodles.

He finished as quickly as he could, wiped the counter, and cleaned up the kitchen before retreating to his room.

Strangely, Eren, Varon, and even Nansich didn’t follow him inside. They had learned to give him space after all these years, but now the quiet absence felt heavier than usual. Space he needed, yes—but it left a hollow in the room. A pang of loneliness crept over him.

He sat on his bed, staring at the dim light filtering through the window. For so long, he had lodged with the others, grown used to Nansich’s gentle snores, the sleepy antics of his hands flailing over him or nudging at his legs in the night. Those small, familiar sounds had become part of the rhythm that let him sleep.

Now, without that constant presence, the silence felt too loud. Without the familiar breathing beside him, he couldn’t fall asleep. He curled up, hugging his knees, letting the quiet stretch around him like a weight. The thought of Celaus—of the golden eyes and that faint, careful concern—lingered in his mind, mingling strangely with the emptiness.

Li Wang closed his eyes tightly, trying to force rest, but the absence of sound, of motion, made the room feel impossibly vast and his heart, somehow, a little too exposed.

He fitfully slept through the night, twisting and turning beneath his blankets. He muttered softly in his sleep, small fragmented sighs escaping his lips, and sometimes, almost imperceptibly, his hands twitched as if reaching for someone.

Outside the door, Celaus stood silently, his tall frame leaning just slightly against the wooden frame. His golden eyes were fixed on the door, attentive to every tiny sound from inside. The faint rustle of blankets, the shallow, uneven breaths—he took it all in, his chest tightening with a quiet ache he didn’t fully understand.

One of the soldiers, noticing his unwavering vigil, approached hesitantly. ”Your Highness... perhaps you should rest. You’ve been through so much today.”

Celaus shook his head softly, his voice barely above a whisper. ”I cannot sleep. Not while he sleeps like this... not while my mate is unsettled.”

”But it’s the middle of the night,” the soldier pressed gently, ”your body—”

”I said no,” Celaus interrupted, firm but low, his eyes never leaving the door. ”I will stand here. I will guard him.”