Ficorpio
Chapter 1
Deep into the night, a man sat on the balcony with a paintbrush in his hand. An unfinished painting stood before him, but his gaze had drifted to the moon hanging in the distance.
Its light was clear and bright. In the middle of the restless city, it seemed to exist apart from everything else.
A night breeze slipped through the open window, stirring the thin curtains behind him. Beneath the wash of moonlight, the man’s features emerged by degrees—striking enough to make a person fall for him at first sight.
His tousled hair nearly covered his eyes. The outer corners of those eyes were long and narrow, their single lids giving them a quiet, distant beauty. His lashes fluttered in the moonlight like butterfly wings, and a small dark mole marked the right side of his straight nose.
Sitting there in silence, he looked as though he belonged inside the painting itself, placed there for people to admire and praise.
Then the front door opened, shattering the stillness.
The house had been completely dark, but the harsh hallway light spilled inside and faintly illuminated the room. A man carrying a briefcase stepped through the door, exhaustion written across his face. He paused when he saw the darkness and the figure on the balcony.
“Adrian, why didn’t you turn on the lights?”
Adrian Bennett tilted his head toward him. “You’re home.”
Then, answering the question, he added, “I didn’t feel like turning them on.”
Ethan Sterling toed off his shoes as he muttered, “How can you sit in the dark? I’m turning them on, okay?”
Adrian picked up some paint and added a few strokes to the canvas. “Okay.”
Under the light, the painting revealed a breathtaking scene.
Ethan set his briefcase on the table. A moment later, he came up behind Adrian and wrapped his arms around him.
A strong wave of perfume filled the air. Adrian’s brow tightened, but the tension vanished almost immediately.
Ethan held him close, resting his chin in the hollow of Adrian’s neck like a cat. Looking at the nearly finished painting, he said, “You still love roses as much as ever.”
Adrian did not move. He let Ethan hold him and called his name instead. “Ethan.”
“Mm.” Ethan turned his head and kissed Adrian’s cheek.
“The perfume on you is very strong.”
Rose.
The scent belonged to that man.
Ethan froze for an instant and released him almost reflexively.
“Is it?” he asked, apparently unaware of anything unusual. He lifted his arm and sniffed himself, murmuring in confusion, “I don’t smell anything.”
Adrian was sensitive to strong scents, so Ethan said, “I’ll take a shower, then. It’s cold and windy out here. Don’t stay on the balcony too long.”
Chapter 2
Adrian did not turn around. He answered with a quiet “Mm” and continued moving his brush across the canvas.
The bathroom door opened and closed. Only when the sound of the shower began did Adrian stop painting.
He stared at the work he had titled The Rose in the Mist. A wave of displeasure rose in his chest.
Roses.
They had once been his favorite thing.
Now they had become the thing he hated most.
He took the painting down and tore it into pieces before throwing it, without mercy, into the trash.
Adrian no longer felt like creating anything. His thoughts were a tangled mess. He had just lain down on the sofa, hoping to calm himself, when Ethan’s phone began vibrating on the table.
For one terrible moment, Adrian wanted to smash it.
He picked up Ethan’s phone and unlocked it. An incoming call immediately filled the screen.
The caller was Caleb Hayes—the owner of the rose-scented perfume.
Adrian did not answer. He carried the phone to the bathroom and knocked once.
“What is it, Adrian?” Ethan called from inside.
Adrian’s expression remained unchanged, but his foul mood was obvious as he stared at the call that still had not ended. Lifting his eyes, he said, “Someone’s calling you.”
“Answer it for me,” Ethan replied. The shower continued to run in the background. “I’m not exactly in a position to pick up.”
“Okay.”
Adrian turned and walked into the bedroom before accepting the call.
The moment the line connected, Caleb’s voice came through.
“Honey~ Are you home yet?”
His tone was intimate and eager, like a newlywed calling the person he could barely bear to be apart from.
Adrian stared at the dark bedroom. His calm was so complete that it became frightening.
“It’s me,” he said. “Adrian Bennett.”
Caleb’s tone did not change in the slightest. “Oh, Adrian. Is Ethan home?”
“Thank you for being so concerned about my boyfriend,” Adrian said.
Caleb laughed softly. “Of course I am. He only left a little while ago, and I already miss him. He really is impossible not to think about.”
“I even sprayed him with a new perfume today,” Caleb continued, his voice edged with provocation. “Rose-scented.”
“You must love it.”
Adrian said nothing.
Caleb went on, utterly unrestrained. “Using your favorite thing to disgust you. Isn’t that fun?”
“When the night falls, it’s time to leave the stage.”
“Good night, once-brilliant prodigy. I’ll miss you.”
The call ended.
Adrian kept the phone against his ear until the display changed automatically and the silence confirmed that the line was dead. Through it all, his expression never shifted.
The screen went dark. He did not move until the bathroom door opened.
Adrian deleted the call history before Ethan came over and pulled him into a tight embrace.
The clean, delicate scent of gardenia surrounded him. Somehow, it eased Adrian’s mood a little.
“Who was calling so late?” Ethan asked. He had not brought his phone with him.
Chapter 3
“No one,” Adrian replied. “A spam call.”
Ethan took the phone from him and looked over. “You seem upset.”
“Have I ever seemed any other way?” Adrian tilted his head slightly, as though emphasizing the point. “For decades, I’ve always been like this.”
The words struck something inside Ethan, leaving a dull ache behind.
They had been together for eight years, ever since they fell in love at college. They shared a bed and a home. Both their families supported the relationship. They could have remained happy for a very long time.
If Adrian had not reminded him, Ethan might almost have forgotten.
Adrian Bennett had suffered from lifelong depression.
His boyfriend had never been someone who smiled easily.
Ethan blinked, forcing down the bitterness rising in his throat. He took Adrian’s hand and said, “What are you talking about? You’re not like that. You’re special to me. You’re different from everyone else.”
Adrian’s face remained expressionless. His lashes fluttered once, lightly. Then he pulled free of Ethan’s embrace and withdrew his hand.
“Okay. I’m tired. I’m going to bed.”
He walked past Ethan, leaving him frozen in place, and went to the bed. Without the slightest hesitation, he opened the bedside drawer, took out his medication, swallowed it, and pulled back the covers.
He did not spare Ethan even a glance.
The sight brought Ethan back to the beginning, to the time when he had first pursued Adrian.
Back then, Adrian had worn exactly the same expression.
Ethan had been terrified.
The following afternoon, Adrian went to meet Daniel Mercer.
Daniel had been his roommate and classmate throughout all four years of college. They had studied together in the University School of Design and remained close ever since.
The two men sat in one of the coffee shops they often visited.
It had a relaxed atmosphere, decorated in warm shades of brown that made the place feel quiet and comfortable. Winter was approaching in the southern city, and wind rushed past the windows outside. The afternoon sun hung low in the sky, spilling orange-gold light over every corner of the city.
It should have been a beautiful scene.
Instead, the coffee shop was repeatedly disturbed by the sound of a grown man crying.
The place was crowded, and because of the noise, customers kept glancing toward the two men seated beside the floor-to-ceiling windows.
“Why would she do this to me?” Daniel sobbed, paying no attention to the people staring.
Adrian did not answer. Daniel wiped at his tears and continued on his own.
“I treated her so well, and she ran off with another man!”