Chapter 61
Pressing a hand firmly against his pounding chest, Abel silently resolved as much. Felix smiled brightly.
“How could I? It’s our agreement.”
“Wouldn’t it be better if you took at least one day off from being angry?”
Being angry every single day was exhausting.
Especially when he was expressing that anger with his entire body.
“I’m not opening the door if you come tomorrow. So don’t.”
Ever since that day, Abel had been trying to avoid giving Felix orders whenever possible.
But if he didn’t put it this way, Felix would only stubbornly insist on coming.
“If it’s an order, then I have no choice but to obey.”
Still smiling, though the sarcasm in his words was unmistakable, Felix gave a courteous bow before leaving the room.
Click.
As soon as Felix was gone, Abel walked over to the mirror to inspect the lower lip Felix had bitten during their very first kiss.
“…Does he not want me to heal it?”
No, that couldn’t be it.
Abel had only just managed to suppress the malicious rumors surrounding Felix. Why would Felix want to provoke another round of gossip over something similar?
Then why did he bite Abel’s lip every time they kissed?
Was it simply his way of saying he hated kissing that much?
Was he so overwhelmed by his own resentment that he kissed Abel anyway, only to find it so repulsive he couldn’t bear it?
It wasn’t impossible.
But if he hated it that much, he could simply refuse.
‘Felix always overthinks things.’
To begin with, Abel couldn’t understand the logic at all—how Felix’s hostility and anger toward him had somehow culminated in kissing him.
He understood that, because of him, Felix had become the target of countless unpleasant rumors concerning both his appearance and s****l matters.
So Abel understood that kissing him had been an act of defiance born from that resentment.
But everything after that…
He didn’t understand.
How was kissing supposed to hurt Abel?
It had only been two days ago that Abel finally realized the meaning behind the way Felix stared intently at his face after every kiss.
Felix had been checking whether Abel was hurt.
‘Do you still love me?’
At first, Abel had thought Felix was finally ready to accept his apology.
But that wasn’t it.
It was simply a confirmation.
A reassurance that Abel still loved him. And that, because he did, this would wound him.
The way Felix’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly, the faint curl at the corner of his lips whenever Abel answered that he still loved him.
Abel didn’t like the fact that Felix loved him.
And yet, that smile seemed to say he was pleased by one thing nonetheless—that he could make Abel suffer because of it.
The feeling had only surfaced for a fleeting instant before being swallowed by deep self-loathing, but Abel had not forgotten that brief moment.
Which meant that, beyond causing him physical pain—refusing to pull away even when he knew Abel was running out of breath, leaving him stuck in an increasingly uncomfortable position without helping him adjust, or biting his lips—Felix also wanted to hurt him emotionally.
It was the same reason he had told Abel today to try kissing someone else.
“But why does that lead to kissing?”
Abel could understand the desire to make someone you disliked suffer, both physically and emotionally.
What he couldn’t understand was why Felix believed his kisses would hurt Abel emotionally.
Felix’s kisses certainly caught him off guard.
But they weren’t painful.
Nor were they sad.
‘If I had to choose, I’d say it was actually kind of nice.’
For one thing, he was kissing the person he loved.
More importantly, every single time they kissed, Felix laid bare his hostility toward Abel without trying to hide it.
That contradiction—engaging in such an intimate act while openly expressing how much he disliked him—was, in truth, the very thing that had first drawn Abel’s attention to Felix.
And so the situation had become a strange one.
As Felix’s negative feelings toward him continued to deepen, Abel found his own affection for Felix only growing stronger and stronger.
Part of the reason Abel was breathing so hard was psychological as well—he liked Felix so much he scarcely knew what to do with himself.
“…Should I tell Felix?”
That none of his intentions were having the slightest effect. That instead of being hurt by Felix’s kisses, they made his heart race. That every kiss they shared felt like a reward to him.
If Abel told him that he actually enjoyed those emotionless kisses filled with hatred and contempt directed at him, wouldn’t Felix stop forcing himself to do something that only disgusted him in return?
To begin with, Abel couldn’t understand why Felix insisted on doing something he himself hated just to hurt someone else.
Pressing a hand against his split lip, Abel sank into thought.
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