// Best YA Romance in the Romance Fiction Awards 2021//
Thrill Hawthorne, keeping up to his name, lives his life on the edge. Or so people think.
Ignatius Rookwood is the darling son and the sole male heir to a gigantic business corporation. Or so...
A surprisingly fast update, lol. (I really liked writing this chapter!) There are probably a gazillion typos so let me know.
There was some confusion while publishing the last chapter (chapter 12) yesterday so do make sure you haven't missed it!!
And someone send me food. :(
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"If I didn't know any better," Thrill began in his usual nonchalance as he and Ignatius walked out of the hospital, "I'd think you're making a habit out of getting me wet."
Ignatius nearly tripped over his feet. "Can you not say things like that?" he blurted.
Thrill pretended to be confused. "What? I am wet." He stretched out his arms, gesturing at his drenched t-shirt.
Ignatius huffed, then regretted it instantly as pain shot through his nose. Though his nose was fractured, it wasn't severe. The doctor put some form of splint on it and now his entire face felt swollen, itchy and achy. And let's not forget how awful he must be looking.
Ignatius wanted the earth to come and swallow him whole...
"Here." Thrill extended his bandaged arm towards Ignatius, handing him a small paper bag. "There's some antibiotics and painkillers."
Ignatius accepted it with pursed lips and head downcast. "Thanks."
"You need to stop dying on me, dude." Thrill chuckled.
Unconsciously, Ignatius reached out to lightly touch his nose. "Your brother can punch," he muttered.
Thrill burst into laughter. Ignatius watched the way his shoulders shook and the way his messy, wet hair fell on his face as he threw back his head in genuine mirth. A smile made its way to Ignatius' lips without him realizing it.
"That's the man of our house," Thrill chuckled and shook his head at his own joke.
Ignatius' smile, though, fell on hearing those words. Man of the house. He'd been hearing that ever since he could remember, and especially since the death of his father. He did not exactly know what it meant because, though his mother called him the man of the house, all he had to do was present a gentlemanly front for the world as his mother ran the entire business on her own.
"You're scarily quiet today," Thrill said as they reached the parking lot.
"What?"
Thrill eyed him with a curious smile, before shaking his head. "Nothing." He unlocked his car. "Get in, I'll drop you home."
Ignatius stared at the familiar black car. Yes, Thrill was right – it was high time he stopped getting injured in front of Thrill. He didn't want to owe him any more than he already did.
Wordlessly, the two got into the car. Thrill started the engine, turned on the AC and then, in one swift motion, took off his t-shirt and threw it at the back of the car.
