// 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...
The absolutely gorgeous moodboard attached on the media was made by a dear friend of mine whom I can no longer find on Wattpad :3
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Thrill was passionately making out with Ignatius when Drayden walked in on them.
Ignatius shoved Thrill off of himself so hard, Thrill wasn't sure whether to hiss in pain or laugh at Ignatius' flustered face. He decided on turning to Drayden and letting out a whine.
Drayden rolled his eyes, unbothered. "Your door has a lock, use it."
Thrill sat up on the bed and made a face. "Your hands have knuckles, use them. No, not on Ignatius," he added when he saw Drayden cast a dark look at Ignatius.
Drayden ignored his brother and spoke to the other boy. "Can I get a minute with Mithril?"
Ignatius nodded before hastily jumping out of the bed.
"Don't forget the shirt," Drayden added, very helpfully.
"I – I'm not – I – I won't." Ignatius picked up his shirt from where it was strewn on the floor and rushed out of the door.
Thrill watched him leave with a smile, but then his eyes landed on Drayden and the smile fell, instantly. Because Drayden stood in front of him with a dark expression, unmoving, his gaze on... the bandages along Thrill's arms.
Fuck!
Thrill jumped to his feet and threw on his t-shirt, pretending to act like nothing was wrong. "It's just a cut from..."
Drayden's gaze was piercing. "From what?" he said through gritted teeth.
Thrill's blood ran cold. He wasn't sure if his heart was pounding in fear, or pain, or the disgust he harboured for himself. Whatever it was, it was overwhelming – he couldn't do this. He couldn't face Drayden like this!
He wanted to run. He wanted to cry.
But all he did was stay frozen as Drayden took slow, deliberate steps and came to a halt less than a foot in front of him. "Did you cut yourself?"
"Dray, I –"
Drayden raised his hand and slapped him across his cheek. Before Thrill could register the sharp sting and the ringing in his ears, let alone recover from it, a pair of arms wound around his neck and engulfed him in a tight embrace.
Thrill just stood there, barely breathing, his mind numb.
For a while, it was like time came to a halt. Thrill, who had yearned to be physically close to Drayden for as long as he could remember, was unable to register anything except the way Drayden's hold on him was like grim death, his fingers fisting around Thrill's t-shirt, his lips pressed to Thrill's shoulder, his warm breaths fanning against Thrill's skin. There was nothing romantic about it, though, it simply carried with it waves of tragedy.
