.·:*¨༺ Twenty-Eight ༻¨*:·.

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Getting lost in literature had always been Win's method of escape back at the J. Adams Academy and imagining these fictional characters coming to life filled him with hope when he thought everything was lost to him. As he sat down by the nook, Bright lay on his lap and listened with closed eyes as he read him one of his favorites, unconsciously running his fingers through his hair creating a soothing ambiance.

"Read another," the marquis murmured when he finished it.

Win beams down at him, he had never known that the gentleman he once thought as toplofty has this side of him that resembled his younger sister. "It is very late."

Bright reached out a hand and touched his chin. "I can listen to your voice for hours and will never grow tired of it."

"What a flatterer. How many have fallen victim to your compliments?"

"I assure you they are more than willing."

The marquis moved to sit and stared into his face, and Win stared back. For a while, they communicated only through their eyes, exchanging silent words only lovers would understand.

"I never quite understand the fascination of the ton with gothic romance novels," Bright confided without holding back. "That one you've read is not at all frightening."

"The idea is to make it suspenseful and thrilling with some sort of mysterious element, however, it will still focus on the romantic aspect," Win explained, smiling at how brutally honest Bright can be. "This one speaks of first impressions."

"And first impressions are not always deemed precise, looked at us. Your first impression of me was of a haughty noble who cares for no one but himself, was it not?"

Win looked down and murmured, "Well, your first impression of me was of an intolerable little monster..."

"That is only half true for you've left an impression on me enough to last a lifetime."

"Stop it with the flattery!"

"It is true though. Do you still recall the shoe imprint?"

Win's eyes widened at the recollection of what he did at the lawyer's office. "That was ages ago, dear sir. Do not dare say anything about it again."

The marquis laughed heartily and Win peered at his face with warmth. Moving closer, he took the initiative to kiss Bright on the lips this time. At first, the marquis was surprised by the attack but gladly welcomed it with open arms. Win was now ready to embrace all the things that had overwhelmed or frightened him before, but Bright still forced himself to take it slow. As Win's fingers inched his way to his trouser, Bright put a hand on his wrist and pulled him a few inches away.

"I thought you said you would like to remain pure before marriage?" the marquis teased.

"I never said anything like that," Win answered coyly brushing a finger to Bright's bow-shaped mouth. "You assumed it yourself."

"Why do you always have an answer to everything?"

Instead of a response, Win kissed him again and Bright welcomed it most ardently. He was anxious all at once, curious to know fully the most intimate details about him. "I want you, I yearn for you..."

Wrapping an arm around his waistline, Bright pulled him ever closer than before. "You are not going to run away after this, are you?"

Win chuckled at his words as his fingers felt around greedily for him, quickly locating and then wrapping themselves around his solid thickness, pleased and delighted at what he had found. Best of all was his irrefutable hardness; proof of the marquis's desire only to him. "Do you want me to?" He softly muttered.

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