Onyx's POV
Hours later, I sat in the living room with my laptop open, attempting to focus on my work—but my attention refused to cooperate.
From Pa's room came laughter. Tools clinking. Jace's dramatic commentary. Pa's delighted voice.
They were having too much fun.
They finished my room first. Then Pa's.
"Wow! After so long, I can finally sleep with air conditioning again!" Pa said happily. "Thank you, Jace."
They stepped out, still talking.
"To return the favor, I'll get another bed for Onyx's room since you're staying here," Pa said. "So you don't have to squeeze together."
"Don't bother, Pa!" Jace replied quickly. "I'm fine sleeping in the same bed with Boss." He glanced at me. "We're fine with it, right?"
"Don't drag me into this," I said flatly without looking up. "I'm busy."
"This boy," Pa muttered fondly. "By the way, Jace, you might have to sleep with Onyx again tonight. The extra mattress sheet smells strange."
"Oh no?" Jace gasped dramatically. "Why?"
I narrowed my eyes slightly.
Suspicious.
"I'm not sure what happened," Pa continued. "It's like something bad always happens to that mattress. But I washed it, again, for the third time. Hopefully tomorrow it's fine."
I had my theories, just no proof.
"Are you two done?" I asked. "I'm getting sleepy."
"Yup! All good," Pa said. "We turned on the air conditioner in your room already. It should be chilly."
"Okay."
I closed my laptop and walked to my room.
The moment I entered, cool air brushed against my skin.
For a second, it felt like we were back in the old days. Before debts. Before silence. Before everything shrank.
I looked up at the new air conditioner.
It offended me.
Not because it was there.
But because it felt like something was changing again.
Jace walked in behind me and immediately threw himself onto my bed.
"Ah! Finally!" he said, stretching like this was his property.
"You really took advantage of Pa," I said.
"I had to," he replied easily. "You wouldn't agree. And did you see how happy he was?"
I said nothing.
"Come, Boss," he said, patting the bed as he grinned.
I placed my laptop on the desk.
"How much did you pay for the air conditioners?" I asked.
"Don't worry about it," he said casually. "Money isn't an issue for me. Let's rest. It's been a long day. Turn off the lights for me."
I stared at him.
"Please, Boss," he added with a grin.
I looked away quickly because he looked ridiculous.
And if I laughed, he would win.
So I turned off the lights.
Moonlight slipped through the window, faint and silver.
I lay down beside him, positioning myself stiffly—as if placed inside a coffin. Arms straight. Distance calculated.
The air was cold, and the room had fallen into a kind of silence that felt heavier than it should have been.
In that stillness, Pa's words began to resurface—slowly, persistently. A new family. A new child. Less focus. And yet, he said I will always be his little boy.
Earlier, I had told him not to worry.
Now, lying here in the dark beside someone who felt too warm in a room that was too cold—I wasn't sure how I felt.
"You seem deep in thought," Jace said.
I turned my head slightly.
He was already facing me.
Not flat on his back like before. Not pretending indifference. His body was angled toward mine, one arm tucked under his pillow, the other resting loosely over the blanket. The moonlight cut across his face, outlining the sharp line of his nose, the relaxed curve of his lips.
He had been watching me.
"Just trying to force myself to sleep," I replied evenly. "I'm counting sheep."
"Are you bothered about what Pa said to you?" he asked.
"Huh? What do you mean?" I asked back.
"I heard everything," he said quietly. "The new woman. The possibility of him having a new family."
I frowned slightly.
"Wait. Didn't you say you were coming home late?" I asked.
"I was already in front of the door," he admitted. "I was about to knock when I heard Pa talking. I figured he needed to tell you that privately first." He paused, then added lightly, "Do you think I don't know how to read the room?"
I sighed and looked back at the ceiling. The air conditioner hummed softly above us, cold air brushing against my skin.
"So," he continued, voice calmer now, "how do you feel? Are you sad?"
"No."
He didn't respond right away.
"Imagine Pa having a new kid," he went on. "Really focusing on his new family. Where will that leave you? You can't stay with him forever. Soon, you'll have to leave."
"I know," I said. "I'll plan it soon. I want him to focus on his new family."
There. Logical. Practical. Clean.
"Should I start looking for an apartment we can rent?" he asked casually.
I turned my head.
"We?" I repeated.
"Yes, we," he said proudly. "Pa said it's good to have me around."
I shook my head, a smirk tugging at my lips despite myself.
"It's just one semester," I said, keeping my voice steady even though it felt like something fragile was splintering inside my chest. "You'll graduate soon. You'll have your own life. Start on a professional job. New circles. New priorities."
I sighed deeply.
"You'll forget we ever had a connection," I continued. "And I'll make it easy for you. I'll cut off ties. No dramatic goodbyes. No lingering messages. I'll just... quietly disappear."
"I don't think so," he said.
"What do you mean?"
"I don't think you get to leave that easily," he replied.
There was no laughter in his voice. No teasing edge. Just certainty.
"Once you step through my door," he continued, eyes locking onto mine as if sealing something invisible between us, "you're stuck with me for the rest of your life."
He said it like a fact. Like gravity. Like something already written. And for the first time, the idea of disappearing didn't feel simple anymore.
"Sounds like I made a terrible decision," I said dryly. "Did I?"
"Suffer the consequences," he said. "Actually, I was thinking, not just me, but we could delay graduation. Retake the Database Management Unit. Work on the Capstone project again and again." He grinned faintly. "That way we won't have to leave each other. We can keep doing it until we're old."
I almost laughed.
"Are you crazy? What kind of plan is that?"
He didn't laugh with me.
He just kept looking at me with that slight smirk, as if he wasn't entirely joking.
"What now?" I asked.
"I remember your mom is still alive, right?" he asked.
"Mm. Why?"
"Do you know where is she right now?"
"Probably somewhere she doesn't have to think about problems. Wherever she is, I'm sure she's doing fine."
"If you had to choose one," he said, "who would it be? Pa or your mom?"
I stared back at the ceiling.
There wasn't even a pause in my answer.
"Pa," I said softly. "No doubt. When everything fell apart, when we went broke, he stayed. He didn't leave me. Even when he had nothing, he made sure I was okay. I was his priority."
"And you don't hate your mom?" Jace asked. "If I were you, I'd despise her for leaving."
"I'm not like you," I said calmly. "I don't think impulsively. I consider consequences. She chose herself. I'm not in a position to stop her from living the life she wants. I'm just her son. I don't control her decisions."
"Still," he muttered, "if she really loved you, she should've stayed."
"She does love me," I said. "She messages sometimes. She never forgets me. She offers help. I just refuse it."
"Yeah. That's the spirit," he said lightly. Then his tone shifted. "But what a situation, huh? Your mom has her own life. Pa's about to build a new family. Soon both of them will have their own worlds." He looked at me directly. "Where will you be then?"
I swallowed.
He was right.
When Pa remarried—when there was a new wife, maybe a new child—where would I fit?
I had said earlier that I wasn't worried.
Now, in the dark, with the cold air pressing against my skin, that certainty felt thinner.
A faint sting formed behind my eyes.
I refused it.
"Are you trying to make me feel bad?" I asked.
"Are you feeling bad?" he countered. "Do you want to cry? Go ahead. I want to see you cry at least once. I want to see you act like a human being." His voice sharpened slightly. "Not like a robot who just absorbs everything and moves on."
I stared harder at the ceiling, the pale moonlight washing it in silver.
"If I weren't here," he continued more quietly, "you'd feel sad."
"Don't assume I can't handle things without you," I said.
"I know you can," he replied. "You like being alone. But I think it'll hurt more when the time comes." He paused. "I know how you would feel. So when it does—when it finally hits—I'll be here. Even if you try to push me away."
Silence followed.
I turned my head.
His eyes were closed now. His breathing slower. Steadier.
Almost asleep.
"If one day you're not Pa's favorite little boy anymore," he murmured, his voice dropping into something quieter—softer than I'd ever heard it, "you'll still be someone else's favorite. Don't worry."
His lips curved faintly, not teasing this time. Not playful.
"You'll be my favorite person, Boss."
The word settled between us—light, almost careless—but the way he said it felt anything but.
I scoffed automatically, because that was easier. Easier than acknowledging the warmth rising to my ears. Easier than admitting that the space inside my chest, the one that had been hollow all night, didn't feel as empty anymore.
Favorite person.
It was a dangerous word.
And somehow, he said it like it had already been decided.
My lips curved.
He didn't see it.
I made sure he didn't.
For some reason, that simple sentence felt warmer than the air conditioner was cold.
The strange part?
The person I once planned to cut off after this semester—the one I thought would be temporary—was starting to feel... permanent.
"Thanks, Jace," I said quietly.
"No problem, Boss. Good night," he replied.
But there was something he didn't know.
He didn't know who I truly was.
If he ever found out—if he discovered everything I kept hidden—would he still look at me the same way?
Would he still stay?
Or would he leave too?
Because no matter how much I tried to treat him as temporary—something to be removed once this semester ended—his presence had already integrated itself into my routine.
A part of my plan.
A part of me.
Not disruptive. Not chaotic.
Just... constant.
And that was the problem.
Systems are easier to manage when variables remain predictable.
Jace was not predictable.
And yet—somehow, he was already becoming something I did not know how to remove.
End of Chapter 26