Julius didn't stay long. He barely heard the rest of the conversation in the ballroom. Voices blurred together into a meaningless hum. Faces passed without meaning.
Even Helen's presence beside him felt distant. Wrong. Everything felt wrong. He adjusted his cuff once, then again. His movements were precise but restless.
"You're not listening." Helen's voice was quiet, but firm. "I am," Julius replied. But he wasn't. Not even close.
Every nerve in his body was tuned to a frequency he didn't want to acknowledge. He could feel the eyes on his back. A predatory weight that hadn't left him since he stepped back inside.
"You've been distracted all night," she continued. She was studying him carefully. "If something is bothering you, you can tell me."
Julius forced himself to meet her eyes. "I said I'm fine." Too sharp. Helen noticed.
Before she could respond, he stepped back slightly. He was already creating distance. "Excuse me," he said. "I need to leave."
Helen blinked. "Leave? Now?" "I have something to handle," Julius replied calmly. He didn't wait for her answer.
He didn't look back. He moved through the crowd quickly. His pace was controlled but urgent. It felt like a race. Like if he didn't leave now, something would snap.
The moment he stepped out into the quieter hallway, he exhaled sharply. Finally. Quiet. But it didn't help.
It was still there. That feeling. That pressure. That presence. Julius clenched his jaw.
He pushed open the door to the private restroom. The lights flicked on automatically. Cold. Bright. Empty.
He stepped inside and walked straight to the sink. He gripped the edge tightly. His reflection met his gaze. Composed on the surface. But not convincing enough.
Not to himself. "Get a grip," he muttered under his breath. He turned on the water. He splashed it onto his face. Once. Twice.
The cold helped. But not enough. He lifted his head slowly. Water dripped down his jaw as he stared at his reflection again.
His breathing was still uneven. His chest was still tight. And that, that was what irritated him the most. Because he knew exactly why.
He didn't need to turn around. He felt it before it happened. That shift in the air. That quiet weight settling into the room like it belonged there.
Like something was wrapping around him again. Julius's hands tightened on the edge of the sink. "…Can you stop?"
The words came out low. Controlled. But edged with irritation. Silence behind him.
Julius lifted his head slightly. His eyes locked onto the mirror. And there he was. Standing behind him. Calm. Unbothered.
Like this was expected. Julius straightened slowly. He turned to face him fully now. Water still clung to his skin.
But he didn't bother wiping it away. "Can you stop spreading it?" he said sharply. "Or is that something you do on purpose?"
Harrison didn't answer immediately. That alone made the irritation rise faster. "You know exactly what you're doing," Julius continued.
"So stop using it like that." Still nothing. Just that steady gaze. Julius let out a short breath. Frustration was building.
"Keep it under control." "Or keep your distance." A pause. Then, "It's affecting you."
The calm response landed clean. Julius's expression hardened. "That's not your concern." "It is when you react like this."
"I'm not reacting," Julius snapped. Harrison took a step closer. Not rushed. Never rushed.
"You are," he said quietly. Julius shook his head once. Sharp. "No."
"What you're doing is forcing a reaction." Another step. Closer. "You didn't have to follow me," Julius added.
"Or is that part of it too?" Harrison stopped just a short distance away now. Close enough. Too close.
"You left," he said simply. "And you followed," Julius replied. "Yes."
No hesitation. That answer made something in Julius tighten again. "You're unbelievable," he muttered.
Silence followed. Heavy. Uncomfortable. Julius let out a slow breath. He was trying to steady himself again.
He reached up. He fixed his tie once more. The motion was quick and deliberate. "I meant what I said," he continued.
He didn't look at him. "Stop using it against me." A pause. Then, "Using what against you?"
The question came calmly. Too calmly. Julius's fingers stilled for a brief second. "Don't play with me," he said sharply.
"I'm not," Harrison replied. "You're the one making accusations." Julius turned this time. Irritation was flashing clearly across his face.
"You know exactly what you're doing." "Do I?" That calm again. That steady, unreadable expression.
It pushed something in Julius further than it should have. "You don't even know what you're accusing me of," Harrison added.
That was it. Julius snapped. "Your pheromones."
The word came out hard. Sharp. Uncontrolled. Silence settled. Brief.
Then, "…So you finally admit it." Julius's jaw tightened. "Admit what?"
"That my pheromones affect you." That broke the last bit of restraint. "Yes," Julius snapped.
"It affects me." His voice rose. Frustration was spilling through now. "It's sharp."
"It's strong." "It's—" He exhaled sharply. "Disgusting."
The word hung in the air. "Irritating," he added. "It gets everywhere."
His chest rose and fell once. "It's powerful," he finished. It was almost through clenched teeth. "And it annoys me."
Julius pushed off the sink suddenly. He stepped past him. "Stay away from me," he said.
Clear. Direct. But not as steady as he wanted. Harrison didn't move to stop him. That almost made it worse.
Julius reached the door. His hand was already on the handle. For a second, he paused. Not turning. Not speaking.
Then he opened it. And walked out.