Chapter 4: The Breaking Point

Sebastian was favoring his waist when he walked into the law firm, catching the receptionist mid-application of her lipstick.

Her hand slipped, leaving a red streak across her cheek. She quickly looked down, pretending to organize her desk. By the time she looked up again, all she saw was a tall, upright silhouette rounding the corner into the hallway. His pace was slower than usual, carrying a stiffness that he was clearly trying to hide.

"What’s up with Counselor Sebastian today?" a head popped out from the neighboring cubicle.

"Shh—" the receptionist made a silencing gesture. "Don't ask. If you don't know, you don't know."

There was some hushed whispering in the breakroom, but no one dared to actually approach him. Sebastian had been at this firm for eight years, rising from intern to partner; everyone knew his temperament. He was the kind of man who would carry three heavy case files up five flights of stairs by himself rather than ask for help. For him to be like this meant something significant had happened.

When Assistant Joe timidly knocked and entered the office, Sebastian was already seated behind his desk, flipping through documents.

"Counselor... Counselor Sebastian," Joe placed the coffee on the corner of the desk, trying to keep his voice steady. "At three this afternoon, regarding Mr. Zhang’s case—you have a meeting with him to discuss the settlement."

"I know."

Joe stood there, lingering.

Without looking up, Sebastian asked, "Anything else?"

"No... nothing." Joe turned to leave, but remembered something at the door. "Um, the coffee was just brewed. Please drink it while it’s hot."

The door was softly closed.

Sebastian leaned back against his chair, his waist pressed against the cushion, and slowly let out a breath.

He looked down at the wide medical brace around his waist, pressed it with his hand, and then picked up his documents again.

——————

Lucian hadn't paid a bit of attention to his classes all day.

He hadn't heard a word the professor said. With one hand propped under his chin and the other tapping furiously on his phone, he was spamming his best friend, Chen, with messages.

[Lucian: Holy crap, I’m telling you, Sebastian is literally not human!!!]

[Lucian: He pinned me to the floor and beat me yesterday, do you know that? My face is still swollen! Then he forced me to cook! And after I cooked, he hit me again! Twice! TWICE!!!]

[Chen: ?]

[Chen: You lost a fight?]

[Lucian: IS THAT THE POINT??]

[Chen: Hahahahahahahaha!!!]

[Lucian: What are you laughing at?]

[Chen: Let me see, let me see.]

Lucian rolled his eyes at the screen but eventually took a selfie and sent it to Chen.

In the photo, the area around his eye was still slightly bruised, his lip was split, and he looked utterly done with life.

[Chen: ...]

[Chen: Poor baby.]

Looking at the word "baby" on the screen, Lucian felt a wave of goosebumps.

[Lucian: Can you not be so disgusting?]

[Chen:

Headpat.gif

]

[Lucian: ...Piss off.]

The bell rang, signaling the end of class.

Lucian shoved his phone into his pocket and headed out. Just as he stepped out of the building, he saw Chen leaning against a railing by the road, waving at him.

"Come here, let me see our little Lucian’s injuries." Chen leaned in, reaching out to pinch his cheek. "Aww, poor thing. Got bullied by an old man?"

Lucian slapped his hand away. "Can you speak like a normal person for once?"

Grinning, Chen fished a small vial out of his pocket and shook it in front of him.

Lucian’s gaze was drawn to it. "What’s that?"

"Itching water." Chen lowered his voice, winking conspiratorially. "A friend brought it from abroad. It’s colorless and tasteless. Just a few drops in his food or water, and in eight hours—total body itching. The kind that makes you question your life, where no amount of scratching helps."

Lucian stared at the vial, silent.

"What, you scared?" Chen pressed the bottle into his hand. "Put it in his dinner tonight. Let him suffer for a night, and you'll be free tomorrow, wouldn't you?"

Lucian gripped the vial. Sebastian’s cold, aloof face flashed through his mind, along with that mocking smirk he wore while throwing punches.

Itching so bad that scratching wouldn't help?

He deserved to taste a bit of his own medicine.

"Are there any side effects?" he asked, still a bit uneasy. "I can't go killing the guy."

"Relax, relax," Chen patted his chest reassuringly. "It just itches. Once the eight hours are up, it disappears automatically. Nothing happens. I used it on my dad's old rival before; he was rolling around on the bed itching, and the next day he was back to arguing with my dad like nothing happened."

Lucian tucked the vial into his pocket.

When he got home that evening, the living room lights were off.

Lucian paused while changing his shoes. He walked in a few steps and saw someone lying on the sofa.

Sebastian was asleep.

The living room was dim, with only a sliver of light spilling in from the dining room. He was lying on his side, one hand tucked under his face and the other resting on his waist, breathing steadily. The collar of his loungewear was slightly open, revealing a patch of skin below his collarbone.

Lucian stood there watching him for a few seconds.

For someone so detestable, he didn't look nearly as bad while he was sleeping.

He retracted his gaze and moved quietly toward the kitchen.

He was distracted while cooking, nearly cutting his finger while slicing beef. Halfway through mixing the salad, he glanced back toward the living room, fished the vial out of his pocket, and with trembling hands, let a few drops fall in.

Not many. Just three.

He quickly shoved the vial back, stirred the salad with chopsticks, and took a tiny taste. There truly was no flavor.

Chen hadn't lied to him.

Once dinner was ready, he stood at the kitchen door and cleared his throat.

"Hey."

No movement from the sofa.

"Hey! Dinner's ready."

Sebastian stirred and slowly opened his eyes. He lay there for a moment before bracing himself against the sofa to sit up. His movements were incredibly slow, one hand immediately going to his waist, his brow furrowed in a slight wince.

He glanced at Lucian, said nothing, and stood up to walk toward the dining room.

Lucian followed behind him, his eyes fixed on the man's waist. He seemed even stiffer today than yesterday, and that hand never left his side.

Serves him right.

Lucian looked away and sat at the table, picking up his phone to scroll, trying to mask his mounting guilt.

Sebastian didn't eat much. He had a few bites of salad and a few pieces of beef before setting down his chopsticks.

"Eating so little tonight?" Lucian kept his head down, trying to keep his voice casual.

Sebastian glanced at him, didn't answer, and stood up—hand on his waist—to head toward the bathroom.

The sound of the door closing followed.

Lucian stared at the door, his heart suddenly skipping a few beats. He sat for a while, then got up to clear the dishes. He leaned against the sofa with his phone, but his eyes kept darting toward the bathroom.

The sound of running water stopped.

After a while, the bathroom door opened and Sebastian stepped out. He was in his pajamas, his hair still damp. One hand was supporting his waist, and his steps were even slower than before.

Then, he stopped in the middle of the living room.

He reached up and scratched his neck.

Then he scratched it again.

Lucian swiped up on his phone screen, pretending he hadn't seen a thing.

Sebastian didn't stop. In fact, he started scratching more vigorously. He pulled his hand away from his neck, looked at it, and then scratched the back of his hand. Then the other hand. Then his side. Then his legs.

He stood there as if entangled by something invisible; as soon as he scratched one spot, another started itching. It was getting worse by the second.

Lucian looked up from behind his phone.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his voice flat.

Sebastian’s hand faltered.

He lifted his head and looked at Lucian.

Under the living room lights, the skin on his neck and the backs of his hands had turned red, marked by angry red welts from his fingernails.

He looked at Lucian, his gaze shifting from confusion to realization, and finally to a cold chill.

"You did this," he said. It wasn't a question; it was a statement of fact.

Lucian stood up from the sofa, taking a step back, though he couldn't help a small smirk from forming on his face.

"Who told you to hit me?" he said, a hint of vengeful satisfaction in his tone. "It only lasts eight hours. Consider it a little punishment. We're even now."

Sebastian stared at him.

He didn't say a word, but he took a step forward.

The sharp pain in his waist made him falter, but he didn't stop. He took another step.

The itch was surging from every part of his body now, like countless ants crawling under his skin. He gritted his teeth, one hand supporting his waist and the other clenched into a fist, his nails digging into his palms.

"Get over here," he said, his voice low and strained.

Lucian took another step back. "D-don't come over here! You think you can still hit me like this?"

Sebastian ignored him and took another step.

His legs suddenly buckled.

A violent, stabbing pain flared in his waist, as if someone had twisted a knife inside him. He fell forward, and Lucian instinctively reached out to catch him.

"Hey! What the—!"

Sebastian’s face turned ashen in an instant.

He opened his mouth but no sound came out; instead, his entire body began to shake. It wasn't a tremor from the itching, but from the pain—a pain that radiated from his waist to every extremity, leaving even his lips trembling.

Lucian panicked.

"Holy crap! Old man, what’s wrong? Don’t scare me!" He held Sebastian, feeling the man’s weight sinking. He quickly wrapped his other arm around the man's waist. "What’s wrong with your back? Say something!"

Sebastian gritted his teeth, cold sweat beading on his forehead. His hand gripped Lucian’s arm with a death grip, but he couldn't force out a single word.

Then Lucian felt it.

The hand he had wrapped around Sebastian’s waist felt a sudden, warm dampness.

He glanced down.

A dark stain was spreading across Sebastian's pants.

Lucian froze.

"You—" His voice caught in his throat, his mind going completely blank.

Sebastian’s face was now ghost-white, and for the first time, an irrepressible look of humiliation appeared in his eyes.

"Let go," he whispered, his voice shaking violently, the words squeezed through gritted teeth.

Lucian didn't let go.

Instead, he pulled Sebastian even closer, his other hand frantically reaching for his phone.

Things had truly spiraled out of control!

His phone slipped from his hand once; he bent down to scoop it up, his fingers trembling as he dialed Chen’s number.

"Hey—" as soon as the other end picked up, he roared, "You freaking told me there were no side effects?!!"

Chen was taken aback on the other end. "What? What happened?"

"He... he... I can't even say it!!" Lucian looked down at the man in his arms. Sebastian’s eyes were closed, his jaw locked tight, his whole body shivering. "What the hell did you give me?!!"

"Just itching water, I told you..."

"Then why would he..." Lucian couldn't bring himself to say it, his eyes reddening with panic. "Just get over here!! Get here right now!!!"

Chen panicked too. "Okay, okay! Send me the address, I'm coming right now!"

The call ended.

Lucian tossed his phone onto the sofa and held Sebastian with both hands, at a complete loss for what to do. Sebastian was still scratching—at his neck, the backs of his hands, his face—his nails leaving red marks across his skin.

"Stop scratching!" Lucian grabbed his hands, preventing him from moving.

Sebastian struggled feebly but couldn't break free.

"Let go," his voice was so low it was almost inaudible.

"I won't!" Lucian yelled back, his eyes bloodshot. "Stop freaking scratching! You're going to tear your skin open!"

With his hands pinned, Sebastian couldn't move, but his body continued to shiver. The itch and the pain were braided together, two forces tearing him apart. With someone's arms around his waist, even the slightest movement sent a blinding flash of pain through his vision.

Lucian looked down at him.

He saw Sebastian’s eyelashes trembling; he saw his lips bitten white; he saw the cold sweat pouring from his temples.

For reasons he didn't understand, he reached out his hand and supported the man's waist.

"Does... does it hurt here?" His voice was shaking, carrying a tension he didn't even recognize. "I’ll hold you. Don't move. Just don't move..."

Sebastian didn't answer.

He simply kept his eyes closed, his breathing fast and shallow, allowing Lucian to hold and support him.

A long, long time passed.

The doorbell rang.