"Taming the Crybaby Tyrant:"On the First Day We Lived Together, He Beat Me Until I Cried"" Chapter 35: The Cold War

Chapter 35: The Cold War

With the modeling competition fast approaching, Lucian’s life had become exceptionally disciplined.

He woke up at six every morning and ran five kilometers.

By the time he returned, Sebastian’s bedroom door would still be closed. He would shower, eat a quick bite, and head to school for classes.

In the afternoon, he would return and do a set of strength training in the living room.

Push-ups, squats, dumbbells—while he was drenched in sweat, Sebastian was usually in the study with the door shut, not making a sound.

At night, Lucian cooked. When he finished, he would take a portion to the study door, knock, leave it on the small side table, and then return to the dining room to eat alone.

After cleaning up, he would do another set of core training.

Before bed, he would stand in front of the mirror and inspect himself.

His abs seemed a bit more defined. The lines of his shoulders were sharper, more rugged.

Not bad,

he’d tell himself.

Then, lights out, sleep.

An entire week passed like this.

Living under the same roof, they had almost no interaction. Occasionally crossing paths in the hallway, they would each keep to their own side, their gazes never meeting.

Since the man was heartless enough to tell him to "get out," Lucian figured he might as well stay far away.

...

One evening, Lucian made braised pork belly.

He wasn't actually very good at it, but after studying online tutorials for days and failing several times, he finally produced a decent pot.

He scooped out a bowl, placed it on a tray along with a bowl of rice and a side of greens.

Carrying the tray, he walked to the study door.

He knocked.

"Food."

He waited two seconds. No response.

He set the tray on the side table and turned to leave.

The door opened.

Sebastian stood in the doorway, glancing down at the bowl of braised pork.

"What is it today?"

Lucian stopped, but didn't turn around.

"Braised pork."

Sebastian looked at Lucian’s back.

Lucian was wearing a thin jacket over an athletic tank top; the silhouette of his shoulders was visible, looking a bit broader than before.

Sebastian retracted his gaze and picked up the tray, preparing to go back inside.

Just then, he felt a sudden tightness in his chest.

It wasn't pain, just a stifling sensation, as if his breathing couldn't quite keep up.

He ignored it and stepped back into the room.

Lucian turned his head.

He watched Sebastian’s back, noticing a slight, unnatural rise and fall of his shoulders, as if he were uncomfortable.

"Wait a second."

Sebastian stopped, still not turning around.

"What?"

Lucian walked over and stood in front of him, staring at his face.

Sebastian’s expression was blank, but his breathing was indeed somewhat rapid.

"What's wrong with you?"

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Sebastian didn't realize what he was referring to.

"What do you mean, 'what's wrong'?"

"Your breathing," Lucian said. "It's a bit heavy."

Only then did Sebastian notice.

He took a breath, then another; it was indeed shallower and faster than usual.

But he didn't take it seriously.

"It's nothing."

Lucian stared at him, clearly unconvinced.

Sebastian felt unsettled by the scrutiny.

"I’m just annoyed seeing you," he said. "Annoyed to the point where I can't catch my breath."

Lucian’s expression soured instantly.

Looking at Sebastian’s cold face and those emotionless eyes, he let out a sharp, angry laugh.

"Fine," he said. "Then don't eat. Starve for all I care."

He reached out and snatched the tray back from Sebastian’s hands.

Sebastian, acting out of spite, decided he wouldn't eat even if it killed him. He let go of the tray without a word, though his expression was grim.

"Aren't you annoyed?" Lucian said, holding the tray and looking at him. "If you're annoyed, don't eat. Save yourself the trouble of looking at me."

He turned on his heel.

Sebastian stood in place, watching his back.

"Don't bother making anything from now on," his voice trailed after him. "It makes me nauseous just to look at it."

Lucian’s footsteps faltered.

He stood in the hallway, back turned to Sebastian, holding that bowl of freshly made braised pork.

He took a deep breath.

Then he turned around, a smile plastered on his face.

"Fine, Counselor."

With that, he continued toward the kitchen and dumped the bowl of braised pork straight into the trash.

Sebastian stood at the study door, watching him disappear into the kitchen, and suddenly felt his chest grow even tighter.

He braced himself against the doorframe, stood for a long while, then turned back into the study.

The door shut.

Bang.

In the kitchen, Lucian stood by the trash can, looking down at the discarded pork. It was still steaming, mixed in with the trash bag; it looked like a waste.

He deserves to be hungry!

He was fuming as he began to clean the stove.

He wiped it down, washed the pot, and put the utensils in the dishwasher.

Having finished, he stood in the center of the kitchen, suddenly not knowing what to do with himself.

After standing dazed for a while, he walked into the gym and started his final set of training for the day.

Sweat slid down his temples, tickling his skin. He wiped it away, his legs beginning to ache, his lungs working like a bellows. All the messy thoughts in his head suddenly grew distant, leaving only:

Inhale. Exhale.

Exercise was indeed the best cure for frustration.

He wiped the sweat off his body and stepped into the shower, letting the water wash away the day's irritations.

After showering, he lay on his bed and started a voice call with Chen, listening to him ramble on about Xavier.

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"You know, he actually asked me what I wanted for dinner tonight on his own!" Chen’s voice was filled with irrepressible excitement. "That's a first! Usually I’m the one asking, and he just says 'whatever'!"

Lucian gave an "Mm," eyes fixed on the ceiling.

"Do you think he's starting to like me?"

"Mm."

"Can you freaking pay attention?"

"I am paying attention."

Chen cursed at him and continued his story.

Lucian listened, but his mind drifted. He felt a sudden wave of restlessness.

Just then, he heard movement outside.

Faint footsteps, coming from upstairs.

He seemed to understand something, and the corners of his mouth slowly curved up.

"Gotta hang up," he said to Chen. "Something's up."

"Hey? It's the middle of the night, what could be—"

Beep-beep—

Lucian had already hung up.

He quietly cracked the door open and peeked out; the hallway was empty.

But from downstairs came a soft, rustling sound.

He lightened his footsteps and crept down.

When he reached the turn in the stairs, he saw him.

Sebastian was standing in front of the refrigerator, clad only in thin pajamas. He wasn't wearing his back brace, and his posture was a bit awkward; one hand braced against the counter while the other rummaged through the fridge.

The light from the refrigerator hit his face, softening his features. He looked like he was only in his early twenties; Lucian couldn't help but admire how well he maintained himself. Even his aura was restrained and poised.

Lucian leaned against the stair railing, watching him.

Watching him search back and forth, finding nothing.

He suddenly wanted to laugh. Just moments ago, the man was as stubborn as a mule, and now he was here foraging because of hunger.

He walked over softly, coming up behind Sebastian.

"Looking for food?"

Sebastian froze instantly. He turned around and saw Lucian, his expression becoming extremely sour.

Then he quickly regained his composure, shut the refrigerator door, and turned to leave as if nothing had happened.

Lucian was dying of laughter. "Hey."

Sebastian didn't look back.

Lucian caught up in a few strides, grabbed his wrist, and pulled him into his arms. It had been so long since he’d held him that it felt a bit unfamiliar.

Lucian looked at the head that refused to turn, that stubborn nape, and the small sliver of waist exposed beneath the pajamas. His smile deepened.

How can someone be this stubborn?

"What do you want to eat?" he asked.

Sebastian, naturally, did not answer.

Lucian intentionally lowered his voice to sound a bit more aggressive.

"If you don't say anything, I’m really not cooking."

"Let go."

Sebastian’s tone was calm, his face devoid of expression. He broke out of Lucian’s embrace and continued upstairs.

Lucian stood frozen, watching him walk up the stairs step by step, turn the corner, and vanish into the hallway. His heart suddenly sank.

He couldn't say why, but he felt a twinge of panic.

He chased after him in a few strides and, before Sebastian could enter his bedroom, hugged him tightly from behind.

"Let go."

"I won't."

Lucian rested his chin on the man’s shoulder, his arms wrapped tightly around his waist.

"Let’s talk," he said. "Okay?"

"No."

"Why not?"

Sebastian broke his grip, didn't look at him, and walked into his bedroom. The door closed.

Bang.

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