It was Nathan Moore’s ringtone, a monotonous melody chiming incessantly.
"...Nathan, your phone..." Titus Zane slightly lifted his neck, avoiding Nathan’s lips; his swan-like neck rose gracefully.
He didn’t resist Nathan’s advances, he just wanted to confirm whether he would feel repulsed as he did with other men when it came down to the final step.
"Ignore it!" Three words, filled with impatience and urgency, as Nathan’s handsome face continued to explore, buried in Titus Zane’s neck.
Yet that ringtone kept on incessantly, as if it wouldn’t stop until the call was answered, scattering Titus Zane’s thoughts, his palm propping up Nathan’s handsome face.
"Shh..." With a tender tone, like a sigh, he then sealed those lips that were spoiling the mood with a kiss - a kiss so gentle and absorbing, drawing one into a deep spell.
Just as passion was about to peak, Nathan Moore’s muscular body tensed, and he carried the disheveled woman into the bedroom.
On the bed, an entwining was inevitable. At some point, the man’s gentlemanly façade had been entirely shed, as naked and genuine as a newborn baby, revealing his true self to the woman beneath him.
Titus Zane’s casual knit sweater hung loosely around his neck, a scene of apparent disarray, yet it struck forcefully at the man’s gaze.
Propping himself up, his defined fingers clasped onto the woman’s long legs, ready to plunge and release the built-up tension...
All of a sudden, a force came crashing, and with a heavy thud, he was pushed onto the bed. Before he could react, the woman had quickly leapt off the bed, clutching her lips as she rushed out of the bedroom.
Another bout of earth-shattering vomiting ensued, purging the Italian pasta Nathan Moore had just made, leaving a feeling of nausea in its wake.
Kneeling before the toilet, Titus Zane’s knit sweater dangled from his neck, the black bra hanging from one arm, his fair skin exposed below.
In the apartment’s sofa, Nathan sat on one end, already dressed in pants and a shirt. Perhaps it was due to distraction, or a lack of attention, his ash-gray round-neck T-shirt was inside out, with the seam line visible on the outside.
A cigarette was dangling between his fingers, gaze lowered, his handsome face as cold as dark ice, his chill could be felt from afar.
Stepping out of the bathroom, Titus Zane was still barefoot, his knit sweater now on his body, his hands constantly pulling down the hem as if trying to cover something. However, the sweater was only so long, and no matter how he tugged, those fair and straight legs remained uncovered.
"...I’m sorry..." Looking at the man’s cloudy handsome face, Titus Zane spoke falteringly.
The underwear and outer pants were already on the sofa. With a slightly crouching position, he grabbed them and, back facing the man, slipped them on.
"Was it always before?" A few words, spoken from behind, devoid of warmth and emotion.
Turning his head, Titus Zane had already slipped one leg into the pants, looking back at the man who was still absorbed in his smoke.
After a brief pause, realizing the meaning behind Nathan’s words, Titus Zane nodded, admitting truthfully.
"It has always been ." After stating this, he added, "Ever since I left, my reaction to any man has been the same."
So, it was not directed at him alone, and he, too, was not an exception.
Nathan Moore said nothing further, but his mind was filled with the image of the woman’s accusation.
...Nathan, do you know, you’ve cast a shadow in my heart... I feel repelled by any man...
At the time, he had thought it was just her drunken ramblings, but he hadn’t expected it to be true.
He took two more drags from the cigarette between his fingers, then winced as a sharp pain struck; the cigarette had burned down, scorching his fingertips.
He threw the cigarette butt into the ashtray, snuffing it out forcefully, as if it were an enemy.
Titus Zane pursed his lips, his pants only half on, having forgotten to continue.