My five ghostly husbands Chapter 358

After wrapping his shoot for the day, Kaelan headed back to his dorm, already imagining the bliss of flopping onto his bed and doing absolutely nothing. But the moment he pushed open the door, his plans came to a screeching halt.

There were three extra people in the room.

"Hey!" Karl greeted cheerfully, as if this was the most natural thing in the world.

Kaelan blinked. His roommate, whom he’d grown surprisingly fond of in the short time they’d known each other, was smiling from ear to ear. Karl wasn’t the scheming type—he was innocent, clueless half the time, and somehow always fun to be around. With Karl, boredom didn’t stand a chance.

Kaelan’s own life, on the other hand... well, it had been a mess. His so-called friend—plus his manager—had betrayed him with his girlfriend Emma, the witch he’d once thought he was in love with. Turned out both of them had been playing him from the start. And Emma? She wasn’t even the witch who drove that car.

Still, all of that seemed far away at the moment, because Kaelan had been dealing with something far more confusing lately—this odd, unshakable feeling that bubbled up every time he saw Karl’s wife. He didn’t know what to call it exactly, but his heart always skipped a beat around her.

"Kai! My brothers are here! Jules made food for us!" Karl announced proudly.

Kaelan’s gaze shifted, and that’s when he saw him—a ghost with warm brown hair and eyes, sitting cross-legged on Karl’s bed. The young ghost looked up at him with wide, starry eyes, almost like a child spotting their favorite celebrity in person for the first time.

Then, to Kaelan’s surprise, the ghost blushed. He fidgeted for a moment, then stood, clutching a sketchbook to his chest as he walked toward him.

"I-I’m your fan," he said shyly.

Kaelan felt a small tug at his heart. He was so cute .

Milo hesitated for a moment before flipping open the sketchbook. Kaelan’s eyes widened. On the page was a beautifully drawn painting of his face, the outline capturing his features with striking precision and some subtle, almost meaningful detailing in the eyes that made him look... alive.

Before Kaelan could speak, Karl leaned over and added, "Let me tell you, Kaelan—Milo has never painted any of us. No matter how much we begged him! But he painted you! Honestly, it was actually kind of sad for me..." Karl pouted dramatically, crossing his arms.

Milo’s blush deepened.

"Aww, thank you," Kaelan said warmly, pulling Milo into a gentle hug. "It’s beautiful."

"Mm," Milo mumbled, his face still red but clearly pleased.

Karl, ever the host, quickly moved to introduce everyone. "This is Jules—he’s the one who made dinner. And that’s Adrian, but he’s pretending to be invisible right now because he’s shy around strangers."

Adrian rolled his eyes but didn’t deny it.

"And, of course, you already met our resident artist, Milo."

Kaelan looked around at the unexpected little gathering in his dorm and, for the first time in a long while, felt an odd sense of warmth. Maybe this wouldn’t be such a bad evening after all.

Karl and Kaelan only had two chairs in the dorm, so when it came time to eat, everyone naturally decided to sit on the floor together. The small space was warm with the smell of the food Julian had prepared, and someone had spread out a thin blanket so the bowls wouldn’t wobble on the bare tiles. Kaelan sat cross-legged, idly stirring his soup, while Karl leaned back on one arm, already eyeing the dishes like he hadn’t eaten in days.

"Well! Wife can’t blame us if we eat without her, because we’re hungry," Karl announced, lifting his brows with mock seriousness. His tone was light, but his stomach gave a little growl, earning a quiet snicker from Kaelan. Milo, sitting beside him, nodded his head in agreement—then quickly shook it as if reconsidering, unsure whether siding with Karl would get him into trouble later.

Just as Karl finished speaking, the faint sound of keys jingling came from outside. The door clicked open, and Ruby stepped inside, her white hair falling over her shoulder as she closed it behind her. She stopped mid-step, her eyes widening just slightly at the sight in front of her—five ghosts gathered on the floor, bowls in hand, sitting so close it almost looked like a proper family dinner. The scene was oddly heartwarming, though she didn’t say it aloud.

"Without me??" she asked, tilting her head and letting her voice drip with fake sadness.

At once, Milo’s eyes went round, and Julian nearly put down his chopsticks.

"Wife, come here, we were just waiting for you!" Milo said quickly, patting the spot beside him.

"Yes, wife, please—we’ve been waiting for you," Julian added, his voice calm but his expression giving him away.

Ruby let her lips curl into a soft smile. "I’m just joking." She crossed the small space to the sink, rolled her sleeves, and washed her hands, the warm water rinsing away the faint chill from outside. When she returned, Julian had already served her plate and slid it toward her, the steam curling up invitingly.

As she settled down among them, she glanced at Karl and said casually, "Do you know Milo has become a student of Master Elric Wrenford?" Her voice carried an undercurrent of pride.

Karl froze, his spoon halfway to his mouth. "But... who is he??"

Kaelan, who had been quietly sipping his soup until now, lifted his gaze. "He’s a very famous painter in the capital," he explained simply.

Karl’s eyes widened in disbelief. "Really, Milo?"

Milo gave a small nod, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of his bowl.

"I took him to Master Elric Wrenford myself," Ruby continued. "There was such a long line of students waiting, but when we showed him Milo’s art, he accepted him right away." Her eyes softened, the memory clearly fresh in her mind.

Karl blinked at Milo for a few seconds before suddenly bursting out, "YOU DIDN’T TELL ME! I’M SO PROUD OF YOU, MILLO! IF I WEREN’T EATING RIGHT NOW, I WOULD HAVE HUGGED YOU!" His voice boomed with such sincerity that everyone chuckled, and Milo’s face turned a shade pinker, the corners of his mouth twitching in shy embarrassment.

To be continued... 🪄

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