Chapter 32: Chapter 32: Love comes later

It wasn’t gentle.

Gregoris pressed in with unhesitating force, catching Rafael’s mouth in a kiss that stole the air from his lungs. The heat and sudden weight startled a sound out of Rafael’s throat before he could stop it. One of Gregoris’s hands braced against the wall beside Rafael’s head, close enough that the pressure of his body felt like a cage, but not quite touching. The other hand settled at Rafael’s waist, fingers digging just enough to remind him that Gregoris could snap a man in two without trying.

His mouth was warm and rough, the kiss unyielding, a hard press of lips that left no room for retreat. Rafael tasted blood mixed with the lingering sugar of the cookie. It made him flinch, but Gregoris didn’t pull back. If anything, he deepened the pressure, like he could erase the argument, the insult, and every line Rafael had drawn between them in one violent, unasked-for kiss.

Rafael’s back hit the wall. Not hard, but enough to feel it. His pulse kicked up, breath caught somewhere between panic and something he didn’t want to name. Gregoris kissed like a man used to command. And Rafael hated that it made his knees go weak.

Sharp, metallic warmth ghosted across his tongue as Gregoris pulled back just slightly, breath brushing Rafael’s lips.

Rafael blinked, still pressed against the wall, still breathing in quick, uneven pulls that infuriated him more than the kiss itself. “You’re bleeding,” he said, as if Gregoris might suddenly understand reason if delivered slowly.

Gregoris shifted closer, the faintest tilt of his head acknowledging the thin line of red at the corner of his mouth. “Yes,” he said again, calm as a man commenting on the weather. “The cookies bit back.”

“That’s not funny,” Rafael snapped, though his voice betrayed the tremor he tried to hide. His spine straightened reflexively, his palms flattening against the cold marble at his back. “You should have felt the destabilizer by now.”

“Oh, I did,” Gregoris murmured, lowering his voice to something intimate and entirely inappropriate for a hallway full of Shadows pretending not to stare. “It burns a little. Clever.” His thumb brushed the corner of his own lip, collecting a smear of blood like it was an afterthought. “You really outdid yourself.”

Rafael swallowed, the motion tight. “It wasn’t meant to…”

“Yes, it was,” Gregoris interrupted, not unkindly, but with the certainty of a man who could read truths like weapon schematics. “You wanted to see if you could push me off balance.”

Rafael looked away, the angle of his jaw a silent refusal.

Gregoris didn’t allow it. He leaned in again, not kissing him this time but resting a fraction of his weight against the wall, boxing Rafael between his arms without touching him. His eyes were bright from adrenaline and the destabilizer sparking faintly along his ether channels, but they were alarmingly focused.

“Rafael,” he said quietly, “I asked for retaliation at the date. You answered with poison.” His lips curved. “I consider that enthusiasm.”

“That is not enthusiasm!” Rafael hissed, trying to sidestep him, but Gregoris tracked the motion with ease, shifting just enough to keep him caged.

“You baked for me,” Gregoris continued, as if listing courtship rituals that were widely agreed upon and absolutely not invented thirty seconds ago. “You delivered it yourself. You challenged me in front of my entire department. And then you left without a kiss.” He tilted his head, considering Rafael like an equation he had already solved. “I corrected the oversight.”

“You attacked me,” Rafael corrected sharply.

Gregoris gave a low hum. “If that was an attack, Rosenroth, you’re going to be overwhelmed when I start courting you properly.”

Rafael’s breath caught on something that should have been outrage but tangled into something much less manageable. “I never agreed to be courted.”

“You didn’t have to,” Gregoris said. “You declared war with sugar. That’s far more binding.”

Rafael glared at him, cheeks warm, dignity shredded in uneven strips. “You are insufferable.”

“And you,” Gregoris replied, finally stepping back a fraction, enough to let Rafael breathe but not enough to be safe, “taste like resolve.”

The Shadows in the hallway did not dare move or speak, but the collective internal screaming was almost audible.

Gregoris wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his thumb and regarded it with mild interest. “Hm. I’ll heal in a few minutes. The destabilizer was strong, but not strong enough to do more than sting.”

Rafael exhaled. “It wasn’t supposed to injure you.”

Gregoris met his eyes again, smiling slowly and unnervingly genuine. “Then next time, bake it stronger.”

“Next time?” Rafael echoed, horrified.

“Yes.” Gregoris adjusted his coat, already looking like a man planning his counterstrike. “Bring more cookies. Then we’ll see what else you think I deserve in return.”

Rafael sputtered. “I am not…”

“You are,” Gregoris said simply, “delightful.”

He stepped aside at last, giving Rafael a clear path forward, though the permission felt more like a leash than an exit.

Rafael looked at Gregoris like he spotted a second head. “Gregoris…” He inhaled and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Did you fall in love?”

Gregoris’s expression did not change. But something in the air around him shifted, like a predator narrowing its attention on the exact moment its prey realized it was being hunted.

“Love,” he repeated, as if tasting the word on his tongue. “That is a generous term for what you have provoked.”

Rafael stared, searching for sarcasm, for denial, for anything that would restore even a shred of order to the universe. “Gregoris, that is not an answer.”

“No,” Gregoris agreed, his gaze steady, unreadable. “It is not.”

Rafael’s pulse jumped. “Then answer the question.”

Gregoris took one step closer, not touching him, but close enough that Rafael could feel the heat radiating off his chest and the faint, unstable hum of the destabilizer still crackling through his ether channels. “Rafael,” he said quietly, “I have spent years surrounded by war, by men who plot behind masks, by nobles who lie so elegantly they confuse themselves. None of that has ever irritated me as much as you baking poison into a dessert and delivering it with a ribbon.”

“That is not…”

Gregoris lifted a hand. Rafael went silent.

“What I feel,” Gregoris continued, his tone even, controlled, “is interest.” His eyes swept over Rafael’s face slowly. “And yes, a degree of… attachment. You may call it what you like.”

Rafael felt his stomach drop. “That is not reassuring.”

“It was not meant to reassure,” Gregoris said. “It was meant to inform.”

“Wonderful,” Rafael muttered. “That is exactly what I needed. A confession phrased like a tactical report.”

Gregoris’s mouth curved slightly. “Would you prefer a declaration instead?”

“No,” Rafael answered immediately. “Absolutely not.”

“Then accept the one I already gave you,” Gregoris replied, stepping back just enough to let Rafael breathe. “I am aware of what I want. And I am aware that you, Rafael Rosenroth, respond best when confronted directly.”

Rafael pressed a hand to his forehead. “Gregoris, you do not simply decide these things without consulting the other person.”

“I did consult you,” Gregoris said. “You brought cookies.”

“That… no. No. That was not consent. That was retaliation.”

Gregoris inclined his head. “And retaliation is a dialogue.”

Rafael’s jaw dropped. “That is not how normal people function.”

“I am not normal people.”

“That,” Rafael said tightly, “is what concerns me.”

Gregoris watched him for a long moment, eyes narrowing faintly. “You asked if I fell in love,” he said at last. “The truth is simpler. I noticed you.”

Rafael blinked. “…That’s all?”

“For now.” Gregoris turned, calm and decisive. “Love comes later.”

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