☬♛ PART TWENTY EIGHT ♛☬

Sebastian had seen Alex fight.

He had seen him command a room with nothing but a sharp gaze.

He had seen him stitch wounds with steady hands, handle a sword with quiet precision, and carry himself like a man who knew exactly how to survive in this cruel world.

But nothing-nothing-had ever made Sebastian fall so hard as watching Alex bake a damn cake.

_________________________________________

Sebastian had been passing through the kitchens, fully intending to grab something to eat before heading to his afternoon meetings.

But then-

He saw him.

Alex, standing at the counter, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt, completely focused on kneading dough.

Sebastian should have kept walking.

He should have.

But instead, he froze.

Because something about the way Alex moved-his hands pressing into the soft dough, his brows furrowing slightly in concentration, the faint dusting of flour on his cheek-

It was unfair.

How dare he look so casual and yet so-

So devastatingly attractive.

______________________________________

Sebastian leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, staring.

Alex hadn't noticed him yet. He was too caught up in his task, carefully measuring ingredients, the scent of warm vanilla and cinnamon filling the air.

Sebastian didn't understand it.

He had seen Alex do this before-back when they were younger, when Alex would bake in secret because "A butler doesn't belong in the kitchen, Your Highness"-but this felt different.

Maybe because now, there were no titles between them. No walls of duty or rebellion.

Just Alex.

And Gods, Sebastian was so gone.

The Breaking Point

Alex finally noticed him.

He glanced up, pausing mid-motion. "...What?"

Sebastian blinked, realizing, with mild horror, that he had been standing there for far too long.

"Nothing." He quickly straightened. "Just... watching."

Alex narrowed his eyes. "Watching?"

Sebastian cleared his throat, shoving his hands in his pockets. "You look... competent."

Alex snorted. "That's a terrible compliment."

Sebastian scowled. "You know what I mean."

Alex shook his head, going back to mixing the batter. "You're acting weird again."

"I am not."

"You are."

Sebastian exhaled sharply. "I just didn't know you still did this."

Alex shrugged. "Old habits."

Sebastian watched as Alex carefully poured the batter into a pan, his hands steady, his movements graceful.

It was too much.

The simplicity of it. The domesticity of it.

Sebastian, a man who had spent years in blood and war, suddenly found himself weak-completely helpless-because of a damn cake.

Or, more accurately-

Because of the man making it.

______________________________________

Sebastian sighed, rubbing a hand over his face.

"You're ruining me," he muttered.

Alex glanced at him. "What?"

Sebastian shook his head. "Nothing."

But it wasn't nothing.

It was everything.

Because Sebastian realized, at that moment, that he didn't just love Alex.

He wanted this.

The quiet moments. The teasing arguments. The smell of cinnamon filling the air while Alex hummed under his breath.

He wanted it all.

And that terrified him.

Because he had spent years convincing himself that love was secondary. That it was something he couldn't afford.

But now, standing in the warmth of the kitchen, watching the only person who had ever truly seen him-

Sebastian knew.

It was already too late.