Autumn had arrived, and the leaves on the trees were beginning to be tinged with beautiful warm colors. Six months had passed since Adrien left without even saying goodbye.

It was common for him to disappear for a few days, but he always came back to apologize and give him something extremely expensive. He always did. However, this time, it was the first time that Adrien Gautier did not contact him, much less call him.

But that was what he had been looking for for almost five years. Adrien was always clingy and annoying. Since he came into his life, he had been, for him, a walking nuisance. Therefore, he could not explain how that nuisance was becoming indispensable in his life. He looked at his cell phone more than ten times a day, however, Adrien had not even sent a message.

But it didn't matter. After two days without hearing from him, he decided to block his private number. If he expected him to apologize, he was dreaming. He was the one who was slapped, he was the one who lied to him whenever he could, and he was the one who made up relationships with half the world. Adrien's stupidity had him mentally agitated, and if he didn't contact him, fine, he wouldn't look for him.

Adrien was like that. He always had been. Even his grandfather considered him someone extremely difficult to deal with. He never knew him to have a friend, but many enemies. There were too many people who didn't like him. Many others hated and loathed him. At first, he wondered why, but in a few months he knew why so many people were against him, why they walked away from him as if he were the most toxic waste. Even he wanted to get away.

However, that contract kept him tied to him for five long, torturous years. Five years that would lead him to have a feeling of love-hate for the boy with the obsessive gaze. Adrien's absence, although initially celebrated as a liberation, left an uncomfortable void that forced him to face the reality of his own contradictory feelings toward this boy who, somehow, had become indispensable in his tumultuous life.

...ΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩ...

The dark orbs focused on the image in front of him. An amalgamation of emotions, from sharp pain to deep rage, seized his being instantly. He wanted to look away, wished not to continue contemplating that image that tore at his soul. He longed fervently to return to the life he led just five minutes ago, when he was completely unaware of the existence of those photographs. However, he was the one who insisted on moving forward, who built castles in the sky. He was the one who took the first step between them.

He was the only one who let himself be enveloped by love.

He felt like a mere follower, a faithful companion behind the impressive Carlo Mancini. It had always been like this, and that reality struck him with brutal sincerity. He was fully aware that, for Carlo, he was nothing more than an annoyance in his path, a shadow that barely deserved attention.

Despite feeling stupid, he desperately wished to cling to Carlo. He didn't plan to give up so easily; even less so in the presence of a simple nurse. He angrily closed the tablet and threw it hard against the wall. Books scattered across the floor, a reflection of the chaos that had taken hold of his insides. Adrien leaned back in his chair, a mixture of frustration and irritation consuming him completely. Carlo had excluded him from his life by blocking his personal number, limiting communication through his secretary.

Three months had passed since then, and the question continued to resonate: Didn't he miss him at all? Adrien sank into depression as he reflected on this. He never received a sign of affection from Carlo, always facing indifference and coldness. Even when he tried his best, Carlo looked down on him.

He couldn't force Carlo to love him, but he was determined to keep him by his side. He had forced Carlo to stay, hoping against all logic that he could awaken some kind of feeling in him. But it was a monumental mistake. Carlo was not attracted to him or to any man; his preferences were exclusively feminine, and that was something immutable.

While Adrien was throwing a tantrum in distant lands, Carlo was comfortably enjoying his absence. Should he apologize? Should he be the first to apologize, as he had done so many times? Uncertainty harassed him, but he was also aware that the longer he spent away from Carlo, the easier it would be for him to fall in love with someone else.

Despite everything, a part of Adrien urged him to maintain his pride. He had lost his dignity to Carlo countless times, and for a moment, he wished that Carlo would be the one to apologize first. However, they both knew that in the end, Adrien would end up being the one to apologize even for things he hadn't done.

He let his face fall onto the desk, scribbling on a blank sheet of paper. His mind was filled again and again with the image that tormented him, remembering the day when, with hope, he gave Carlo a gift. Hands marked by rose thorns were evidence of the effort involved. Adrien smiled enthusiastically as he presented a bouquet of red roses, but Carlo's cold reaction shattered his illusions.

"Don't put garbage on my desk."

Those few words took his breath away, and not exactly in a comforting way. His lips trembled and his eyes burned with unusual intensity. He had been despised. Although surprise was not part of his reaction, the pain clung to him as if he had not anticipated it. He tried to articulate some answer, but the words were caught in the knot that formed in his throat.

With trembling hands and shattered illusions, once again, he dragged the box towards himself and held it in his hands. He blinked repeatedly, fighting the flow of tears that threatened to escape his eyes. As was his custom, he was forced to ignore his emotions, or at least try to. He forced a smile, although, observed closely, it looked more like a grimace of pain. A failed attempt to smile. However, that didn't seem to matter to Carlo, who, as soon as he saw him pick up the box, turned his gaze back to whatever was stealing his attention.

"I'll open it for you," Adrien announced with a hint of enthusiasm. He took one of the leather chairs in front of Carlo's desk and proceeded to open the box with extreme care. The smile on his face widened as he contemplated the beautiful bouquet of flowers. He had put a significant effort into making sure everything was perfect, and luckily it was. He considered placing the bouquet in front of Carlo, but remembering the previous reaction, he chose to hold it in his hands, as if afraid that any further gesture would trigger further disdain.

The irony of the situation did not go unnoticed; as he celebrated the successful outcome of his gift, Carlo barely looked away from his chores. Adrien's attempt to regain some appreciation in Carlo's gaze was doomed to indifference. Still, hoping that this small gesture might change something, Adrien continued to hold the bouquet, wishing that at least this flourishing beauty could break the ice in Carlo's cold heart.

"Look," said Adrien expectantly, holding the bouquet of flowers, "It's pretty, isn't it?"

The silence stretched for about three or four minutes, as Adrien's cheeks began to ache from the forced smile he maintained. About to burst with frustration, Carlo's beautiful eyes finally settled on him and the gift he was holding.

"Pretty," Carlo replied with a brevity that was unexpected. It was a short answer, but enough for Adrien's wounded heart to receive a little relief. Satisfied, he closed the lid of the box again and left it on the chair next to it.

He searched the inside pocket of his jacket for two small sheets folded in half and placed them in front of Carlo. The action caused Carlo's face to contort in a grimace of disgust, but Adrien chose to ignore the expression and speak before being sent to hell.

"Choose one," Adrien insisted.

Carlo looked up, showing clear irritation. Adrien pouted, and Carlo rolled his eyes, frowning further. Adrien knew Carlo's aversion to being disturbed while he was working, but otherwise he would never get his attention. If he didn't seek out Carlo, he would simply ignore him completely, defying any tacit agreement they shared.

Without much enthusiasm, Adrien watched as Carlo selected one of the two small folded sheets. However, he couldn't help but insist that he unfold it and read its contents, even though the idea might seem silly and childish. Regardless, Carlo's simple choice excited him, eager to find out what activity he had chosen.

"Coffee," Carlo pronounced as he examined the unfolded sheet. "Coffee?" he repeated in the form of a question, arching one of his eyebrows with an air of skepticism.

"Great! That means we're going to the new cafe nearby. I've read reviews online and they say it's exceptional. The other sheet suggested a relaxing walk on the beach, but since you chose this option..."

The excitement in Adrien's face and words abruptly faded as he watched Carlo crumple the sheet and disdainfully discard it in the trash can, right in front of him. That gesture of rejection towards his perfect date plan caused something inside Adrien to shatter that day. Strange and even stupid as it may seem, Adrien was sadly accustomed to these kinds of slights.

"It's my fault," he whispered in his thoughts. "I provoked it," he thought, struggling not to sink into humiliation.

"You know I don't like going out to crowded places. I hate listening to the bustle of people," Carlo stated coldly. Every word Carlo uttered resonated in Adrien's consciousness, increasing the burden of guilt. Because yes, he knew perfectly well all the things that Carlo hated. And, unfortunately for him, it was precisely those things that Adrien longed to do with him.

Adrien yearned for the experience of taking Carlo to the movies, where they could immerse themselves together in a horror movie. He cleverly planned to feign fear so he would have the perfect excuse to hug Carlo. However, all those expectations were dashed against the reality of Carlo's specific aversions: his rejection of the smell of popcorn and his loathing of any kind of movie. Between sighing resignedly and abandoning the idea, Adrien felt another shadow added to the growing list of disagreements.

The illusion of sharing a day at the mall also vanished in the face of the reality of Carlo's preferences. He wanted to hold his hand, admire window displays, and enjoy ice cream together, but Carlo's objections were unwavering. He hated sweets, resisted contact in public, and seemed to abhor the idea of spending any time with him at all.

"But there you are?" Adrien murmured as he crumpled the sheet he had been scribbling on. "You are there. In the same place you didn't want to go... You're there, with her, at the same cafe I invited you to." Sadness crept into his words, a sadness that resonated with the disappointment of having made plans in the hope of uniting them and instead finding himself with the harsh reality of insurmountable barriers imposed by Carlo's preferences. At that moment, Adrien felt submerged in the painful realization that, even in their small attempts at connection, the emotional distance between them seemed insurmountable.

...----------------...

The sudden outburst of anger made him throw an owl he had on his desk against the bookcase, sending pieces scattering across the floor. He let out a cry of frustration and slammed his hand against the desk. If it weren't for the fact that his grandfather had sent him to that place, he definitely wouldn't have let that fox get within a centimeter of Carlo.

"Oops, I think I came at a bad time." Adrien turned his gaze towards the entrance, his face relaxing slightly when he met Cedric's worried face. The man slowly pushed the door open and entered with two coffees in hand. "Here, maybe this will help you relax a bit."

Adrien walked towards him and carefully took the coffee. "Thank you, I'll need it."

"How is it?" Cedric asked after watching him take a sip, smiling contentedly when Adrien nodded, approving of the taste.

"By the way, you said you'd be busy today, what are you doing here?" he asked as he invited him to sit in the small living room in the office.

"Can't I just come by because I miss my friend?" he asked playfully, and Adrien smiled. "Actually, I came because I wanted to talk to you about some very profitable business in Italy, but," Cedric paused and looked at the mess on the other side, "I see I came at a bad time."

"A problem with a trivial matter in Italy, that's all." He tried to downplay it, but the tension in his jaw and the force he used to grip the coffee cup said otherwise.

"I won't ask, but remember you can always tell me anything." Cedric leaned in slightly, and setting his coffee cup aside, he took both of Adrien's hands and rubbed his thumbs over them.

"Yes, I know. Thank you very much, Cedric."

Cedric settled back into his seat and continued chatting with him about trivial matters. Before, Adrien would tell him everything, no matter how insignificant it seemed, however, he didn't expect them to go back to the way they were after all these years either. He knew that for both of them to have the same trust as in the past, they had to make up for lost time.

...----------------...

In the blink of an eye, another month had passed. Adrien was getting more and more agitated each day, and his bad mood was starting to affect his work. Even his grandfather had reprimanded him and demanded that he keep his personal affairs out of business.

He had tried, God knows he tried to, he tried so hard to ignore the fact that Carlo Mancini seemed to want nothing to do with him. Sure, he was the first to ignore him and do a bunch of stupid things to make him jealous, but Carlo didn't even want him as a friend, and now he was paying the price for ignoring him first.

For over a month, Carlo hadn't even contacted him by mistake. The desperation to hear from him was killing him, yet Carlo had even blocked him. He tried calling him from a different number, but whenever he heard his voice, he would immediately hang up.

He really wanted to get rid of his presence.

Adrien slumped back in the red leather armchair he was sitting in. The waiter set down a cut crystal glass, put a few ice cubes in it, and poured in some top-shelf rum.

"Leave the bottle and go," Adrien ordered listlessly. The waiter nodded, placed the bottle of rum on the glass table, and left the private room.

Adrien got up lazily and drank the rum from the glass in one gulp, pouring himself more and repeating the same process until the bottle was halfway empty.

He hated feeling so damn insecure. The pictures of that nurse and Carlo kept coming, the two of them seemed to have a special connection, and in the short time he'd been gone, that girl had completely replaced him.

Tears welled up in his eyes as the bottle of rum continued to dwindle at an alarming rate. His pride had gotten the better of him or Carlo was simply taking the opportunity to make it clear to him what he already knew: that he didn't love him.

It was more than obvious, but he was clinging to that one-sided relationship so tightly that the chains had embedded themselves in his hands and it was impossible to let go.

"Hey, what's wrong?" his friend's familiar voice made him turn his head. Cedric took the bottle from his hand and set it on the glass table. He tenderly cupped Adrien's face in both hands and gently wiped the tears from his cheeks with his thumbs.

Adrien blinked a couple of times and his blurry vision cleared. He looked at Cedric and couldn't help but cry harder. His sobs became audible and Cedric, with a pained look in his eyes, hugged him, burying Adrien's face in his shoulder and rubbing his back tenderly.

"Hey, baby, what's wrong?" he asked softly. Adrien hated it when he called him baby, but at that moment he had neither the heart nor the strength to start one of their typical meaningless fights.

He weakly clung to Cedric's arm and let the tears flow as long as they could. His eyes ached and his sockets were dry, but the pain lingered in his chest. Who knows how much time passed, even the position had changed. Now he was lying back in the armchair, resting his head on Cedric's lap.

"Thank you," Adrien said suddenly, "I'm grateful that you're here."

Although the drunkenness was slowly wearing off, his head was beginning to pound. Adrien's eyes were swollen and it was painful to keep them open; he chose to close them, sinking into a silence that allowed him to savor his friend's gentle caresses, which momentarily transported him back to his childhood.

"We're friends, Adrien. Besides, remember that I love you… I always have." Adrien nodded silently, though Cedric was aware that his "I love you" was interpreted differently by Adrien. "Will you tell me what's going on with you?"

Adrien tensed in his seat. Since they'd been reunited, he'd never shared anything with Cedric about Carlo. He knew he'd probably be upset, but he needed to vent. Apart from his grandfather, he had no one close to him; the loneliness was sometimes overwhelming and terrifying. Adrien slowly sat up and sat dejectedly.

"I… I fell in love with a person who will never see me as anything more than an annoyance in his life," he confessed, his voice cracking. Cedric's hands clenched, his veins prominent. "We fought, and my pride led me to ignore him… I thought he'd insist, because even though he doesn't love me, we've been together for years… but, it was too stupid to think that… he doesn't even answer my calls or messages."

"What kind of idiot would make you cry like that?" he expressed angrily.

If Adrien were in his hands, he would cherish him like the most valuable treasure in the world. Despite his bad temper and explosive temperament, Adrien was nothing more than someone vulnerable, encapsulated in an arrogant shell since the death of his parents. It was his way of protecting himself from everyone.

"He despises me for what I did to him… but, it hadn't been important to me until today, it never mattered to me that he hated me as long as he was by my side," he confessed, hating being so damn dependent on Carlo.

Cedric could hear the desperation in his words and he remembered what Adrien had once told him: "I just want someone to love me the way Dad loved Mom." He knew that it was always his dream, to have a family like the one those bastards had destroyed.

Cedric knelt in front of him, cupping his face in both hands.

"Adrien, he's not the only person who can love you," he whispered close to his face. His breath mingled with the scent of alcohol emanating from Adrien's mouth; his eyes scanned his face lovingly, and his heart skipped a beat when his gaze lingered on his rosy lips. "Look beyond, you'll realize that there is someone willing to love you the way you deserve."