In the morning, Liam woke up to find Keiran still sleeping next to him. He couldn't help but admire how peacefully cute Keiran looked while sleeping. Liam smiled and got out of bed, leaving the room to search for Mr. Fergus.
As he walked around, he wondered if the room they slept in was actually Keiran's or not, and why Keiran had ended up there.
Liam found himself lost in thoughts about Keiran and couldn't focus on anything else. He realized how ridiculous it was to be so infatuated with someone and chuckled to himself, knowing that it was just a bad joke.
Liam scoured the kitchen for Mr. Fergus but to no avail. His search continued in the old man's room, yet the room was deserted. Liam's mind raced as he pondered where to locate him. The urgency to converse with Mr. Fergus weighed heavily on him.
The enigmatic nature of his identity compelled him to keep his true self hidden for the time being. He was certain that Keiran would soon return to the city, which presented an opportune moment for him to reveal his true nature.
Despite his aversion to deceit, he finds himself compelled to engage in it due to a dearth of alternatives. He intends to reveal the truth to Keiran soon, although he harbors doubts about the likelihood of their friendship being salvageable. If their bond is unsalvageable, he will not be in the least bit concerned about disclosing the truth to Keiran. Nevertheless, this predicament leaves him feeling disheartened and despondent.
Liam let out a deep sigh of frustration as he limped toward the living room, his wounded leg throbbing with every step. As he made his way through the dimly lit hallway, he failed to notice the wooden chair that was blocking his path. With a sickening thud, he collided with the chair, sending a jolt of searing pain through his injured leg.
Liam's eyes widened in agony as he let out a piercing whimper, his body collapsing backward like a felled tree. He was on the brink of hitting the hard floor, but to his surprise, he was caught by the welcoming and sturdy arms of Keiran, who had rushed to his aid in a heartbeat. Liam couldn't help but feel grateful for Keiran's swift intervention, which had prevented him from suffering an even more painful and debilitating injury.
He looked up at Keiran's eyes, and he was also looking into his eyes. Their gazes met. He could see how Keiran's eyes widened in shock when Liam's gallant visage was exposed.
Keiran vigorously shook his head as he propped up Liam to an upright position. He was utterly flabbergasted. He simply could not fathom the fact that the gentleman he had encountered in the woods and by the serene lake, the same gentleman that Keiran had compelled to disclose his name, was now before him.
The individual who had caused Keiran's heart to palpitate and elicited a swarm of butterflies in his stomach. Keiran was left pondering why this enigmatic figure had materialized, for he remained a stranger to Keiran.
Keiran asked himself why the stranger was there, yes, Liam was still a stranger to Keiran. Keiran didn't even know the guy's name, or where he was from, he thought sometimes that the guy in front of him was from the adjacent village.
"What are you doing here?" Keiran asked him and hid the excitement of meeting the guy once again. "Are you trying to rob the uncle's hunting equipment?"
Liam muttered a pensive "Hmm," unsure of what to say. He couldn't divulge his name to Keiran this time as he fretted over whether Mr. Fergus had already disclosed his identity to Keiran. He couldn't risk lying without first consulting Mr. Fergus. As Liam stood there deep in thought, a warm liquid trickled down his leg.
Upon inspection, he noticed a considerable amount of blood oozing from his wound. Despite the pain, Liam managed to plaster a grin on his face, while Keiran observed him intently, almost as if he was meticulously studying every contour and feature of Liam's countenance.
"Mind telling me your name this time, please." Keiran pleads. It was always exciting to know the stranger's name. However, why is the stranger doesn't even interested in telling Keiran his name?
Liam whimpered instead of responding to Keiran's question, and he gestured towards his leg where blood was trickling down. Keiran's face contorted with worry, and he immediately dropped to one knee to investigate the source of the bleeding.
The wound was concealed by Liam's shorts, but Keiran gingerly peeled back the fabric to reveal the ghastly wound. As Keiran's eyes widened in shock, Liam could sense the deep concern etched on his face. Keiran's next steps were crucial.
Liam gingerly moved away from Keiran and settled into a wooden chair, waiting for Keiran's next move. Keiran stood up and followed Liam, he sat near Liam and looked into Liam's eyes. Liam asked him why.
"Does it hurt?" He asked
Liam nodded. "It does."
"Very well." Keiran rose to his feet, his countenance filled with concern. "Please remain here, my dear, whilst I procure the necessary supplies from my personal effects to tend to your grievous injury." With a determined stride, he made his way toward the chamber they had occupied the previous evening.
As he traversed the threshold, a sudden realization dawned upon him. He had shared a bed with this enigmatic stranger, a notion that left him feeling disconcerted and bewildered. How could he have been so careless with his virtue? The sensation of fluttering butterflies in his stomach only served to exacerbate his inner turmoil.
Keiran's head was pounding as he tried to piece together the events of the previous night. He leaned against the old, creaky wooden door and closed his eyes, trying to recall how he ended up sleeping next to a stranger. The last thing he remembered was downing shots of whiskey with his new friend, Chase, whom he had met in the neighborhood.
The Town's bar was unlike any other bar Keiran had been to before. It was rustic and had a charm of its own. The dim lighting, the eclectic music, and the rhythmic footsteps of the dancers created a lively atmosphere that was hard to resist. The liquor had flowed freely, and Keiran had lost count of how many drinks he had downed.
Despite the throbbing headache, Keiran couldn't help but feel satisfied with the night's events. It had been a long time since he had let loose and had a good time, and last night had been just what he needed. As he stood there with his eyes closed, he couldn't help but smile at the memories of the night before.
Keiran remembered how Chase had come to his aid when he had vomited all over the bar counter. He couldn't understand why he had been so weak to the local wine, as he had never felt the spell of intoxication before, no matter how much alcohol he consumed in the city.
It was strange that the wine Chase had ordered had such a strong effect on him. Perhaps it was the unfamiliarity of it that had caught him off guard. Keiran had always been accustomed to the city's nightlife, where he could handle his liquor without any issues. But last night was different, and he couldn't help but wonder if it was the change of scenery that had affected him.