Chapter 50: Dangerous Attraction

"Because your eyes are green." The words hung in the air between them, heavy and raw.

A sudden, burning heat flushed across Basil’s cheeks, a soft red stain creeping up his neck that he couldn’t stop no matter how hard he tried. He quickly looked away, his jaw tightening as he stared fixedly at a nearby clothing rack.

Of all the answers Darius could have given, that had not been one of them.

Why would anyone choose a favorite color because of someone’s eyes?

More importantly, why had hearing it made his pulse jump like that? Fuck...I’m cooked.

The attendant, completely oblivious to the thick tension that had suddenly settled between them, stepped in with an eager smile. "Ah, green is an excellent choice, Your Highness. We have a stunning selection of emerald, olive, dark sage, and deep forest tones in our winter collection, as well as some beautiful lighter shades. Allow me to bring them over. I think several of them would suit Prince Darius perfectly."

He hurried off to fetch the pieces.

Basil immediately seized the distraction. Stepping past Darius, he moved toward a rack of structured coats and began aggressively flipping through the hangers, selecting items that would complement Darius’s broad frame.

Darius watched his hurried movements in silence, a secret smile tugging at the corner of his lips. His eyes certainly hadn’t deceived him.

Basil had actually blushed.

He had genuinely turned red just because of a simple comment about his eyes.

Darius leaned back against a marble display pillar, his pulse beating a little faster.

Does that mean he actually liked hearing it?

He wondered, watching the subtle stiffness in Basil’s movements as he pulled down a dark green shirt from a nearby display. The realization sparked something warm in his chest, making the lingering embarrassment from last night’s dream fade into something entirely different.

Maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t the only one developing feelings.

Basil had no idea what expression was currently on Darius’s face, and for that he was grateful. The last thing he needed was for the other man to notice how thoroughly that ridiculous answer had rattled him. He quickly picked out several more pieces before returning with a small stack of garments, keeping his expression strictly rigid as he shoved a dark green coat into Darius’s chest, avoiding direct eye contact.

"Go try these on," Basil commanded, his voice tight and clipped. "And don’t take all day."

Darius caught the stack, his smirk widening as though he were far too pleased with himself.

"Yes, my prince."

The title sent a sudden, sharp jolt straight through Basil’s chest. His breath hitched for a fraction of a second, his heart hammering against his ribs at the address he secretly preferred far more than he ever wanted to admit.

Darius walked into the fitting room and slid the mirrored door shut behind him, seemingly oblivious to the chaos he had just unleashed.

Left alone in the quiet lounge, Basil let out a long breath and pressed a cool palm against his cheek, trying to force the stubborn warmth down.

Goodness me, why did that title always sound so different coming from him?

Before he could dwell on the question any longer, the attendant hurried back into the lounge, his arms laden with an impressive collection of green garments. "Your Highness, I’ve gathered our finest selection in green," he said enthusiastically, spreading the clothing across the main display table. "We have these structured wool overcoats, silk-blend trousers, and a few high-collared jackets, all from our latest runway line. I believe they would complement Prince Darius’s frame extraordinarily well."

Basil stepped over to inspect the pile, using the distraction to keep his mind occupied. He flipped through the garments one by one, nodding quietly at several of the more promising choices.

"We’ll take these and these," he said, setting a few selected pieces aside. "We’ll need the high-collared jackets in his size as well."

"Understood, Your Highness," the attendant replied, bowing before stepping back to organize the selected pieces for the fitting.

A few moments later, the fitting room door slid open. Darius stepped out, adjusting the collar of the high-necked, deep green coat that fit his broad shoulders perfectly. The dark jewel tone made his sharp features stand out, framing his tall figure in a way that looked effortlessly commanding and dangerously attractive.

Basil looked up, and for a second, the words caught in his throat. He simply stared.

He couldn’t understand what was happening to him. He had to admit Darius was an exceptionally handsome man, and paired with that coat, he looked like he had stepped straight out of a luxury fashion campaign. Basil had met countless good-looking guys throughout his life, but none of them had ever affected him the way Darius did right now. He found himself gawking without realizing it, only to become annoyed when he caught himself doing it. Clearing his throat lightly, he forced his gaze elsewhere.

The realization that he was genuinely captivated by the man left him deeply unsettled.

Am I becoming gay?

The thought nearly made him choke.

But that didn’t make any sense.

He liked girls. He had always liked girls.

Was it even possible to like girls your whole life and then suddenly start liking men?

How can this be happening? We barely know each other. What am I even thinking?

How could he possibly be feeling this way about someone who was trying so hard to build a brotherly relationship with him?

A knot twisted painfully in his stomach as the thought of what Darius would think if he ever discovered the sick, twisted thoughts running through his head took hold. He felt utterly repulsive for even entertaining such thoughts in the first place. His face involuntarily contorted into a cold, grim scowl.

Darius caught the sudden change in Basil’s expression and instantly misread it.

A flicker of doubt crossed his mind.

Does he really hate the coat that much?

Trying to salvage the situation, Darius rested one hand on his hip and straightened his shoulders, letting a confident smirk play across his lips as he turned slightly in front of the mirror.

"Well?" he asked, raising a brow. "Does it not meet your standards, my prince?"

-------------------

What would you love to see in the story?