Morgin P.O.V. 3rd person
As the redheaded boy was talking to his crush, laughing a bit and him watching their shy form work as they cleaned the household, one of the slaves approached the two. She quickly grabbed their attention, and they quit their whispering.
"(y/n), Lord Jamil has requested to see you," she explains, and the (h/c) haired child nods. They immediately know what this means, but Morgin is left in the dark. Beginning to follow after the slave, (y/n) left the rest of the work to Morgin. He reached out for their hand, pulling them back to face him.
"Wait!" Their (e/c) eyes met his and he's quick to let go after catching sight of those lifeless orbs. Their true feelings slipped out as he saw what was hidden behind that usual optimism. "Never mind, it's nothing." Morgin said internally stabbing himself for that foolish action. He let (y/n) go, but decided to follow… just to see what that man needed from them.
He found (y/n) on their Master's lap, the lord's arms wrapped around their waist and a smirk apparent on his face. "Why don't we continue more from the other night?" (y/n) blushes a vibrant pink, feeling his bulge from underneath their dress. They only nod at their Master, but Morgin easily picks it up.
The fanaris boy didn't want to see anymore. His hands pulled the door shut so they'd know someone was watching them. His red eyes burning, Morgin considered that simple action all the defiance he needed. He stormed down the hall and away as if he didn't see anything. Because he'd just have to push it out of his mind, like everything else. Where it would eventually come back at him.