Chereads / [BL] THE KILLER'S WHISPER / Chapter 31 - Book II: Reminiscing About the Past 0.1

Chapter 31 - Book II: Reminiscing About the Past 0.1

Welcome to TKW Book II. What did you think of TKW book I? You are free to leave reviews, comments and feedback for the story.

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The opening of book ii starts with a flashback to sixteen years ago.

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In the cold winter of early December 1992, a couple of lovers who were two young men embraced each other on the bed, crammed together channeling the warmth of each other's bodies. The regular rumble of warm breath echoed each other.

"Noel," Walther whispered.

"Hhhm," was replied in the same way.

"Nothing, I just want to hear your voice." Walther smiled a thin, sweet smile. His faint hearing caught a soft chuckle from his lover's mouth. Walther opened his eyes to see the smile on Noel's lips.

To his dismay, Walther tightened his embrace on Noel's body, as if he didn't want to let go for even a second. "So, is this your last night with me?"

"Well, I've been staying with you for three days, so tomorrow I'm staying at my house. As agreed."

Walther sighed. "I was hoping you could increase your stay with me by one more day, so it's exactly four days, how about that?" suggested Walther, occasionally inhaling the fragrant scent of his lover's soap and natural scent.

"Isn't three days a week enough?"

Walther shook his head. "No, I don't like odd numbers."

Noel laughed. "You can't use odd or even numbers as an excuse." He thought Walther's excuse was ridiculous. "You want it changed to even?" Noel leaned in, staring so intently that the tips of their noses touched.

Walther nodded.

"In that case, I'll change it from three to two. Well, that's not odd, is it?" Noel made a suggestion. However, his suggestion made Walther frown in displeasure.

Seeing his lover's reaction, Noel burst into laughter-though he didn't know where the punchline lay. In contrast to Walther, he released the hug and moved a little, just a little, about four centimeters away from Noel.

"Tell you what, if you don't want to increase your stay at my place to four days, I'd at least like to increase our nights during the day." Walther negotiated.

Noel's laughter was silenced by the negotiation. He refused, "No!" Turning his reddened face to the side, his back was to Walther.

"Why, didn't you enjoy it too?" Walther grinned, one arm returning to hug Noel from behind. Lost in the excitement of successfully seducing his lover, Walther was determined to never let Noel go for the rest of his life.

*

Walther drove Noel to his house at night, it was because of their 'activities' in the morning, from the bathroom to the bed. They were young, at a time when passion was at its peak and stamina was still at its prime.

Noel scanned his house from behind the glass door, like a burglar staking out a house he had targeted for a long time. A grin rose on Noel's lips - there was no light from the glass window. That meant his father wasn't home. Now the two young men entered holding hands with their bodies pressed together reluctantly.

"What did your father say when he first saw me that time?" asked Walther, a curious expression on his face as he entered Noel's house and closed the door.

"He just asked 'where did you meet?' Well ... I told him you were a regular at the café where I work."

"Your father just believed you?"

Noel looked thoughtful; remembering his father's expression at that moment. "Not really, he said 'what a surprise', I replied that friendship can come from anywhere."

"What if your father comes while I'm here?" asked Walther, he was afraid that Mr. Baluev would suspect their relationship.

"We can figure it out," Noel argued. "This door will rattle if someone opens it from the outside. If you hear that, you can just leave through the window. I'll distract my father while you start the engine of your car."

Walther smiled with relief. It turned out that his girlfriend was better at hiding their relationship than he had expected.

*

Noel woke up when he felt someone touching his forehead.

"Engh ..." Noel growled softly, trying to gather consciousness. "Dad," he called out to a middle-aged man standing by the bed.

"You have a fever," Sergey said with a worried expression that he couldn't mask.

Noel shook his head slowly. "It's just a normal fever, after taking medicine from the pharmacy and resting more, it will get better."

When Noel was about to get up from his lying position, his father spontaneously prevented him and laid him back down on the bed.

"You go to school and work too hard. Rest some more, I'll make some soup and hot tea for you." After saying that, Sergey left for the kitchen.

Noel was happy with the attention his father gave him. He had not been cared for like this for a long time. Suddenly Noel wondered—would he have to get sick first, then his father would stay home longer and devote more attention to him?

If it worked, Noel wouldn't mind being sick for a few days. Sergey Baluev rarely came home because of his job as a scientist at a pharmaceutical factory.

"It smells good," Noel complimented, as the delicious aroma of the meat stew broth entered his senses.

Sergey appeared with a bowl of soup and smiled. Noel smiled back at his father's smile. He sipped hot tea and spooned a piece of potato with a small slice of meat.

"I'm sorry for leaving you so often." Sergey watched his son eat his soup with gusto, guilt evident in his tone.

"It's not my fault," Noel replied. "You shouldn't work too hard either. Take care of your health, if you get sick who will take care of me?"

"You could have lectured this father of yours." The middle-aged man ruffled Noel's blond mane anxiously.

"Dad stop it, if my hair gets tangled I won't look handsome anymore," Noel protested with pursed lips.

"Who said you were handsome, huh? You look more like your mom."

Mentioning his mother, Noel spontaneously asked a question. "Does Mom love me?" The one question he had been holding back finally came out.

Sergey gave a faint, albeit bland, smile. He added passion to every word of his answer. "Your mom loves you, she always has." Although it was only a short sentence, it was sincere.

Noel's mother died a few hours after giving birth to Noel. The young man was cared for by his father from infancy, although Sergey Baluev sometimes hired babysitters to take care of baby Noel. When Noel was ten years old, his father moved him from Moscow to Hamilton and settled in Toronto. Shut off from some of his friends, Sergey Baluev became increasingly overprotective of Noel. Forbidding his son to make friends and talk to strangers he met outside, except those he knew well. And Sergey didn't tell Noel the reason for his behavior.

An incoming message stopped the middle-aged man from ruffling his son's hair, and Sergey quickly checked his cell phone for messages. Once again, the look of concern for Noel's condition returned to his face.

Noel realized it. He knew his father would be gone again. He wanted to ask even though he could already guess one hundred percent - his father would never tell. In the end, Noel kept silent and intended; someday he would ask Yuri his best friend to investigate everything about his father.

When he felt something force its way out of his mouth, Noel covered his mouth with his hand and quickly got up to run to the bathroom sink due to the urge to vomit.

Noel tried to vomit something out of his stomach, but nothing came out at all as he hadn't eaten anything since waking up, apart from some soup his father had made. Noel was sure he was now catching a cold because he had eaten late. Luckily, he had no history of stomach ulcers.

He staggered back to his room. Noel could see his father's expression growing worried.

"Rest for a few days, I'll tell the manager at the cafe that you can't work today because you're sick."

Noel nodded, and lay back down.

Sergey wrapped his arms around his son. As the middle-aged man was about to leave, Noel quickly grabbed his father's hand.

"Where are you going?" asked Noel, still not letting go of his father's hand, like a child who didn't want to be left in daycare.

Sergey was silent, unable to answer.

Noel finally gave in. He released his grip on his father's hand, pulled back the rough blanket and stood up. He grabbed some clothes to put in a black sack bag.

"I'm going to stay at Yuri's," he said. "I've already called him."

"I'll take you—"

"No, you take care of your work," Noel replied sarcastically as he hurried away despite his weakened condition.

Sergey was about to call out, but Noel had already closed the door. He walked with a slight stagger while covering his eyes with his sleeve.

"I'm sorry, Noel." Sergey knew his son was disappointed in him. But he couldn't do much about it because of his condition. In the end, Sergey just followed Noel from a distance, making sure that his son was okay with going alone to the bus stop.

The snow fell again, flakes dancing in the air before falling. Noel shivered, rubbing his palms together, hugging his body to ward off the biting cold. After about fifteen minutes the bus arrived, he quickly boarded and took the window seat.

Upon Sergey's return home, the middle-aged man sat at the dining table. Pensive, he thought about his son who often stayed at Yuri's house.

One day Sergey went to his son's best friend's house, but Yuri told him Noel hadn't come to visit.

Sergey rubbed his face roughly, thinking about Noel who was rarely home. Even when he came, an empty house was all he found.

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