Not Yours (BL)

Midnight.

The house was engulfed in flames, the fire crackling as smoke filled the air. People gathered outside, shouting desperately.

"Help! The lady is still inside! She'll burn!"

Inside, amidst the growing inferno, a woman held a young boy close. Her voice was firm yet gentle.

"Save yourself. Don't worry about me. Live your life."

She rushed to the window, flames licking at the wooden frame. Without hesitation, she threw the boy out. Two men standing below caught him safely.

"Jump! We'll catch you!" they shouted to the woman.

But the fire roared louder, consuming everything in its path. The woman didn't make it. The flames swallowed her whole.

The boy's screams pierced the night.

"No! My mother! Help her!"

An old woman stepped forward, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. Her voice was soft yet unwavering.

"You will live with me now, my child."

Tears streamed down the boy's face as he sobbed, the fiery glow reflecting in his sorrowful eyes.

"Ah... another dream of my past."

The man woke up, his breath steadying as he gazed around the room. The soft glow of morning light seeped through the heavy drapes, illuminating the space—a grand chamber reflecting Georgian influence, aristocratic elegance, and timeless grandeur.

A knock on the door.

"Come in."

The maid entered, bowing slightly.

"Good morning, Lord William."

She moved gracefully to the bedside table, pouring tea. But William barely acknowledged her as he took a sip—his expression soured.

"Where is Jonathan?"

he asked, setting the cup down with a sigh.

"The house butler is preparing lunch, my lord."

"Tell him to pour me tea. Now."

The maid hesitated for a moment before nodding.

"Yes, my lord. I will inform him."

She left the room and found Jonathan in the dining hall, carefully arranging the silverware.

"My lord requests you to pour his tea."

Jonathan sighed, wiping his hands on a linen cloth.

"Very well, I'll go."

As the maid watched him leave, a thought crossed her mind.

"My lord always calls for Jonathan in the morning…"

Jonathan approached Lord William's bedroom, hesitating for only a moment before knocking on the heavy wooden door.

"Come in."

Stepping inside, Jonathan bowed slightly. "My lord, you called for me."

William's gaze was unreadable as he gestured toward the tea set. "Pour me tea."

Jonathan moved with practiced grace, filling the porcelain cup. The faint scent of Earl Grey mixed with the lingering fragrance of William's cologne.

William took a slow sip, his eyes never leaving the butler. A moment of silence stretched between them.

Then, in a voice both soft and commanding, William spoke.

"Sit close to me. On the bed."

Jonathan stiffened. "My lord, I—"

"It's an order."

The hesitation in Jonathan's eyes flickered, but he obeyed. He lowered himself onto the edge of the bed, careful to keep his posture upright.

William's fingers moved, tracing along Jonathan's cheek with a featherlight touch. The butler swallowed hard, his breath catching as William's hand traveled downward, cupping his chin with a firm yet gentle grip.

The air between them grew thick, charged with an unspoken tension.

"My lord, do you need anything?" Jonathan asked, his voice steady despite the quiet tension between them.

William stepped closer, leaning in until his lips were just beside Jonathan's ear. His voice dropped to a whisper.

"I need you to think about me."

Jonathan stiffened, his breath hitching. A faint blush crept onto his cheeks as he looked away, flustered.

William pulled back, watching him with amusement. How cute.

"N-No, my lord, I—I just..." Jonathan stammered, struggling to compose himself.

William smirked. "Come now… don't you want me?"

Before Jonathan could respond, the creak of the door interrupted them. A man with Light blond hair stood at the entrance, dressed in a formal suit. His sharp gaze swept over the room.

"Is he still sleeping?" he asked, his voice calm yet unreadable.

His gaze drifted to William, who remained seated. Taking a step forward, he lowered himself into a nearby chair.

"What are you still doing in the bedroom?"

A pause followed before he added, "Father wants to see us."

His sharp gaze flickered between William and the lingering warmth of where Jonathan had been sitting moments ago.

Jonathan immediately stood, smoothing his coat. "I will take my leave, my lord." Without another word, he exited the room quietly, his footsteps fading down the hallway.

William turned his attention to Walter, arching a brow. "What is the matter?"

Walter sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I heard rumors about Mr. Gottfried."

"Rumors? About what?"

"I'm not certain, but…" Walter hesitated before lowering his voice. "I believe he's planning to shake hands with our father."

William frowned. "And?"

"Mr. Gottfried has a daughter—she's twenty-four, the same age as you. He wishes to meet our family… and I suspect he intends for you to marry her."

William scoffed, leaning back against the headboard. "And why should I?"

Walter's expression darkened. "Because he's greedy. He wants to expand his business, and marrying into our family would give him the influence he desires. He's not looking for a son-in-law—he's looking for an investment."

Walter's gaze flickered toward the door before narrowing at his brother. His voice was laced with suspicion.

"You were doing something with our house butler." He took a step closer. "He was sitting on the bed with you. Don't try to deny it—I saw it clearly."

William remained composed, his expression unreadable. "There is nothing to discuss."

Walter smirked, crossing his arms. "By the way, he's quite handsome. Good-looking, even. Why is someone like him working here? I think he'd be better suited for Molly's house."

William's expression darkened in an instant. "Watch your mouth." His voice was low, dangerous.

Walter chuckled but soon fell silent as realization struck. William studied his face before speaking again.

"Have you forgotten him? We used to play with him in our childhood."

Walter frowned. "What?"

"He is Jonathan… the son of Lord Edward."

Walter's eyes widened. "Lord Edward? The son of the king who was killed by his own blood?"

William nodded. "Yes. Jonathan is his illegitimate son."

Walter took a step back, shaking his head in disbelief. "No way… Does he know?"

"No. He doesn't."

Walter let out a sigh, shaking his head. "So that's why he's working here… What a poor kid."

He straightened his coat and turned toward the door. "Now get ready. We're going to Father's house." Without waiting for a response, he left the bedroom.

William exhaled slowly, then reached for the servant bell. A moment later, the maids entered, followed by Jonathan. The maids carefully laid out an elegant suit, ensuring every detail was perfect.

Jonathan stepped forward to assist, his fingers working deftly to adjust William's attire. As he reached for the necktie, William leaned in, his breath warm against Jonathan's ear.

"Hey… When I return home, come to my room, okay?"

Jonathan froze for a moment, his hands slightly trembling. His heartbeat quickened, but he kept his expression neutral.

"O-Okay, my lord," he answered, his voice barely above a whisper.

Satisfied, William smirked, allowing Jonathan to finish dressing him. Once fully prepared, he stepped outside, where a carriage awaited. With a composed elegance, he climbed inside, ready to face whatever awaited him at his father's house.