Entwined in the Steam

Chapter 4: A Bit Too Obvious, Dear - Show Some Restraint

Late into the night, Oliver Adler lay in his bed, a faint light seeping out from beneath the covers. He was tucked under his duvet, phone in hand, the screen showing his conversation with Ethan Hawthorne. The last message was still the little chibi drawing he'd sent at midday. Ethan Hawthorne had said thank you in person, but hadn't replied since.

The time ticked over to exactly midnight. Oliver typed "Happy Birthday" into the message box, his finger hovering above the send button for what felt like ages. After a full minute of hesitation, he let out a soft, quiet sigh, deleted the words, closed the app, and placed his phone on the bedside table. He pulled the covers tight and shut his eyes, but sleep seemed miles away.

Knock knock knock.

Oliver had no idea how long he'd been lying there when the sound came at his door. He frowned, sat up, and switched on the bedside lamp.

A chill draft rushed into the room the moment he opened the door, most of it blocked by the tall figure standing there. Oliver stared blankly at Ethan Hawthorne.

The birthday party from the early hours had just ended. Ethan, in his long black coat, carried a faint mingling scent of cigarettes and alcohol. There was a hint of drunkenness about him, and beneath his deep, dark eyes, a dangerous, suppressed energy seemed to be seeping out, thread by thread.

The room's main light was off, and the hallway was dim. For a long moment, he simply looked down at Oliver, who had tilted his pale, porcelain face up at him. Then the corner of Ethan's mouth twitched upwards, the chilling, formidable aura receding slightly. He held out a small, exquisitely wrapped cake.

Oliver looked at it, but didn't take it.

"Take it," Ethan's voice was a little rough. "Birthday cake. For you."

Oliver finally reached out and accepted it, cradling it in his hands. "Thank you."

Ethan's gaze drifted down to the open collar of Oliver's thin pyjamas. He frowned slightly. "Go back to sleep. Put the cake in the fridge. Eat it when you wake up."

With that, he turned to head back to his own room - the air conditioning had been fixed that afternoon.

Suddenly, Oliver took two steps forward, his hand shooting out to hook around Ethan's arm.

Ethan stopped. His eyes dropped to the hand on his arm, the knuckles white from the tight grip.

"Ethan Hawthorne." Oliver's voice was small. "Happy Birthday."

The whisper trembled slightly. It was impossible to tell if it was from the cold or from nerves.

Ethan turned back, pulled his arm free, and instead rested his hand on Oliver's shoulder, half-leading, half-pushing him back into the warm room. His other hand found the top of Oliver's fluffy head, ruffling his hair gently. "I am happy," he said, his voice low. "Because I received a very, very good gift."

Oliver just looked at him.

Ethan sighed silently. He lifted his hand and covered those clear, painfully honest eyes. "A bit too obvious, dear. Show some restraint."

Oliver's eyelashes fluttered against his palm. The pale skin of his face gradually bloomed with a delicate pink flush. Had he been seen through?

The tickling sensation from the fluttering lashes made Ethan's hand twitch. He withdrew it, but not before letting his fingers brush lightly against the soft cheek. A small smile played on his lips. "An elevator meeting. A beauty just out of the bath. And then, conveniently, the air conditioning breaks. If this hotel and its staff weren't owned by your family, I'd think it was fate, pure and simple."

Oliver pressed his lips together tightly, watching Ethan with a flicker of unease.

Ethan's hand moved to the door handle. "It's late. Go to sleep. Goodnight."

"Goodnight…"

Oliver didn't sleep a wink all night. When he got up the next morning, his face was even paler, though his spirits seemed oddly alert. After washing up and getting dressed, he left his room. As he passed the tightly closed door next to his, his footsteps faltered for a second. He buried half his face in his scarf, lowered his head, and headed for the elevator.

Downstairs, the moment he stepped out of the elevator, he saw the receptionist frantically making eye contact with him, gesturing wildly towards the main entrance.

Oliver blinked, then hurried outside.

Just beyond the grand doors, several incredibly expensive-looking luxury cars were queued up, driving away one by one. Ethan Hawthorne was getting into the last one - a black Porsche.

Sebastian Sterling was saying goodbye to Adrian Adler. "Adrian, thanks for your hospitality. We'll catch up when you're back in Capitalis."

Adrian Adler nodded. "Alright. I won't see you off then. Capitalis it is."

"Off we go. Bye."

Sebastian Sterling, just before getting into his car, spotted the motionless figure by the entrance. He grinned and waved cheerfully. "See you later, little brother Oliver!"

Adrian Adler turned. His expression softened as he beckoned. "Oliver, come here. See our guests off."

The rear window of the black Porsche, which had been firmly shut, was now half-open. Inside, Ethan Hawthorne sat, his face expressionless as he looked out.

Oliver didn't move. He simply stood there, quietly meeting Ethan's gaze. After a long, silent moment, he turned and walked back inside.

"Ah…" Adrian Adler shook his head in resignation. "My apologies. He must have gotten up too early. A bit grumpy."

Sebastian Sterling pulled his car door open. "Oliver's still shy, I reckon. When you're back in Capitalis, I'll take him out, get him used to things."

Adrian nodded, then looked towards the car. "Safe travels."

Ethan gave a noncommittal "Hm," and the window glided back up. The car pulled away smoothly.

Oliver returned to the lobby, his face a blank mask. The reception desk staff, the housekeeping manager, and a few other employees gathered around him.

Seeing his low mood, they wanted to ask questions but didn't dare. They could only offer quiet words of comfort.

Lily Bennett patted his shoulder, playing the role of the wise elder sister. "It's alright, really. Once you go back to Capitalis, there'll be plenty of chances to meet."

"Yeah, yeah! Our little boss is so handsome. If he chases someone, it'll be a piece of cake."

"Honestly, if it doesn't work out, we don't have to hang all our hopes on one tree. Capitalis is full of handsome young men…"

It had happened by accident once. A receptionist had glimpsed a sketch of a man on Oliver's tablet. After some gentle prying, Oliver had openly admitted he'd had feelings for someone for a very, very long time…

As the small group of women chattered and fussed around Oliver, trying to soothe him, they spotted Adrian Adler entering. They scattered like startled birds.

Adrian Adler walked over to Oliver, his expression dark. "Had breakfast?"

Oliver kept his eyes downcast. "No."

"Come on. Have breakfast with me."

In the restaurant, the two brothers sat facing each other.

Adrian took a sip of his coffee, watching Oliver stir his bowl of congee aimlessly. The sight made his temper flare. He set his cup down with a heavy clink.

Oliver glanced up at him. "What?"

Adrian let out a short, humourless laugh. "I was about to ask you the same thing. What are you playing at? Getting the staff to go along with your little schemes? You know exactly who Ethan Hawthorne is. If you'd really annoyed him, all my arrangements these past few days would have been for nothing."

Oliver put his spoon down, his eyes suddenly wide and hopeful. "Did I make him leave?"

"…"

Adrian felt a knot of frustration tighten in his throat, but he couldn't bring himself to be harsh. He spoke more gently, though his words were still sharp. "No. They were always leaving today. There's another birthday party for him in Capitalis tonight."

Oliver's spirits lifted just a fraction, only to sink again a second later. "He didn't even say goodbye to me."

"Hah. It's a one-sided crush. Ethan Hawthorne probably doesn't even know who you are. What's there to say?"

"He knows. Last night…"

Adrian's ears practically pricked up. "Last night? What happened last night? What did you do?"

Oliver pursed his lips. "Nothing."

Adrian softened his tone further, though the words that came out were brutally direct. "Oliver, you won't get him. You've seen it yourself these last few days. He's the sole heir to the Hawthorne family in Capitalis. Wherever he goes, people fawn over him. That kind of lavish, decadent life you hate so much? It's his everyday normal."

"Don't be fooled by that gentle, refined exterior. Underneath, he's cold as ice. He's dangerous. Getting too close will only get you hurt, and it'll be you who ends up bruised. I don't know when you started liking him, but listen to your brother. Let it go. Put it out of your mind."

Oliver pushed his chair back, stood up, and left the dining room without a word.

Adrian sighed. Seriously? You've been in Cloudhaven since you turned eighteen. You've never even been back to Capitalis. When on earth did you fall for Ethan Hawthorne? This kid's growing up way too fast!