Page 138 of Hamartia

He nods. “That is a good point, yes. So then why do you want to get married? To me. If that is a possibility?”

“I don’t think it is. Not with you.”

He gives me a look.Be clear, Raphael. Clarity, always.

“Because I love you. Because every single day I feel lucky that youlet melove you. That you chose me, that we get to have this.” I motion between us and around the room.

“Getting married would not change that, Raphael.” He squeezes my hand and gives me the fondest smile. “I love you too. So much.”

“So you don’t want to marry me?”

He thinks about this again, hard, biting his bottom lip as he does. “I do not think it would be fair.”

I frown. “Fair to who?”

“Everyone else.” My frown deepens. I see him reform his words, take a deep breath, start again. “Because of who I am, I am allowed to have my career and have this. With you. But to get to marry you also? It does not feel fair. To get married when so many men, and women, in my country cannot. When our society still views it as wrong. When they would not recognize it for what it is.” He shakes his head. “I am sorry. I love you, Raphael, I do. But I cannot marry you.”

“Shit…” I let out a breath. “I never thought about it. Not like that.”

I’d thought him lucky, lucky that he could get married even though his country didn’t allow it. But he’s right. It would be a privilege so many others don’t get to have. And it shouldn’t have to be a privilege—it should be a fucking right. I squeeze his hands tighter, loving him even more, though I hadn’t thought it possible. “It’s okay, baby. I get it. I…I’m sorry.”

He reaches up to smooth a hand over my cheek. “Do not be sorry. I am not saying never, because one day itwillbe legal in Korea; support is growing. I am hopeful it will happen soon. On that day we will get married, okay?” He gives me one of his heart-stopping smiles.

“Deal.”

“Deal.”

He waits a few beats before he asks, in an innocent, impossible-to-resist voice.

“Will you still suck my cock?”

The cameras are going absolutely nuts and there are far too many people around us. Too close to us. Pushing and shoving towards the small circle Jae’s bodyguards have created for us out of sheer strength and determination.

I don’t like it.

Screams and rabid sounding shouts of our names make me grip hold of his hand harder. It’s not the first appearance we’ve done together, we’ve done plenty now, but it’s the most intense I can remember. Apart from the time we’d landed in Korea after the story about us broke. But that was planned. We knew it was going to happen.

This feels uncontrolled and fucking feral.

I chance a look over at Jae. His expression is almost serene as we are herded through the crowd. There’s a tightness around his mouth though, that’s the only sign of how he really feels. That and the way he’s white-knuckling my hand between our bodies. I let go of his hand and pull him closer, angling him in front of my body with my arms around him as I feel a shove at my back.

I practically growl over my shoulder at the bodyguard behind me but he’s shouting over his at the crowd of fans and photographers to give us room.

I hate this. I fucking hate it.

This is mainly Jae’s fame; something on a level he is used to but that I can’t get my head around no matter how hard I try. Add me to the mix and it’s become a potent cocktail of hysteria that makes my anxiety spike through the roof.

The screams die out as we’re ushered through the glass doors into the museum. I turn on the bodyguard closest to me, practically growling.

“What the fuck was that? There isn’t a back fucking door we could go through if you knew it was gonna be that insane?”

Jae’s hand lands on my arm, gently comforting. “It was arranged, mon cheri, it is okay.”

I blink at him. “You agreed tothat?”

“The brand wanted a loud arrival, and yes we agreed.” He smiles hesitantly.

We? There wasn’t awe.There washis fucking label.