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Summary
Phainon groaned and dragged a hand down his face, his expression screwed up in irritation—not at Mydei, never at him, but at everything else. The missions, the reports, the meetings, the non-stop noise that had kept them apart for two whole weeks.
Usually, he didn’t really mind since it was normal for them being apart for this long, but Phainon was almost feeling sad for not having seen Mydei in so long.
He threw himself face-first onto the bed with a heavy thump, letting out a muffled string of complaints into the sheets that smelled too much like what he was trying not to think about.
"Mydei, Mydei, Mydei," he muttered into the mattress, his voice slurred with longing. “I swear, if I don’t see your face soon I’m going to combust.”
Phainon returns to his room feeling frustrated and overwhelmed with desire, missing Mydei after days apart due to their busy schedules.
Even if their relationship is complicated to say the least, who could ever blame him for yearning and longing for Mydei?