Fallen General's Omega (BL)-Chapter 267: End this

267 – Roman POV

From the large arched window of my bedroom—yes, I have a private room in the estate, all the sentinels do apart from Victor ofcourse—I peer down at the western slope leading toward the main house.

And there they are.

The infamous Crimson General and his radiant husband, returning like a pair of misbehaving students sneaking back to the dorms after curfew.

They’re both wearing that post-debauchery disheveled look: Thorne’s collar is half undone, his belt clasp barely holding on for dear life, and Noelle has leaves in his hair. Literal leaves. There’s even a bit of moss on his shoulder. It’s like nature personally signed off on whatever happened in those woods.

I squint.

Is that... a flower petal on Thorne’s cheek?

Noelle is smiling, soft and satisfied, cheeks flushed as he casually brushes grass and greenery from his hair, completely unbothered. Meanwhile, Thorne is trailing behind, looking like a smug bastard with the most idiotic grin on his face.

This man once sent nobles fleeing from a single glare. Now? He’s got twigs in his boots and a face that reads like he just conquered an entirely different kind of battlefield.

Truly, we live in wild times.

I’m still watching, somewhere between amusement and secondhand embarrassment, when I feel arms slide around my waist. Bare skin against my back. Familiar, comfortable, and just warm enough to know exactly who it is without needing to turn around.

"What are you staring at?" Felix’s voice is lazy, teasing. He leans over my shoulder, peering out the window.

The moment his eyes fall on the same scene, he lets out a low laugh.

"Oh gods. Again?"

"Apparently," I mutter.

"They have a bed," he adds helpfully.

"They have several," I correct.

Felix chuckles, resting his chin on my shoulder. "You think they even remember the house has walls?"

"At this point," I reply, "I think they’ve made it a sport."

We both watch as Noelle swats Thorne on the chest playfully. The general only leans down to kiss the top of his head like a man utterly, hopelessly in love. No shame, no hesitation.

And maybe it’s a little disgusting how perfect they are. If it weren’t so honest, I’d call it staged.

I sigh, dragging a hand down my face. I’m going to have a hell of a time explaining this to the staff I’m planning to hire for the estate.

How exactly do I phrase it?

Felix’s arms are still wrapped around me, his warm breath at my ear.

"Maybe they’re onto something," he murmurs. "We had our fair share of outdoor fun, remember?"

I snort, turning to face him. "Yeah, but that was because we were ducking bullets or hiding in enemy territory. Our quickies were more about survival than scenery."

His grin is lazy, but it falters at the edges. Just slightly. The kind of crack only I would notice after all these years. I rest my forehead against his bare chest and let the silence linger. It’s comfortable between us—always has been.

But lately, it’s started to feel...hollow.

I don’t want to admit it. I never do. But it’s gnawing at me.

For years, it’s just been this. Physical. Fleeting. Touch and sweat and breathless release.

And the thing is—it’s not bad. It’s never been bad. Felix knows my body like a second skin. The chemistry has never flickered, never faded.

But I think somewhere between the battlefield and the estate, between blood and peace, I started wanting more.

Probably the influence of those two outside, tangled up in vines and domestic bliss.

"I swear, you always get this look in your eyes before you try to talk me into one more tumble," Felix says, giving me a cocky smirk.

"Always," I answer without missing a beat, pulling him toward me and brushing my lips over his. One last time, maybe. My hands find his neck, pulling him down with me.

And we fall into each other again.

*

The room is quiet, save for the sound of clothing being pulled back on, the faint scrape of boots against stone.

I’m still in bed, the sheets bunched around my waist, watching as Felix buttons his shirt. He moves in easy motions, like this is just another morning. Like nothing’s changed.

The bed feels colder than it should.

My fingers itch for a smoke. I haven’t touched one in months—not since I started spending time around the kids and Mona. Didn’t want to be that adult.

"I’ll see you later," Felix says as he reaches for the door. freёnovelkiss.com

And the words come out before I can stop them.

"Let’s stop this."

He freezes.

"What?"

I stare at him. The words hang heavy in the air between us, heavier than I expected.

"What do you mean, Roman?" His voice is quieter now. Not angry. Not defensive. Just... confused.

But I’m not taking it back. Not this time.

"I’m tired, Felix," I say, and my voice sounds foreign even to me. Like I’ve finally cracked something open inside myself.

"But we literally just had sex." He laughs, like maybe this is a joke. But his fingers are tugging at the skin around his nail.

That old nervous tic. He doesn’t even realize he’s doing it.

"I know," I murmur, staring at him. "That’s the problem."

"What?"

"I’m in love with you, Felix."

The words land in the space like stones. Not new. Not shocking.

I’ve said them before.

Everyone knows.

"I’ve been in love with you for years. I didn’t care that you didn’t feel the same way. I thought having a piece of you was enough. But it’s not anymore. I want all of you or nothing at all."

He stands there, still tugging at his nail. Still silent.

I feel foolish. Exposed.

I sigh, looking away.

He opens his mouth, and for a second, I think maybe—just maybe—

"I’m sorry," he says.

I close my eyes.

"I know," I whisper.

And that’s the end of it. He doesn’t say he loves me. Doesn’t beg. Doesn’t argue.

Because he can’t give me what I want.

And I can’t keep pretending that it’s enough.