Help! I Became A Guy In A BL Novel!-Chapter 99: Imperfect

Riven whispered again, "If you want me to leave..."

Riven barely had time to process Soren’s expression before he felt a hand cupping the back of his neck, pulling him closer with a firm yet almost desperate touch. His breath hitched as Soren’s lips crashed against his, rough and possessive, leaving no room for hesitation.

He refused to let Riven finish that sentence.

Water sloshed around them as Soren pushed him to the edge of the bathtub, his body pressing firmly against Riven’s. The cold porcelain against his back contrasted with the warmth of Soren’s soaked shirt, clinging to his sculpted chest and shoulders.

Riven’s hands instinctively gripped Soren’s arms, feeling the tension in his muscles as if he was barely holding himself together.

Soren’s left hand slid down Riven’s back, pulling him even closer until their bodies were flushed against each other, with no space left between them. His right hand stayed firm at Riven’s nape, fingers threading through his wet hair, keeping his head in place as his mouth moved hungrily over Riven’s.

The kiss was demanding, almost punishing, as if Soren was trying to wipe away every trace of Ronan’s touch, reclaiming what was his. Riven could feel the intensity of Soren’s emotions pouring into that kiss—anger, frustration, longing, and fear all tangled together, threatening to drown him.

Riven gasped softly when Soren bit down on his lower lip, coaxing it open and slipping his tongue inside, deepening the kiss with a fervour that left him breathless.

The taste of him was overwhelming, and Riven’s heart raced, his fingers tightening around Soren’s forearms. Despite the fierceness, there was something almost vulnerable in the way Soren kissed him.

When Soren finally pulled back just enough to look at him, his breathing was ragged, and his gaze burned with a possessive fire.

Riven’s lips were tingling, slightly swollen from the intensity of the kiss, and his cheeks were flushed. Soren didn’t loosen his hold, his eyes locked onto Riven’s like he was searching for something.

Riven couldn’t help but smile softly, lifting one hand to cup Soren’s cheek. He brushed his thumb against the wet skin, his voice gentle despite the way his heart pounded. "Are you okay with having scratches on your possessions?"

Soren didn’t respond verbally, but his lips brushed against Riven’s once more, this time slower, more controlled, almost like an apology for his earlier roughness. The kiss softened into something tender, lingering as he tilted his head to deepen it without the frantic desperation from before.

When they finally parted, Soren pressed his forehead against Riven’s, his hand still cradling his neck. His lips hovered just inches away, his breath ghosting over Riven’s mouth.

"I... Have an obsession with perfect things, things without scratches or dents. I love collecting them. But maybe... You’re imperfectly perfect. All of those... Things... Do not matter. I don’t care... About your past, or the present or the future. Whatever happened or might happen, I will still want you."

Soren let out a shaky breath, his eyes softening as he leaned in and kissed Riven’s forehead, a quiet promise hidden in the simple touch. "Besides, it’s not like I am without any scratches myself." He frowned as he thought of his own past. His head drooped.

Riven’s eyes widened just a little as he noticed the way Soren’s expression shifted, his usual confident demeanor cracking as his gaze dropped to the side.

It was rare to see Soren like this—vulnerable, hesitant, almost lost in his own thoughts. Riven knew immediately where his mind had wandered. He hated it.

Soren’s fingers unconsciously grazed a faint scar on his collarbone, and his jaw tightened. The remnants of old wounds—a brutal past that Riven knew he never wanted to talk about. Still, the shadows lingered in his ebony eyes, and Riven’s heart ached just looking at him.

The silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating. Riven reached out and cupped Soren’s cheeks, forcing him to look at him. Soren’s gaze seemed to clear a little as those vivid green eyes stared back at him, filled with determination and something so tender it made Soren’s heart clench.

"It’s not your fault," Riven said firmly, his voice unwavering despite the softness of his tone. "Don’t think about her. She doesn’t deserve a single thought from you."

Soren’s lips parted as if to say something, but Riven didn’t let him. "If I had the chance, I would have killed her before she could lay her hands on you," he growled, his fangs peeking out as his voice dropped to a low, dangerous tone. His hands remained gentle, cradling Soren’s face with a surprising contrast to the fierce look in his eyes.

A surprised chuckle left Soren’s mouth before he could stop himself. He couldn’t help it—seeing Riven all fired up like that, talking so confidently about something so brutal, was oddly endearing. Riven always had a habit of making him feel... Lighter. "You? Would kill someone?" Soren scoffed, raising an eyebrow. "You wouldn’t dare, little wolf."

Riven frowned, feeling his pride took a hit. "Hey!" He pouted, clearly not appreciating being underestimated. "I’m pretty strong, you know! You just don’t notice because I don’t want to use too much strength and hurt your pretty face."

Now, this would have been a trigger, after all, that woman loved his face. But not this time. He felt much more at ease.

Soren smirked at that, his lips curling with amusement. "Oh? Is that so?"

"Yes!" Riven huffed, looking thoroughly annoyed now. His tail flicked with agitation, and he narrowed his eyes at Soren, determined to make a point. Humph! He was strong!

He glanced down at Soren’s bare chest, noticing the smooth, fair skin exposed to him. An idea sparked, and he couldn’t help the mischievous glint that appeared in his eyes.

Before Soren could react, Riven leaned forward and bit down hard on his pectoral muscle, leaving behind a fresh set of indented teeth marks, it was right around his nipple!