Because if someone asked why, Blaine had no answer. He was tense, but thankfully, the beautiful man in front of him didn’t press the issue.
Not that he seemed to believe Blaine’s words in the first place.
Blaine racked his brain, trying to figure out what kind of tone or gestures might make him seem more trustworthy, but in the end, he gave up.
“Eat. Get better. Then go.”
When Blaine finally looked away, the man widened his eyes, staring as if he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. Avoiding that gaze, Blaine dumped the rest of the flakes into his own bowl of soup.
He was about to pull the wooden chair over when…
“Thank you.”
A tiny whisper, barely audible unless you were paying close attention, slipped from those small lips.
“You’re the first predator who’s ever been this kind.”
Below those silver eyes, still glistening with dew, the man offered a faint smile, his dimples tinted pink as he looked at Blaine quietly.
Clatter!
“Ah—are you okay?!”
“…Uhh…”
Blaine, startled, stared dumbly at the floor. Only then did he realize the soup bowl had slipped from his hands, shattering into pieces.
Panicking but unsure how to act, he awkwardly bent down to start picking up the shards.
The man, brows furrowed with concern, rushed over in quick steps.
“You didn’t cut yourself?”
“…Uh… yeah…”
Blaine had only been able to spit out one-syllable replies all day, but the man didn’t seem suspicious.
He simply grabbed Blaine’s hand and carefully inspected it.
The warmth of his skin, the feathery white strands of hair brushing his nose, and the strong scent of wood and musk hit Blaine all at once. He wobbled and slumped to the side.
For a hulking Hercules baboon like him, the sight was oddly fragile and sickly.
“Go rest. I’ll clean this up.”
“…Mmkay…”
Things were definitely starting to get weird, but Blaine didn’t refuse the kindness.
Staggering, he shuffled off and collapsed face-first onto the bed, which wasn’t far from the kitchen.
Lying down helped a bit, letting him breathe and recollect himself as memories of what just happened washed over him like a tidal wave.
What the hell is this mess?
A massive baboon like him collapsing from breaking a single dish—how pathetic. But then again… maybe this was the better explanation.
Because the truth—that a stranger’s tears and scent had left him dizzy and unsteady—was way more ridiculous.
“Um…”
Blaine had been pounding the mattress with clenched fists instead of kicking the blankets, but the voice caught him off guard.
He whipped his head around to see the source.
The beautiful man stood in front of the fully cleaned kitchen, the mess not just gone but perfectly tidied.
He looked worried as he checked on Blaine.
“I cleaned up the worst of it. Are you okay?”
“Ah… thanks…”
“No problem. But if any shards flew out, that could be really dangerous.”
He had an exoskeleton. Even if he’d rolled over the shattered plate, a tarantula like Blaine wouldn’t have gotten a single scratch.
The thought that this delicate, sweet prey had worried so much about something so silly made Blaine smile involuntarily, even in his embarrassment.
“I’m fine. Not a scratch.”
“Still. Plate shards are tiny and sharp. You could get seriously hurt by pieces too small to see.”
As Blaine laughed it off and spread his arms in a gesture of “see? I’m good,” the man ignored it completely.
With a serious expression, he strode forward and said,
“Take your clothes off.”
……?
“Huh?”
“Take everything off.”
It wasn’t just that Blaine had a slow brain—no one could’ve understood a line that out-of-place on the first try.
Blaine wanted to insist on that. But of course, no one ever accepts such a defense. It just faded into silence.
“Hurry up. Don’t tell me you’re too old to undress yourself.”
“N-No, it’s not that… I just… I don’t really get—”
“There might be shards stuck somewhere. Come on.”
Do you not understand how serious this is?
Actually, he did. He understood exactly how serious this was.
“No, no, nothing got in my clothes. I’m fine.”
“And how would you know that?”
The man’s lips moved delicately—lips as red and plump as ripe fruit—while his voice, sharp and icy, cut like a blade.
What happened to the soft, trembling tone from earlier? The tearful, trembling sweetness? Was that all a dream?
Staring at him in stunned silence, Blaine was hit by that cold gaze scanning him slowly, from head to toe. A chill swept through his body, making him shrink back.
“How am I supposed to trust a careless predator who can’t even tell if he’s hurt or not? If I stay here any longer, I might die out on the street because of your recklessness.”
The man coldly declared, shaking his head. Then he grabbed the outer garment draped over the chair and began limping away.
Blaine’s eyes went wide.
In hindsight, the whole exchange was ridiculous—but the abrupt shift and the man’s icy demeanor were so shocking that Blaine couldn’t process it.
“W-Wait! Where do you think you’re going like that?”
“Thanks for the food. Take care.”
Why the hell is this happening?!
Blaine now understood what it meant when people said they were too shocked to speak or think.
Through the chaos in his head, only one stupid prediction managed to rise to the surface:
If that injured prey goes outside like that, he won’t even survive the night.
“H-Hey!! Wait!! I’ll take them off, okay?! I’ll undress! Just don’t go!”
The desperate cry froze the man mid-step.
Blaine’s lips were bleeding from how hard he was chewing them, but the man stood silently, still turned away.
Then, without looking back, he smiled, just a little. After a pause, he turned his head and spoke, tone solemn.
“Hurel.”
“Huh?”
“My name. It’s Hurel. And I’m not ‘going’ anywhere.”
***
Another day, another failed hunt.
They said you built up tolerance to disappointment if you failed enough times—but apparently, that wasn’t always true.
Shoulders sagging, Blaine trudged home, dragging his feet.
He was planning to throw himself into bed without even washing up and soak in his misery, as usual.
But…
“I’m back, Bee-Bee~”
If not for the roommate he’d gained a few days ago, that’s exactly what would’ve happened.
The house was warm and cozy, the lights brightly lit, and a rich, toasty scent filled the air.
At the center of it all, a beautiful creature shone like a flower in bloom, smiling brightly to greet him.
“Mmm…”
Blaine mumbled, managing a half-hearted smile.
The man’s eyes widened. Then his brows furrowed with concern as he reached out.
He gently brushed Blaine’s jawline, then cupped his cheek. His palm was warm.
“What’s wrong? Didn’t catch anything again today?”
“……”
“That’s okay. Don’t worry about it. I made something really good instead.”
Behind his snowy white hair, the table groaned under a spread fit for a royal feast.
Blaine sighed deeply, each breath weighted with guilt. He didn’t feel like he deserved any of it.
Shuffling toward the bed, he muttered:
“I’m just… not feeling it today. I’ll rest a bit.”
“Bee-Bee.”
The gentle but firm voice stopped him.
With a sulky look, Blaine turned toward the sound.
The name “Bee-Bee” wasn’t even that funny anymore. His current situation was far more ridiculous.
Blaine, the baboon spider whose name started with B—“Bee-Bee,” apparently.
At first, it had made his skin crawl. But now… he understood it immediately. Amazing, what creatures could get used to.
