Zee had always known his life was never truly his own. He grew up surrounded by rules, expectations, and a name that carried more weight than warmth. He learned early how to control his emotions, how to stand tall even when everything inside him felt empty. Until Nunu appeared. Nunu came without calculation, without fear. He laughed too easily, spoke too honestly, and looked at Zee not as an heir or a symbol—but as a man who was tired and lonely.

And without realizing it, Zee fell.

Their relationship grew quietly, carefully. Too fragile to be displayed, too precious to be risked. To Zee, Nunu was not an escape—he was home. But the world did not allow such things to exist freely. When Zee’s family found out, everything changed.

The meeting was short. Controlled. Cold. “We do not oppose your feelings,” his father said calmly. “But this relationship cannot continue.” Zee’s jaw tightened. “Why?” His mother’s gaze moved to Nunu, assessing, measuring. “We need stability. A future. A bloodline.” Zee understood immediately. He always had. Nunu stood quietly through it all, absorbing every word. He listened as his existence was reduced to an inconvenience, an obstacle, a mistake.

When the meeting ended and the doors closed behind them, the silence felt unbearable. Zee turned to him. “We’ll find another way.” Nunu smiled faintly—too gently. “You know we won’t.” Zee shook his head. “I won’t leave you.”