Help! I Became A Guy In A BL Novel!-Chapter 159: New Memories

Riven crouched near the edge of the bed, his hands moving with purpose as he lifted the dusty sheet that draped slightly over the wooden floorboards.

Riven couldn’t help but sneeze. He frowned at the state of this room. Just because he was not living there anymore, those servants refused to clean it.

He reached underneath, stretching his arm deep into the dark crevice beneath the bedframe until his fingers grazed something solid, cold to the touch and edged with splinters.

He tugged it free. A small, worn box, aged and unadorned, as if it had been forgotten for years. Dust clung to its corners, and the metal hinges creaked faintly as he set it down on the bed.

He was about to take a seat beside Ronan when he felt firm hands grab his waist and pull him down, not beside, but onto his lap.

"Ronan," Riven blinked, a bit flustered by the sudden closeness, "I can sit beside you, you know."

"I know," Ronan murmured, wrapping his arms around him protectively. "But I decided to do what I want, and I decided to do this."

Riven smirked. Ronan was becoming as shameless as he was. Riven kept encouraging the change in Ronan, ever since he admitted that he wanted to be selfish... Selfish with his desires. Riven thought this was progress, considering how he used to be.

And now, he was being shameless with his desires, humph!

He was no where close to Rivne, of course.

Riven went quiet, letting his weight settle against his mate. He could feel Ronan’s warmth radiating through him, grounding him in this room that felt far too cold and empty.

Riven sit still, letting his weight settle against his mate. He could feel Ronan’s warmth radiating through him, grounding him in this room that felt far too cold and empty.

Ronan looked around, and his expression turned sombre. For a room that belonged to an aristocrat’s child, it was painfully lacking. The walls were bare, washed out by years of neglect.

The furniture was sparse, a small vanity tucked in the corner, a modest bed, faded curtains that looked like they hadn’t been touched in ages, and a sitting area cramped enough to seat only three at best.

No toys. No books. No paintings. No warmth.

Ronan rested his chin lightly on Riven’s shoulder. "They really didn’t care for you, did they?" he said softly, bitterness laced behind the tenderness of his voice.

Riven gave a half-hearted shrug. "It’s not like I expected them to." He placed a hand over Ronan’s where it rested on his waist. "Besides, I stopped caring a long time ago."

But the heaviness in his tone betrayed him.

He did not expect them to, but the original Riven did. His heart ached for him.

Ronan didn’t press further. Instead, he turned his attention to the box in front of them.

Riven reached forward, lifting the lid slowly. Inside were only a few items, but the way his fingers hesitated before touching them showed just how important they were. A thin piece of cloth, yellowed with age, folded neatly. A faded letter that was too old to read, and nestled among them, delicate and small, a bracelet.

It was dainty, made of silver links threaded with tiny bells, so small it couldn’t possibly fit around Riven’s wrist. Riven held it up by the chain, letting it dangle from his fingers, the bells chiming faintly with the movement.

"This... Was hers," Riven said quietly. "I think. I don’t really know. But no one ever claimed it. So I always assumed."

Ronan took the bracelet gently from Riven’s hand, inspecting it. "It’s beautiful," he said. "Too small for your wrist, though."

"I used to wish I could wear it," Riven admitted with a little chuckle.

Ronan’s eyes lit up with a glint of mischief.

"Well," he said, fingers trailing down Riven’s back, "there is one place it might fit."

Riven looked at him in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Without answering, Ronan slipped the bracelet down and gently fastened it at the base of Riven’s tail.

Riven let out a sharp squeak. "Hey! What are you-? Wait, how did that even fit?!"

Ronan smirked, clearly enjoying himself. "Underneath all that fluffy fur is a very modest little tail. It fit perfectly. A bit tight, maybe. But perfect."

Riven twisted slightly, trying to look over his shoulder. His ears twitched as he heard the faint jingle of bells every time his tail moved.

"Oh no," he said, mortified. "It jingles!"

"Exactly," Ronan said smugly. "Now I’ll always know when you’re wagging your tail."

Riven flushed, then sighed in defeat. "Fine... It’s kind of cute," he muttered.

Ronan leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the back of Riven’s neck. "Once we’re home, I’ll modify it so you can wear it properly—on your wrist or around your neck, if you want."

Riven smiled at the thought. It was a good idea. He didn’t have much from his mother, but having this bracelet—carrying it with him, wearing it in some form—felt like something important. Something grounding.

For now, though, he let it stay where Ronan had placed it. The bells chimed softly again as he adjusted himself on Ronan’s lap, and though it should have been embarrassing, it was oddly comforting.

He leaned back against Ronan’s chest, still holding the old box in his lap, and for the first time since they’d arrived, he let himself relax.

"I said I wanted to make good memories here," Riven murmured, turning slightly in Ronan’s lap to face him properly. "That was my vow. I don’t want this place to only hold pain."

Ronan’s expression softened. "Then let’s do that. Together."

Riven leaned in slowly, placing his arms around Ronan’s neck, drawing him closer. Their foreheads touched for a moment, breaths mingling. Then, without hesitation, Riven kissed him.

It was slow at first, soft and gentle. A kiss filled with unspoken words, a quiet promise that maybe, just maybe, this room didn’t have to remain a grave for his past.