Chapter 6 - Ange, My Angel

Translator's Note:

Hello, I hope you've all been doing well.

Here you go, and I wish you a good read.





Encounter (6)



Suddenly, long, slender fingers reached out and brushed gently against the corner of Ange's eye.

 

He has such beautiful hands… Ange thought. Hands that clearly had never known hardship.

 

"These beautiful eyes of yours… Someone could gouge them out, preserve them in formaldehyde, and add them to some twisted collector's gallery."

 

As the young man spoke, Ange knew, deep down, that he was probably right. But at the same time, an inexplicable anger welled up inside him.

 

Tall, strong, blessed with good looks, radiating a natural Alpha's aura…

 

—What could a pampered rich boy like him possibly know about my life?

 

"I don't care if some old pervert turns me into his plaything or pumps me full of drugs. I've got nowhere to go—no place to call home. You understand, right? I'm an Omega with no family, no one to rely on. My body's all I've got to survive. If that man could get me work, I'd do whatever it took for the money!"

 

Ange slapped the young man's hand away and stormed off.

 

"Wait! Please, wait!" the young man called after him, quickly catching up and grabbing Ange by the shoulder.

 

"What do you want? Let go of me! This has nothing to do with you, so just leave me alone!"

 

"I can't leave you alone. I've been watching you. You've been pacing the same street over and over, and I couldn't just stand by and do nothing. You were clearly in danger."

 

"What? Are you some kind of stalker? Or are you planning to buy me yourself?"

 

Ange didn't mean what he said. It just slipped out in frustration. But the young man took his words seriously, his face turning awkward with guilt.

 

"Sorry… I can't do that… I'm still a minor…"

 

—Of course…

 

Despite his mature appearance, the boy had given off the impression of being close to Ange's age, or perhaps even younger, from the very first moment he had rushed over.

 

"How old are you?" Ange asked.

 

"Eighteen…"

 

"You're younger than me? Wait, are you still in high school?"

 

"…Yeah," the boy replied quietly.

 

The thought of a high schooler worrying about him, telling him to go home, stirred a sense of shame in Ange. A bitter, self-deprecating smile spread across his face.

 

"So, a high school kid was worried about me, huh?"

 

"Kid? How old are you, anyway?"

 

"…Nineteen."

 

When Ange answered honestly, the boy's amber eyes widened in surprise before he let out a soft laugh.

 

"Well, that's only a one-year difference!"

 

"A high school student and an adult are worlds apart!" Ange snapped back.

 

This made the boy laugh even harder, his voice ringing out.

 

"Haha, you're cute when you get all worked up!"



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