Chapter 121: We can’t win

"Stay for the night."

Of course, he didn’t even hesitate when proposing something like that.

Blake blinked once before laughing.

"Ah, should I? Still, I wouldn’t want to impose now..."

"It doesn’t matter."

That was exactly what he wanted to hear.

Before he knew it, he was already wrapping his arms around him again, a laugh escaping at the same time.

"If you say so!"

Really, why should he refuse?

At this point, he probably wasn’t even capable of pretending he didn’t want to stay.

"Do you have clean clothes in your backpack?"

Blake nodded.

"I mostly used the clothes they gave me there, so I still have my pajamas."

At that, a thoughtful hum came from Myles. Fingers absentmindedly caught a loose strand of hair and slowly twirled it before letting it fall again.

"What do you want for dinner?"

The question caught him off guard.

Honestly, he should have had an answer.

Instead, he tilted his head and stared at the ceiling for a moment.

Dinner, right... somehow he hadn’t thought that far ahead.

"You can decide."

"No."

"No? Why?"

"You have to decide."

Blake stared at him for a second before laughing.

"Fine, fine. I’ll decide. But if you don’t like my choice, you have to say so."

"There’s nothing in particular I dislike."

That answer was definitely suspicious, if not completely false!

Scratching the back of his head, he squinted slightly.

"You don’t like sweet things, right?"

For a moment, Myles simply looked at him, silence following.

Blake immediately pointed a finger at him.

"Well, that’s true!"

"It’s not that I dislike the taste."

"Really?"

"It’s because of what’s inside it."

"...huh?"

"The amount of sugar isn’t good for the body."

A pause followed.

Then one eyebrow slowly rose.

’Now, hold on. This guy does train but, he isn’t some kind of gym enthusiast, is he?’

Was it all not just physical, but mental too?

Blake suddenly laughed.

"If you eat it in moderation, no food is going to destroy your body."

A soft hum answered him.

Leaning back against the sofa, Myles folded his arms loosely.

"Either way, I don’t mind eating whatever is on the plate."

His gaze drifted toward him.

"So there’s no need to worry about my preferences."

That only made the responsibility feel heavier.

Blake frowned in concentration.

’Dinner... dinner... what do I want?’

Something warm?

Something filling?

Something easy?

His thoughts wandered through several possibilities before his eyes suddenly widened.

"Oh."

Immediately, he leaned closer.

"I want chicken noodle soup."

Without even a second of consideration, the answer came.

"Okay."

"Thanks, I’ve been craving it."

"Since when?"

"Even at the villa."

The confession earned another hum.

Honestly, the more he thought about it, the better it sounded.

A warm bowl of chicken noodle soup after everything that happened this week?

Just perfect!

His good mood returned almost immediately.

Then another thought crossed his mind.

"Oh, right."

The excitement in his voice made the other look up.

"Do you want to try something new?"

Myles nodded.

"We should draw."

"Draw?"

"Last time I saw colored pencils in your room. And markers."

His grin widened.

"So supplies shouldn’t be a problem."

"...alright."

The moment he got that yes, he climbed off Myles’ lap and headed straight toward the bedroom.

Footsteps followed not long afterward.

Once inside, he immediately began gathering supplies.

By the time he was done, the bed looked more like an art station than a place meant for sleeping.

After sitting cross-legged on top of it, he proudly gestured toward everything.

"Alright."

Myles also settled down, right across from him.

"We’ll do drawing challenges!"

"Who decides the winner?"

"Our honest judging? Or, at least, my honest judging."

Myles raised an eyebrow.

Blake huffs, patting his shoulder.

"Listen. No ego allowed, if it looks bad, it looks bad."

"I am objective, don’t worry."

"Knew I could count on that. Let’s do four rounds, for now."

After thinking for a moment, Myles nodded.

"Then I’ll choose first."

"Go ahead."

A short pause followed.

"A rainy day."

Blake immediately grabbed a pencil.

"That’s easy."

As it turned out, it wasn’t, at least not entirely.

Both of them became surprisingly focused.

The room gradually fell silent aside from occasional pencil scratches and marker caps clicking open and closed.

When the time came to compare, Blake immediately leaned over.

His own drawing focused heavily on the rainfall itself: the individual droplets, the small splashes, the reflections in puddles...

Meanwhile, the drawing opposite him focused more on the atmosphere: many dark clouds, a distant horizon, the feeling of rain approaching...

For a while, both stared at the two pages.

Then Blake sighed.

"Okay."

"You lost."

"Yeah... I lost, no need to say it so confidently."

The cloud work was annoyingly good.

"My turn. I’ll choose an apple!"

It was simple and straightforward, basically impossible to mess up!

Or so he thought.

Surprisingly, both drawings ended up looking far better than expected.

The proportions were right and the shading looked decent, even the coloring wasn’t embarrassing.

For several seconds, they compared them carefully.

Then Blake groaned.

"Why is yours shinier? So unfair."

"We used the same material."

"Yeah. Yeah."

The second victory went to Myles again.

Two rounds in, and things weren’t looking promising for Blake.

Then came challenge number three.

This time, Myles chose to draw a crow.

Maybe it was because birds were more expressive, because they had character.

Whatever the reason, the result surprised even him.

When the drawings were revealed, the winner became obvious. The crow staring from Blake’s page looked sharp and alive.

The feathers carried texture and the posture felt natural.

Meanwhile, the other attempt wasn’t bad.

Not remotely, it simply couldn’t compete.

For the first time that evening, Blake raised both arms triumphantly.

"Victory."

"..."

"Say it."

A sigh.

"You won."

Satisfied, Blake sat back down.

Everything came down to the final challenge.

After several suggestions and rejected ideas, both eventually landed on the same subject.

A lotus flower.

The moment he heard it, something clicked.

Maybe spending an entire week staring at flowers as one of his only sources of entertainment had done permanent damage.

Whatever the reason, his pencil moved almost automatically.

Petal after petal.

Layer after layer.

The lotus on his page looked genuinely good, not just acceptable!

The final comparison didn’t last very long.

This time, victory clearly belonged to him.

Blake stared at the result, then at the flower on his phone, then back at the result.

Two wins each.

The logical conclusion would have been stopping there.

Naturally, that didn’t happen.

"One more."

Blake looked up.

"What?"

"One more round."

The challenge in his voice immediately sparked curiosity.

"Alright."

After a brief pause, the final subject was announced.

"Portrait?"

Blake nodded.

"Okay! Nice idea—"

"Of each other."

Immediately, all confidence disappeared.

"...Never mind."

"No."

"I withdraw, I’m serious."

"No."

"This is a terrible idea."

The corner of Myles’ mouth twitched slightly.

Blake looked down at his blank page with complete despair.

"Mine is going to look awful."

"It doesn’t matter."

"It absolutely matters!"

"It doesn’t."

"You haven’t seen how I draw faces."

Eventually, both lowered their pencils.

The room fell silent again.

Only this time, the concentration felt different.

Neither could simply draw an object.

They had to look at each other repeatedly, which made everything slightly awkward.

Time passed surprisingly quickly.

Eventually, both pages were finished.

The moment of truth arrived.

Blake already regretted everything.

"Can we skip this part..."

"Show it."

"Yes sir..."

The pages were revealed.

Immediately, he wanted to disappear.

"Oh, that’s so hideous... don’t stare that much!"

"It isn’t bad."

"Whatever you’re attempting isn’t making me feel better!"

His own portrait looked terrible in his eyes.

Meanwhile, the portrait across from him looked unfairly good.

The drawing showed Blake looking directly at whoever viewed it.

A faint smile rested on his face, with his hair partially covering his eyes.

The entire thing looked soft and natural, which made Blake kind of flattered for no reason.

But then, there was his own attempt.

Myles also looked directly at the viewer.

This time, however, his eyes were completely visible, with one hand partially covering his mouth.

Mostly because Blake had absolutely no idea what expression to give him and panicked halfway through the sketch.

The result wasn’t awful.

Just... strange.

After a long debate, victory naturally went to the prettier portrait.

Meaning he lost again.

Blake dramatically collapsed backward onto the bed.

"I’ve been defeated."

"No."

"I clearly have."

While speaking, they began gathering the supplies scattered around the blankets.

Pencils returned to their cases.

Markers found their caps.

Loose sheets were stacked together.

As the drawings were sorted into a pile, Myles glanced down at them.

Then he spoke.

"We’re still even."

Blake paused.

"Hm?"

The pile of papers was tapped once.

"You won two, I won two."

Then the portraits were placed on top.

"The last one doesn’t count."

Blake blinked, a laugh escaping him.

"So that’s your verdict?"

A nod.

For some reason, that answer felt perfectly fitting, neither of them argued about it after that.

And with the drawings finally put away, the matter remained settled.

Even.