My five ghostly husbands -
Chapter 121 Angry Milo
Chapter 121: Chapter 121 Angry Milo
He let out a long sigh, leaning back against the bed. The room felt colder than usual, though he wasn’t sure why.
With his arm draped over his eyes, Adrian let the quiet take over.
But even as he drifted off to sleep, the uneasy feeling never fully left him.
Milo walked happily down the hall, clutching his pillow tightly to his chest. His steps were light, and his heart felt warm at the thought of snuggling up next to Ruby.
But as he approached Ruby’s room, his expression shifted. The door was closed.
He blinked, tilting his head slightly. Did she fall asleep already?
No, she’s probably waiting for me, he reassured himself, his cheeks flushing a little as he shyly knocked on the door.
"Wife...?" Milo called softly, his voice filled with hope.
Silence.
He knocked again, a little louder this time. "Wife?"
No response.
Milo’s lips trembled as his Brown eyes grew glossy. His grip on the pillow loosened slightly as disappointment flooded him.
Why didn’t she wait for me?
His chest tightened, and frustration bubbled up inside him. With a small pout, he threw his pillow to the ground, glaring at it as if it were to blame for his misfortune.
But after a moment, he sighed, snatching the pillow back up. It’s my only pillow... I can’t leave it.
Hugging it to his chest, he turned and ran down the hall, tears threatening to spill.
He stopped in front of Adrian’s room and knocked frantically.
"Brother Adi!" he called louder, his voice trembling slightly.
But no response came.
He knocked a second time, pressing his ear against the door.
"Brother Adi...?" he whispered.
Silence.
Milo’s heart sank. His lower lip quivered, and tears welled up in his eyes. Why wasn’t anyone answering him tonight?
"You’re all so mean..." he mumbled under his breath, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand.
He stood there for a moment, sniffling, before slowly turning back down the hall. His feet dragged against the floor, and his pillow drooped in his arms as if it carried the weight of his disappointment.
Reaching Ruby’s door again, Milo stopped. He stared at the closed door, his eyes narrowing slightly.
Maybe... she didn’t mean to fall asleep.
Milo shifted the pillow under one arm and gently knocked one last time.
"Wife...? I’m here," he whispered, his voice small.
Still nothing.
Tears pooled in his eyes again, but this time he didn’t let them fall.
"Fine... I’ll sleep alone then. No, I’ll ask Brother Karl and Julian too," Milo mumbled stubbornly, wiping his eyes with his sleeve as he turned away from his room.
He clutched his pillow tightly, marching down the hall until he reached Karl and Julian’s door.
"Brother Karl, Julian—open the door! It’s me!" Milo called out, knocking loudly.
Silence.
He knocked again, harder this time. "Come on, I know you’re in there!"
But inside the room, Karl and Julian were dead to the world.
Julian lay flat on his back, his breathing deep and even, completely unaware of the commotion outside.
Karl, on the other hand, was sprawled across the bed—half on top of Julian—hugging his brother like a pillow. His face was buried in Julian’s side, and his arms were wrapped tightly around him, as if letting go would cause him to float away.
Milo knocked once more, but there was no response. His shoulders slumped, and his chest tightened as he stared at the door.
"No one wants me tonight..." he whispered to himself, blinking rapidly to stop the tears from falling.
His hand lingered on the doorknob for a second longer, but eventually, he let it drop.
With a deep sigh, Milo hugged his pillow tighter and shuffled back down the hall, his footsteps slow and heavy.
He paused one last time in front of Ruby’s door, hesitating.
Maybe she’s awake now...
Raising his hand, he gently knocked.
"Wife...?" His voice was small, almost pleading.
No answer.
His head lowered, and he turned away, finally accepting defeat.
Milo shuffled slowly into the living room, his pillow clutched tightly against his chest.
With a soft sad sigh, he sank onto the sofa.
🪄🪄
The morning sun streamed through the windows by the time Ruby finally stirred. She stretched lazily, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she made her way toward the living room.
The house was oddly quiet, which immediately caught her attention.
As she stepped into the living room, she noticed Milo slumped at the table, his head resting on the surface, while Karl stood nearby, arms crossed and pouting.
"Milo! At least tell us what’s wrong with you. Why aren’t you talking to us?" Karl huffed, clearly frustrated.
Milo didn’t move, keeping his head down, lips pressed into a firm pout.
Julian and Adrian sat nearby, exchanging confused glances.
"Is he sick or something?" Julian asked, frowning slightly.
Adrian leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "I don’t think so. He’s just been sulking all morning."
"Nothing’s wrong!" Milo suddenly shouted, lifting his head just enough to glare at Karl before turning away again.
Ruby raised a brow at the scene, her curiosity piqued. She walked toward Milo, stopping just beside him.
"What’s wrong with you, Milo?" she asked gently, lowering her voice as she placed a hand lightly on his shoulder.
To her surprise, Milo immediately sat up straighter and shot her an even deeper glare, his cheeks puffed with frustration. Without a word, he turned his back to her, facing the opposite direction.
Ruby blinked, taken aback by his sudden coldness. "Milo...?"
"I don’t want to talk to you either!" he muttered stubbornly, hugging his arms around himself.
Ruby let out a soft sigh, raising her head and that’s when her eyes met Adrian’s.
His calm, dark gaze held hers for a brief moment, and she quickly looked away, suddenly feeling awkward.
Julian, oblivious to the silent exchange, leaned toward Milo with a gentle smile. "At least tell us what’s wrong with you?" he asked softly, trying to coax some kind of response.
Milo, however, only puffed his cheeks out further, his pout deepening as he crossed his arms tightly.
"You guys are so mean!!" Milo suddenly burst out, sitting up straight and glaring at them as if they’d committed the greatest offense.
—To be continued...🪄
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