Chapter 3 : Can I Hug You?

Tristan replied to Damian''s message, gave some instructions to his assistant, and then headed home.

As soon as he stepped into the house and changed into his slippers at the entrance, the kid came running over excitedly.

"Uncle, let me take that." Damian reached out his hands, wanting to help him with the suit jacket draped over his arm.

Tristan saw the kid''s porcelain-white face tinged with a light blush from running, and the smile in his crescent-shaped eyes was impossible to hide, like a child eagerly waiting for his father to come home.

Well, he was the kid''s guardian, which was almost like being half a father.

Tristan indulged the kid''s filial piety, smiling as he handed over the suit jacket and ruffled his hair. "Alright."

Damian''s smile widened even more at the touch of his hand. He hugged the suit jacket, secretly sniffing it at his nose. Realizing his behavior was a bit too infatuated, his face turned red, and he quickly ran off to hang it up.

He then went to the kitchen and brought out two bowls of soup, calling out loudly, "Uncle, you can come eat after washing your hands."

Tristan came out after washing his hands, seeing the kid already seated at the rectangular glass dining table with the soup served, waiting for him.

Mr. Schwab, being from the older generation, had a deep sense of hierarchy and did not dine with them.

"Let''s eat," Tristan said as he sat down.

Damian nodded, then bit his lip and pointed to a dish of stir-fried meat, saying proudly, "Uncle, I made this dish."

Tristan chuckled at the kid seeking praise and graciously took a serving. "Really? Then I must give it a good taste."

Damian lowered his head shyly and murmured, "Yeah," then picked up his spoon and took small sips of the soup, trying to suppress the indescribable flutter in his heart.

Tristan finished eating and sincerely commented, "Damian, your cooking is really good. It seems like I’ve been missing out."

He rarely ate at home because he was always busy with work, often coming back late at night. Most of his meals were taken care of at the office.

Over the past few years, he had grown a small company into a large one, working tirelessly from dawn till dusk, always on guard against his covetous relatives.

Damian, a bit embarrassed by the compliment, looked up with bright eyes and asked, "Uncle, can you come home early to have dinner with me from now on? I help Mr. Schwab prepare dinner after school."

"Sure," Tristan replied with a smile. How could he refuse a child eagerly waiting for his father to come home?

Besides, his current status and position in the city were unshakeable. It was time to focus more on his family.

After dinner, Mr. Schwab came to clear the dishes.

Damian, carrying his backpack, went to his room to do his homework, while Tristan returned to his study to continue working.

Damian finished his homework in an hour, took a shower, and sat on the edge of his bed drying his hair. He remembered the puppy he had rescued yesterday and wanted to bring it home, but he needed his uncle''s permission.

He checked the time; it was only 10:30. His uncle wouldn’t be asleep yet and was probably still working in the study.

Damian wasn’t sure if now was a good time to bring it up, but after a moment of hesitation, he decided to go and talk to him.

Wearing his cotton slippers, Damian padded over to the study and knocked on the door.

After waiting for a minute without a response, he pushed the door open and found the room dark.

Scratching his head in confusion, Damian wondered if his uncle had gone out again.

Unwilling to give up, he went to his uncle’s bedroom door and knocked. After waiting for a while with no response, he was about to turn back to his room when Tristan’s door opened.

Damian looked up to see his uncle standing there, his robe half-open, revealing his tanned chest. He was momentarily stunned by how attractive his uncle looked.

At that moment, his uncle seemed incredibly sexy. Time had barely left any marks on his handsome, mature face. Even as a teenager, he had looked mature, and now he still looked the same, as if he had taken a preservative.

His damp hair fell messily over his smooth forehead, and his brown, almond-shaped eyes still held a hint of post-shower mist, making him look less sharp and more approachable.

Leaning lazily against the doorframe, Tristan looked at the dazed boy and asked, "What’s up?"

Damian was pulled back to reality by Tristan’s slightly hoarse voice. Seeing the faint smile in his uncle’s brown eyes, he opened his mouth but couldn’t speak, suddenly forgetting what he wanted to say.

His bright, deer-like eyes flashed with frustration, and he lowered his head, his face turning red.

Tristan found his guilty look amusing. Did he look that intimidating to make the kid so scared?

Touching his own face, Tristan then hooked an arm around Damian’s shoulder and led him inside, teasing, "If you’re so scared of your uncle, why did you come looking for me?"

Damian immediately shook his head at the words, though he didn’t dare look around the room. "I’m not scared," he said, just shy and nervous.

"Oh? Then why are you looking down?"

His voice was calm but seemed to have a hook, making Damian’s ears tingle. Unable to explain, he just stared at his shoes, his toes curling inside his slippers.

Tristan didn’t push him further. He sat down on the bed with Damian and spoke earnestly, "Damian, I don’t have any other family besides you. So don’t be afraid of me. I know I’ve neglected you over the years because of work. You’re not eleven anymore; you might not need me as much. But I still want to be needed by you. I still want to take care of you."

Damian was moved to tears by his words, his eyes becoming moist. The emotions he had been hiding in his heart could no longer be contained. He looked up and softly asked, "Uncle, can I hug you?"

"Of course," Tristan said, pulling the child into his arms and gently stroking his back.

The dim light cast a warm glow on the two embracing figures, creating a soft, comforting atmosphere around them.

Damian found the night surreal. He was actually hugging the person he liked, inhaling the mixed scent of body wash and masculine fragrance. He murmured, "Uncle, I used to think you didn''t like me, which is why you kept your distance."

Tristan frowned and refuted, his voice tinged with a hint of pain, "How could I not like you? If I didn''t, I wouldn''t have brought you back to raise you."

When he brought him back, Tristan was only twenty years old. He was young, full of anger, and didn''t know how to interact with a child. He had just dealt with family matters, and his company was in its early stages, so he couldn''t give him the care and attention he needed.

But even in that harsh environment, Tristan had liked Damian the moment he saw him.

Eleven-year-old Damian looked like he was eight or nine. The child had red lips and white teeth, as beautiful as a little elf who had accidentally wandered into the human world. He was smaller than his peers, and when he looked at Tristan with those doe-like eyes, he was timid, pure, and carried a hint of hope.

Tristan couldn''t understand what kind of parents could abandon him like that.

He brought him back and even tried to find his parents, only to discover that they had died in the chaos.

"I like you too, Uncle."

It was genuine affection. One day, I''ll tell you openly, Damian silently added in his heart.

Tristan''s steady face softened with a fatherly smile. He gently coaxed, "So, what brings you to see Uncle so late at night?"

Damian, feeling a bit embarrassed, pulled away from his embrace and remembered his purpose for coming. "Uncle, I want to keep a puppy."

"Why the sudden interest in a pet?" Tristan''s eyes flashed with surprise.

"I found it on my way home from school. It''s currently at the pet hospital."

"Sure."

Damian''s eyes lit up, his joy evident on his face. "Really?"

Tristan guessed he was projecting himself onto the puppy and nodded. "Yes."

"Will you like it, Uncle?"

Tristan thought for a moment. He wasn''t particularly fond of animals, but he didn''t dislike them either. He replied ambiguously, "I can accept it, as long as you like it."

"Thank you, Uncle! You''re the best!"

This time, Damian boldly threw himself into his arms, rubbing his shoulder affectionately, showing a hint of childish coquettishness.

Tristan thought the child was starved for affection. It seemed he needed to be a better guardian in the future.

"Being good to you is my duty. You''re the little one I brought up."

Damian laughed, his eyes nearly squinting shut with joy.