webnovel

GAY NOVELIST

Renji Isamu. Male, 29 years old. Bisexual. Number 1 celebrity gay novelist in Japan. Handsome, thick wallet, professional, but live in sorrow. Renji is used to doing one night stands. With mens. With girls. With friends. With whores. For him everything is same. In the past, Renji wasn't like that. Deep disappointment has changed him. His father hates him being able to love men too, Renji is separated from Veer and his family from Netherland. He fled ... And then lived alone in Japan. In Japan Renji falls in love with Jean. A girl. But, he fell broken again. When he was about to get serious with Haru, a guy, reality had slapped him hard. Two failed marriages. Renji doesn't want to live a life of romance and fuck everyone. However, one day Renji met Ginnan Takahashi. A gigolo. Male prostitutes in a 24 hour bar. They met accidentally. They stare at each other without a plan. And they fell in love with so many stories. . . . . A POETRY FROM GINNAN TO RENJI: ["I could be anything in the world, but i wanted to be his"] ["I don't believe in magic, but they said 'You will, when you see him"] ["He is a mess, but he is a masterpiece"] ["And how dare the world to take him"] ~ Amsterdam, Midnight. . . . Follow My IG: @er_himmel

Om_Rengginnang · LGBT+
Not enough ratings
213 Chs

No need to read. Chapter accidentally double-updated.

Ryouta returned to enjoying his lasagna carefree. The man thought Nana would give a favorable response as there would be double the effort. But Nana who immediately continued to eat and remained silent actually made her turn her head.

"What happened to you?"

"I'm fine," said Nana. "Why me?"

Ryouta stared at Nana's face for a while before focusing on those eyes that turned away from her. "If not all of them, then what?" he asked. "Yesterday my work was done early. So I have two days off. Why don't you just tell me?"

If I told you would you like to hear it?

Just now Nana thought about it, Ryouta put down his chopsticks because he felt uncomfortable. The man turned Nana's shoulders to him, then brought his face closer so that their eyes met so straight.

"Are you in trouble?"

"Yes…"

"What?"

"I find it hard to say."

"Even to me?"

"Yes."

"Is this about our child?"