Mhok's pov
Driving Khun Thee is usually easy.
He's calm and attentive, the kind of passenger who doesn't distract you with unnecessary conversation. Today is no different, and yet my grip on the steering wheel is tighter than usual. The road stretches ahead, familiar turns leading toward ARSENI's mansion, the place that somehow always feels louder when Rome is in it, even before he arrives. I smiled.
Khun Thee sits beside me, checking his phone, scrolling through messages with a faint smile tugging at his lips. Maybe he is texting peach. I smiled smugly.
"You're quiet," he says casually, not looking up.
"nothing. I'm Just focused," I reply.
It's not a lie. Just not the full truth.
Rome is back.
The thought keeps circling around him, refusing to settle. I tell myself it doesn't matter. That I've seen him come and go before. That this is routine. But it never is.
The gates open smoothly, security recognizing the car immediately. Rome's mother, ms. Natlada is already waiting near the entrance when we pull up, her posture relaxed, expression warm but observant. She notices everything. Always has. Such a vibrant woman she is.
I park, step out, and open the door for Khun Thee.
Before either of us can move properly, the front door swings open.
Rome appears.
He doesn't walk. He almost runs.
"P'Kian!"
Khun Thee barely has time to react before Rome is on him, arms wrapped tight around his shoulders, face pressed against his neck like he's grounding himself in something solid.
"I missed you, P'Kian," Rome says, voice unguarded, loud with relief.
Rome's mother laughs, light and indulgent. "You'd think he'd been gone for years."
"I missed you to the point that I couldn't even breathe anymore without seeing you," Rome continues dramatically. "So I came back."
He pulls away just enough to grin at Khun Thee, then his gaze flicks toward me.
Something unreadable flashes there at his eyes that made me to continue looking into it.
I scoff softly and turn away, pretending to check something in the car. My mouth twists into something that looks like annoyance.
My chest feels warm. Ridiculously so.
Behind me, Khun Thee laughs. "You're exaggerating."
"When do I not?" Rome counters easily.
They walk inside together, Rome's arm draped over Khun Thee's shoulders like it belongs there. I follow a step behind, quietly.
Inside, the house hums with familiar comfort. The staff move efficiently, greeting Khun Thee warmly.
"When did you come?" Khun Thee asks Rome as they settle into the living area.
Rome looks genuinely offended. "What a weird question. You were the one who booked the flight."
Khun Thee pauses. "I—"
"And you were the one who sent someone to pick me up," Rome continues, turning his head just enough to look at me again. "You really know me well."
Khun Thee blinks. " Why do you think I do everything when I have an assistant?"
Rome raises an eyebrow. "No wonder everything was exactly to my taste. Even the food on the plane."
I bite back a smile.
Rome's mother calls us to the dining area before the conversation can spiral further. Dinner is relaxed, full of small talk and easy laughter. Rome eats like he's starving, talking between bites, animated and alive in a way that always seems effortless.
I watch him without meaning to. He will completely go into another world when he eats and sleeps. It would be so serene to watch him do that. I cleared my throat at my own thoughts.
The way his eyes crinkle when he smiles. The way he leans back in his chair, completely at home. My thoughts started spiralling again.
His mother watches all of us, scolding and fond at the same time.
When dinner winds down, she stands. "Rome, you should sleep. You look exhausted."
Rome sighs dramatically. Then slowly moves to the couch and sits next to his mother. He sighs looking at me and turns to her. "mom,....Why is it that P'Kian and I are forbidden to love each other?"
The table goes quiet for half a second.
Then his mother answers smoothly, unfazed. "Because it's a rule that you must follow"
He frowns. "these Rules are unfair. You and dad get to love. But not us?"
"They're necessary," she replies lightly.
Rome considers this, then grins again. "You're right. I'll break it in my dreams instead."
She laughs, shaking her head. "Go sleep."
Rome stands, stretches, then looks at Khun Thee. "Goodnight, P'Kian."
"Goodnight," Khun Thee replies warmly.
Rome's gaze flicks to me one last time.
"Goodnight, Mhok."
I nod. "Sleep well."
I don't go back to my room right away.
The house has settled into its night rhythm. Even the staff move like shadows now, careful not to wake anyone. Rome's door is closed upstairs. I know that without checking. I can feel it in the way the air feels less charged.
I sit outside, near the garden steps, where the stone still holds a little warmth from the day. The sky above is clear, stretched wide and careless, scattered with stars that look like they don't belong to anyone.
I slip my hand into my pocket before I can talk myself out of it.
The bracelet rests against my palm.
It's simple. Thin chain. Nothing flashy. The metal has dulled slightly over time, softened at the edges from being worn too often. I turn it over with my thumb until the engraving catches the light.
HBD R
Happy Birthday, Rome. And I took the another one, new with the same engraved.
I smile without meaning to.
I don't remember when exactly I stopped wearing it every day. Somewhere along the line, I decided it was safer to keep it hidden. Safer to treat it like something fragile instead of something I deserved to keep close.
He is like that too. He is something fragile and I have to be safer with him. The more close I get, the more it intends to break.
I tilt my head back and look at the sky.
The stars blur slightly, not because I'm crying. I'm not. Just tired. Just letting myself remember something I usually keep locked away.
We were younger then.
Not children exactly. Not grown either. That awkward age where you think you understand the world because you've felt one or two things deeply.
Rome had dragged me out that night.
Literally dragged.
"Come on," he'd said, fingers wrapped around my wrist, grin too bright for someone who had just been told no. "You're always hiding inside. You'll rot if you don't get some air."
"I won't rot," I'd snapped, trying to pull free. "I'm perfectly alive."
"i won't say that" he'd replied cheerfully.
We'd ended up on the roof of the smaller house, legs dangling over the edge, the city lights spread out below like a careless spill of gold. Rome had leaned back on his hands, face tilted toward the sky, completely at ease.
"You see that one?" he'd asked, pointing. "That's my favorite star."
"They all look the same," I'd said.
He'd laughed. "You're impossible."
There had been a comfortable silence after that. The kind that doesn't demand to be filled.
Then Rome had reached into his pocket and pulled out the bracelet.
"For you," he'd said, casual like it meant nothing.
I'd stared at it. "Why?"
He'd shrugged. "It's your birthday."
"You didn't have to," I'd muttered.
"I wanted to."
I'd taken it, turning it over in my hands, noticing the engraving immediately.
"HBD. R?" I'd asked.
Rome had winced. "I panicked. The guy asked what to engrave and my brain stopped working."
I'd snorted. "You engraved your own initial."
"It can stand for something else," he'd argued quickly. "Resilience. Responsibility. Really cool person. But you are not those either! ."
I'd laughed then. Really laughed. I remember that clearly. The way he'd looked at me afterward, like that sound alone was worth the mistake.
"You don't have to wear it if you don't want to," he'd added, suddenly quieter.
I'd slipped it onto my wrist without another word.
He'd smiled like he'd won something.
The memory settles in my chest now, warm and aching all at once.
I lower my gaze back to the bracelet, turning it slowly between my fingers. Back then, everything had felt possible. Back then, silence hadn't been a shield. It had just been… quiet.
I wonder when it changed.
I wonder when wanting him stopped feeling harmless.
A breeze passes through the garden, rustling leaves, brushing against my skin. I close my fingers around the bracelet and rest my forearms on my knees.
Upstairs, Rome is sleeping. Probably sprawled out, limbs careless, mind finally still after days of movement. I imagine his breathing steady, his face softer without the world watching him.
The thought doesn't hurt.
It comforts me.
And that scares me a little.
I tap the bracelet once against my thumb, like it might answer if I ask it something. Like it might tell me when I crossed the line between affection and something heavier.
The sky doesn't answer.
It never does.
I stay there longer than I should, letting the night hold me, letting memory do its quiet damage. Tomorrow, I'll put the bracelet back in my pocket. I'll put my walls back up. I'll be sensible again.
Tonight, I allow myself this.
Just Rome, existing somewhere in the world, close enough to feel and far enough to hurt.
And for now, that's enough.