When Santichai reached the safety of his apartment, he leaned against the door, locking every bolt with trembling fingers. His mind was a storm of confusion. Why did I run? he asked himself, his breath coming in jagged hitches. They were over. He was a free man. He didn't owe Asnee an explanation, yet the mere sight of the man had turned his bones to water.
He sank onto the sofa, the heat of the room pressing in on him. He stared at the bare corner where a fan should have been. He considered the logistics of flight—quitting the clinic, packing his ten boxes, and disappearing into a new city. But Chonburi was vast, with over 1.5 million souls moving through its streets. The odds of running into Asnee again were statistically impossible. It had been a fluke. A one-in-a-million nightmare.
Besides, he loved his job. He loved the way Fon treated him like a human being rather than a servant. He didn't want to run anymore.
As the adrenaline finally began to ebb and his pulse slowed to a dull thud, a new realization hit him. In his panic, he had left the fan behind. The fan KK had driven an hour to find. The fan that represented a promise he had just made.
Santichai covered his face with his hands, letting out a soft, miserable groan. "Forget it," he murmured to the empty, stifling room. "I'll just have to buy another one."
But deep down, he knew it wasn't just about the fan. He had run away from KK, too.
With a heavy heart, Santichai boiled a small pot of water and cooked a single bag of instant noodles. He didn't have the energy for anything else. He didn't dare go back outside; he felt a prickling sensation on the back of his neck, as if Asnee were standing just around the corner, waiting for him to turn.
After a quiet dinner and a cold shower that did little to fight the oppressive heat, he lay on his bed. He focused on his breathing, trying to push the negative thoughts out of his mind, but sleep remained a distant stranger.
The night was a symphony of terrors. Every time a car door slammed in the street below, Santichai's eyes would snap open, his gaze piercing the dark as he wondered if that specific metallic clack belonged to Asnee's luxury car. Every time a heavy footstep echoed in the hallway outside his apartment, he held his breath until his lungs burned, waiting for the inevitable pounding on his door.
The 1.5 million people in Chonburi had vanished. In the darkness of his room, there was only one person.
His greatest fear wasn't just that Asnee would find him—it was that if they met eye-to-eye once more, his heart would betray his resolve. He feared he would lose his strength and crawl back into the very arms he had spent months trying to escape. He was terrified that the "angel" would win, and the "demon" would take him home.
Santichai walked into the kitchen the next morning with heavy, dark circles under his eyes. The night had been a long, waking nightmare.
"Santichai!" Fon trotted over, her face full of concern. "Are you in trouble?"
Santichai blinked, confused. "What?"
She lifted his chin, inspecting his pale face. "Look at you—you're half-dead! Did you even sleep?"
"It was just the heat," Santichai lied, looking away.
"Well, you'd better wake up," she said, lowering her voice. "Doctor Suwannarat has been sitting in the corner of the cafeteria waiting for you since five this morning."
Santichai's heart skipped. He realized how rude his sudden flight at the mall must have seemed. He found KK sitting at a small table, his expression unreadable.
"Doctor Suwannarat," Santichai whispered timidly. "Pi Fon said you were looking for me."
KK looked up. "Meet me in the parking lot after work. You forgot your fan." He stood to leave, but Santichai noticed the exhaustion in the doctor's eyes. If he had been here since five, he hadn't eaten.
"Wait!" Santichai hurried to the kitchen and grabbed a bag of pork buns and hot soy milk. He pressed them into KK's hands. "Please eat before your first patient."
KK stood an arm's length away, a small smile playing on his lips. "Thank you. Your lover is lucky to have someone so attentive." He started to walk away, then paused. "And Santichai? Call me KK."
"I... it's not appropriate, Doctor."
KK's expression hardened playfully. He tossed the food bag back to Santichai. "Take it back, then. I don't accept food from strangers. Since you refuse to be my friend, just bring the lunch we agreed on."
"But... I already gave it to you!" Santichai chased after him. "Wait! KK!"
KK stopped and turned, a triumphant glint in his eyes. "What?"
Santichai held out the bag again, his face flushed. "Just... please eat it."
KK took the bag, murmuring, "So obedient. And cute."
The afternoon was a blur of steam and industrial dishwashers. At 2:30, Pi Fon forced Santichai to take a break, shooing him out the back door with his own lunch container of sautéed cabbage and a boiled egg.
He was sitting on the narrow wooden bench when a pair of polished black dress shoes appeared in his field of vision.
"Do you mind if I join you?" KK asked.
Fon, who was sitting next to Santichai, immediately stood up. "The bench is too small for three! Doctor, you take my spot. Santichai, take an extra ten minutes." She winked and vanished into the kitchen.
KK sat down, looking at Santichai's simple meal. "Your food is delicious," he said, opening his own matching container.
"It's very plain," Santichai apologized. "I can make something else—"
"If it's good enough for you, it's good enough for me," KK interrupted. He looked out at the quiet alley. "You know, nobody has cooked a home meal for me since my nanny passed away. My parents were always too busy with business. Even after the divorce, they both moved on to new families. I've lived alone for a long time."
"I live alone too," Santichai said softly. "For about eight months now. Before that... I lived with my ex."
KK laughed lightly. "I never pictured you with a lover. What was her name? Why did you break up?"
Santichai looked at his cabbage. "I'm sorry... I don't want to say my ex-boyfriend's name."
KK's jaw dropped. He stopped chewing. "Ex-boyfriend? You're gay?"
"I don't know," Santichai whispered. "He was my only friend. He loved me so much that I thought if I didn't date him, I'd lose the only person in the world who cared about me."
"And now?" KK asked, his voice dropping to a low, serious register. "Do you like men?"
"I don't plan on liking anyone," Santichai said, standing up quickly to end the conversation. "My break is over."
KK grabbed his wrist, his grip firm but not painful. "Santichai Kittibun, I'm going to change your mind."
"Mr. KK, let go—"
KK leaned in, his breath warm against Santichai's ear. "I want you to remember this day. I'm going to chase you until you fall for me. That is a promise."
Before Santichai could gasp, KK leaned forward and pressed his lips against Santichai's in a firm, brief kiss. "A promise with a kiss," KK whispered with a grin. "See you in the parking lot."
KK walked away, leaving Santichai paralyzed on the bench. His mind was reeling, his lips tingling—until a cold, familiar voice shattered the moment.
"Santichai Kittibun."
Santichai turned. The world seemed to stop. Standing at the edge of the alley, his eyes dark with a possessive, terrifying fire, was Asnee.
"I finally found you."
"A-Asnee..." Santichai's voice died in his throat.
Santichai found himself physically unable to move. He was rooted to the spot, a bird paralyzed by the sight of a cobra. With every step Asnee took, the rhythmic thud of his designer shoes against the concrete screamed louder in Santichai's ears than a peal of blooming thunder. Asnee's fists were clenched so tightly they looked capable of crushing stone, his knuckles white and trembling with the effort of containing his rage.
"Having fun?"
Asnee's voice was a low, predatory growl that vibrated through his gritted teeth. He stopped just inches away, his eyes boring into Santichai's soul, stripping away the three months of peace the boy had fought so hard to build.
Santichai's breath hitched, his lungs refusing to take in the hot, stagnant air. He looked small and fragile against the backdrop of the clinic, a stark contrast to the towering, expensive fury of the man before him.
"Asnee... how..." Santichai's voice was a broken whisper.
"How did I find you?" Asnee finished for him, a dark, joyless smirk flitting across his lips. "You thought you could just cut yourself out of my life like those pictures in the box? You thought you could hide in this pathetic little kitchen while some doctor plays with what belongs to me?"
He stepped even closer, his shadow swallowing Santichai whole. "I told you before, Santichai. You are mine. And I don't like it when people touch my things."