Chapter 2 Know Your Place
The twilight had faded, leaving behind a shroud of darkness over the plantation. Arthit lay on the wide bed in his old room. The exhaustion from the journey and the simmering anger had caused him to drift off for a while. But just as he was hovering between dreams and reality, a sound intruded.
Knock, knock, knock...
The rapping on the teak door was hesitant and timid, yet it echoed loudly in the ears of a man who loathed being disturbed.
"Come in!" he barked, his voice laced with peak irritation.
The door creaked open slowly, and a figure slipped inside. The person wasn't lean like a typical city boy; instead, he was soft and chubby, with skin so pale it seemed to glow against the darkness outside. His large eyes trembled with fear, and his plump cheeks looked so firm they invited a pinch. But to Arthit, the sight only fueled his rage.
"P'Arthit... Uncle asked... Chin to come and get you for dinner."
The voice was soft, sweet, yet trembling. It acted like tinder to the explosion of the man on the bed.
Fwish!
Arthit bolted upright with a predatory grace. In a single stride, he was looming over the smaller boy who stood hovering by the door.
"Who's your 'P'? I'm an only child!" he snarled into the boy's face. Lookchin flinched violently, his entire body shaking. The twenty-centimeter height difference made him look even smaller.
"Chin... Chin is sorry, Khun Arthit," the pale boy stammered, bowing his head until his chin touched his chest. He didn't dare meet those sharp eyes the eyes he once longed for. The kind P'Arthit from his memories was gone, replaced by a devil ready to tear him apart.
"And get this through your head: Don't you ever dare show your face in my room again unless I order it!"
Arthit's parting words were like a blade. He hated it... hated seeing this child grown up in his house, hated that the boy's mother was living the high life in his own mother's place, and most of all, he hated those innocent, pleading eyes.
"Yes..." Lookchin whispered, turning to flee the room as quickly as possible to hide the tears welling up.
Arthit watched the rounded back retreat with a vacant stare before following him downstairs in a foul mood. He would make sure this boy knew that living here as a parasite wasn't going to be the fairy tale he imagined.
Arthit marched down the stairs, his heavy footsteps thudding against the wooden floor as if announcing to the whole house that the true master had returned. He yanked the chair at the head of the table back with a loud screech, causing Lookchin who was busy serving rice to tremble so hard the ladle nearly slipped from his hand.
"Sit down, Arthit. Na Ying made all your favorites sour curry with sea bass, fried mackerel..." Sia Son said, trying to break the suffocating silence.
Arthit glanced at the spread on the table before letting out a mocking scoff.
"Favorites? Did you forget, Dad? These were Mom's favorites. She's just cooking these to suck up to you, thinking she can replace my mother? Heh... what a joke."
"Arthit!" Sia Son slammed the table, making the curry bowls rattle.
"Please, Dear... calm down. Arthit is probably tired from his trip," Ying quickly interjected, motioning for her son to serve the rice.
Lookchin forced his shaking hands to scoop hot jasmine rice onto Sia Son's plate before moving beside Arthit's towering frame. The scent of expensive cologne wafted from Arthit cool and fragrant, yet so oppressive that Lookchin could barely breathe.
"Wo... would you like some rice, Khun Arthit?" Lookchin asked softly, avoiding those piercing eyes.
"Keep it small. Looking at your body gives me the creeps. If I ate as much as you, I'd probably be unable to walk just another prize pig guarding the garden."
The stinging insult made Lookchin's face fall so hard he wanted to crawl under the table. The chubbiness that others called cute was nothing but disgusting in the eyes of the man before him.
"Arthit... don't talk to Lookchin like that. He works hard taking care of the house," Sia Son defended his stepson.
"Taking care of the house? Or just eyeing your inheritance?" Arthit took a single bite of food before scowling in distaste.
"Tastes like trash. Keep it for yourselves. I can't stomach it."
Clang! He dropped his spoon so loudly everyone jumped. Arthit didn't care who was full or hungry. His sharp gaze snapped to Lookchin, who sat shrinking into himself. Seeing those pale, plump cheeks flush red and tremble as the boy neared tears gave Arthit a surge of twisted satisfaction.
"Oh... and mark my words, Lookchin. Tomorrow morning, you're coming to work at the warehouse with me!" Arthit barked.
"Since you and your mother are living in my house, you have to work for your meals. Don't just lay around bloating like a pig all day. It's an eyesore!"
"Yes... Khun Arthit."
Lookchin's voice broke as he stared down at his empty plate. Any hunger he had was gone, replaced by a sharp pain radiating through his chest... the pain of being lashed by the words of the man he had always admired.
Arthit stood up to his full height, his shadow looming over the trembling boy like a hawk over a wounded bird. He smirked coldly. He would torment this kid until he couldn't take it until he and his mother packed their bags and ran far away from this house forever!
After Arthit's broad shoulders disappeared from the dining room, the tension slowly ebbed away, leaving a hollow, depressing silence. Sia Son let out a heavy sigh of frustration, leaning back in his chair as he looked at his new wife with guilt filled eyes.
"Ying... it's alright. Give Arthit some time. He's still adjusting." He then turned to Lookchin, whose head was bowed so low tears were about to fall into his rice.
"And Lookchin... I'm sorry on his behalf. He's always been sharp-tongued. Don't take it to heart."
Lookchin looked up, forcing the most normal smile he could muster, despite how much his heart was shaking.
"It's okay, Uncle... I understand. I'm not angry at Khun Arthit at all."
The tremor in his voice was too much for Ying. She moved closer, wrapping her arm around Lookchin's shoulder and rubbing his back to offer warmth.
"It's okay, Lookchin... P'Arthit is just tired from his travels. Don't let it get to you, sweetie," she whispered gently.
"I know, Mom... I'll be patient," Lookchin replied softly. But in his heart, he kept seeing the cold face of the man who just left. The P'Arthit of today was so different from the one in his childhood memories. This version was cold, filled with a loathing so deep Lookchin barely felt worthy of standing in his sight.
Even after being called fat or a parasite,
a single question echoed in Lookchin's loyal heart... What must I do for P'Arthit to stop hating me?
📢 Announcement from the Author!
E-Book: I'm Nothing But a Parasite to Him is now available! 💖
Hello to all my lovely readers!
The full version is officially available on MEB now. If you've been waiting to enjoy the complete story in one go, this is your chance!
💸 Original price: 399 THB (44% OFF)
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This e-book includes the complete story along with special bonus chapters.
📖 Total content: 29 chapters
📄 Length: 470 pages (approximately 41,071 words)
#I'm Nothing But a Parasite to Him
Pen Name: Miki sunflower Tawan
I'm excited to share my latest work with you all. This is the story of "Arthit," a sharp-tongued coconut wholesaler, and "Lookchin," his adorable, chubby "parasite."Prepare to dive into a journey filled with raw drama, heartfelt warmth, and a relationship that beautifully transforms as time goes by.
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Thank you so much for reading and for al
l the wonderful encouragement!