Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Bangkok had officially entered the rainy season.

It had been pouring non-stop for days, the kind of relentless downpour that blurred the world into moving shades of grey.

Sunlight only appeared closer to sunset, so the entire city seemed trapped under a heavy, muted sky.

Today was supposed to be just another day off for me. A quiet morning of catching up on my favorite video games and checking the assignments due by the end of next week.

The final stretch of the semester in the architecture department was brutal enough without added surprises.

But then my roommate, classmate, and best friend — Sky, woke up with a fever.

Ordinarily, that wouldn’t have been a disaster.

The problem was that Sky was scheduled to interview the head of one of the most influential architecture firms in all of Asia, and a former graduate of our own faculty — Phayu Theerapanayakul.

I still remember how happy Sky looked when he finally got the confirmation email from Phayu’s secretary.

He was ecstatic for days.

But now, lying on the couch wrapped in a blanket, that excitement had completely vanished.

Instead, he pleaded with me, begged, even—to go in his place.

"We can’t lose this chance, Rain,” he said between coughing fits.

After hours of persuasion, guilt, and melodramatic sniffles, I finally agreed. And now, when I was already starting to feel nervous, Sky suddenly decided to critique my outfit.

“Rain… are you seriously going like that?”

He eyed me from head to toe. I stared back, dead serious. I was wearing regular jeans, my favorite sneakers, and an oversized shirt.

“Uh… yes? Why? What’s wrong with it?”

Sky sighed dramatically, took a sip of his tea, then sniffled.

“Did you read all the questions? And all the information about him?”

A spark of irritation slipped into my voice.

“Yes, Sky, I read your questions. And yes, I read everything available about Phayu — which, by the way, is barely anything. Besides, why would I need all that? I’ll take the interview and then I’ll never see him again.”

I grabbed the notebook and my car keys. Sky watched me from the couch, clearly unconvinced.

“Call me when you’re done. And be careful. It’s pouring out there.”

I nodded and headed for the door.

Outside, I opened my umbrella and hurried to the car.

Once inside, I turned on the radio, buckled up, and drove toward central Bangkok — toward one of the tallest, most expensive buildings in the entire city.

The name “Storm Enterprises” gleamed across its mirrored surface.

Traffic moved quickly at first, but as soon as I approached the city center, I hit a wall of congestion.

Great. If I’m late, Sky will absolutely kill me.

I exhaled, staring ahead.

The high-rise tower loomed in the distance.

It was strange how little information existed online about Phayu Theerapanayakul.

No social media. No public appearances. No interviews.

The fact that he agreed to this one— our tiny graduation newspaper, felt suspiciously out of character. But considering how much the university adored him, maybe this was his way of giving back.

Still… he didn’t seem like someone who had much in common with ordinary people.

A loud honk startled me. Green light.

I accelerated through the intersection and, twenty minutes later, finally parked a few steps away from the entrance. Umbrella open, I walked inside.

The lobby was enormous.

People in expensive tailored suits rushed past each other; the receptionists sat with perfect posture behind polished desks, every movement sharp and elegant.

Okay… Now I understood why Sky questioned my outfit. The air felt almost too sterile. I took a steady breath and approached the receptionist.

“Good afternoon, I’m here to… um… I’m supposed to interview Khun Phayu. Well, my friend was supposed to, but he’s sick so I—”

The woman cut me off with a slight, polite smile.

“And what time was your appointment?”

“Uh… 16:30.”

She began typing.

Why did I feel so out of place?

Right— because I absolutely did not belong in this atmosphere. The receptionist finally looked up and handed me a card.

“Khun Theerapanayakul will see you in ten minutes. Please go to the 50th floor. Show this card to his secretary and he’ll admit you. I’ll also need to take your fingerprint for identity verification. Standard procedure.”

Fingerprint? Seriously?

“...Sure.”

I placed my finger on the scanner.

She nodded in approval.

“This way, Khun Rain.”

She pointed toward the elevators.

To reach them, I had to pass through metal detectors and security gates.

The entire environment wrapped around me like a cold, expensive pressure.

My nerves weren’t helping.

Fifteen minutes. Just survive fifteen minutes of this interview. Then I can go home and rest.

The elevator doors slid open on the 50th floor.

A reception desk stood to the right, the company emblem shining behind it, and straight ahead — massive double doors. The secretary, as elegant as the women downstairs, glanced up.

“Khun Phayu Theerapanayakul’s office. Your authorization, please.”

I handed her the card.

She nodded, walked to the huge door, opened it slightly, slipped inside, and closed it behind her.

Silence. Deep, heavy silence.

The ticking of a clock was the only sound.

Everything here was decorated in muted tones, but despite the grey sky outside, the floor was flooded with light.

The secretary stepped out.

“Khun Phayu will see you now.”

I nodded, inhaled, and entered.

Naturally, because this is my life—I tripped over an invisible threshold and practically fell into the office on my knees.

“Fantastic…” I muttered. “Great.”

As I tried to get up, I heard footsteps.

Slow, controlled, and a voice.

A low voice. Steel-smooth. Authoritative.

“Are you alright? Did you hurt yourself?”

I looked up.

A man stood before me.

Tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in a midnight-blue suit.

His hair was slicked back, a few strands falling artfully over his face, with several gathered into a small knot.

A silver earring glinted in one ear. Lightning flashed behind him, illuminating his features.

His dark brown eyes were fixed directly on me.

For a moment, I forgot how to breathe.

He extended a hand toward me. I reached up and managed to force out a sentence.

“I—I’m fine. Thank you…”

He helped me to my feet.

He was taller. And definitely stronger.

A wave of unease, and something else — rolled through me.

“Please, come in, Khun Sky. We have fourteen minutes left. Let’s not waste time.”

He turned and walked toward the enormous desk facing floor-to-ceiling windows.

For a second, I forgot my own name.

“ Khun Sky…?” Phayu repeated, glancing back at me.

Get it together. Now.

Chapter Text

“Khun Sky…?” Phayu repeated, his eyes fixed directly on me.

“Ah—sorry.” I hurried toward the large leather chairs opposite his desk.

“Actually… my name is Rain. Sky couldn’t come. He’s sick, so he sent me instead.”

A faint smile tugged at the corner of Phayu’s lips as he leaned back in his chair.

He studied me with a gaze so focused it made the back of my neck prickle.

I shifted, trying not to crumble under that silent assessment.

I pulled out my laptop, opened the tab with Sky’s questions, reached for my notebook and —

Nothing. No pen. Not even a pencil. Oh God. Sky is going to murder me.

Phayu had clearly noticed that.

He let out a slow, controlled breath, rose from his chair, walked around the desk, and stopped in front of me.

Leaning lightly on the surface, he extended a pen.

“Thank you…” It came out almost like a whisper.

He folded his arms across his chest.

I turned on the recorder on my phone and forced a shaky smile.

“Are you ready…?”

“I’ve been ready for a while,” he replied, a trace of impatience in his voice.

I cleared my throat, trying to steady the tremor in it.

Focus, Rain. Breathe.

I glanced at the first question.

“You’re only twenty-seven, yet you’ve achieved global success, building an entire empire at such a young age. Um… how did you—”

He cut me off effortlessly.

“How did I achieve it?” he repeated.

I winced and nodded awkwardly.

Phayu’s gaze flicked away for a moment, and he gave a small, unreadable smile.

“Discipline. Absolute discipline. In everything. That’s the only way to accomplish anything in this world. And I have a talent for reading people — what drives them, what motivates them. Business is built on control and human desire."

I couldn’t help a small smile — and then I said the stupidest thing imaginable.

“Or maybe you were just very lucky…?”

He looked back at me sharply, then smirked, walked around the desk again, and sat down, adjusting his blazer with slow precision.

“I worked very hard, Khun Rain. I built systems in my head long before I built any company. I doubt that can be reduced to luck.”

God, why did I say that?

“Right… sorry,” I muttered. “Let’s continue.”

I scanned the next question.

“Your company focuses mainly on architecture, but you also invest heavily in developing poorer regions. Recently, you rebuilt an employment support center. Is that related to the fact that you… grew up in an underprivileged household and were adopted at a young age?”

When I looked up, his gaze was on me—sharp, searching.

Was that… interest?

Rain, stop imagining things.

Phayu placed his hands on the desk and leaned slightly forward.

“These are profitable projects. Land is cheap, and they attract investors. What do you think about it?”

The question threw me off.

“Me? I… I don’t know. I’m still… learning.”

I swallowed and lowered my gaze back to the notes.

“There’s almost no information about you online. You’re never seen in public with a girlfriend, you’ve never commented on wanting a family. Are you… gay?”

My eyes widened.

What.

Did I—

Sky, I swear to GOD.

Phayu laughed.

For the first time.

His laugh… it was like velvet - smooth and dangerously warm.

“I—Khun Phayu, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“It’s fine, Khun Rain,” he interrupted gently.

“Actually, I’m… BI. Gender doesn’t matter to me. If someone interests me, that’s enough.”

Silence wrapped around us again—thick, charged.

I opened my mouth to read the next question, but his voice cut through the air.

“And you?”

Phayu stood, circled the desk once more, and sat in the chair directly across from me.

“You’re also studying architecture, right?”

Why was he asking me questions…?

“I… yes. Sky and I both study architecture. Third year, final.”

“And after you graduate, what do you want to do?”

“I… honestly?” I swallowed again. “I haven’t thought that far ahead yet. After getting my degree, I’d like to… continue in the field, explore the market—”

He interrupted my rambling again.

“And now? Are you working in anything related to architecture?”

I didn’t know why he wanted these answers, but something in his tone told me I needed to give them.

“No, not yet… I work in a different field. To afford renting the apartment. And to pay for school.”

I tightened my grip on the pen without noticing.

A flicker of recognition or understanding passed across his face.

Or maybe I imagined it.

“We offer excellent internship programs,” he said with a faint smirk.

What? WHAT?? Either I hit my head when I fell earlier or—

“Thank you but… I doubt I’d fit in here. Isn’t it obvious?” A nervous laugh slipped out. “Just look at me.”

His expression changed.

His eyes… softened? Darkened? I couldn’t tell. But they were definitely looking at me differently.

“I see you perfectly well, Rain,” he said quietly.

The tension between us thickened like the air before a storm.

He parted his lips to say something — but the secretary opened the door.

“Khun Phayu, your call with the Korean branch starts in five minutes.”

“Cancel it. We’ll run a little late.”

“Of course, Khun.” She closed the door.

My head shot up.

“No, no, it’s fine, really—you don’t have to, I already took too much of your time—”

One look from him was enough to silence me.

“I want to know more about you... Rain,” he said calmly. “Why you chose architecture? Who inspired you? What you do in your free time?”

The room tilted slightly.

Why… why did he want all that?

My chest tightened.

I felt like a character from some modern Cinderella retelling, and the only thing my overwhelmed brain managed to produce was:

“Khun Phayu… there’s nothing interesting about me, truly…”

I forced a weak smile and closed my laptop.

Well, he clearly wasn’t planning to continue the interview.

Phayu rose from his seat.

“Very well. Gather your things. I’ll walk you out.”

My hands shook slightly as I packed my belongings.

I could feel his gaze following every tiny movement — how my fingers trembled, how I swallowed, how I straightened my back.

I stood, and he led me to the door, opening it for me.

“After you.”

I stepped into the hallway. He followed and walked me to the elevator. He pressed the button.

“Did you get the answers you needed, Rain?” he asked, voice tinged with something like curiosity.
I let out a soft, nervous laugh.

“Well, considering you answered only four of the fourteen questions, and… our newspaper also wanted to ask if we could arrange a photoshoot since you barely have any online images and—”

The elevator chimed. Thank GOD.

I stepped inside.

"Khun Phayu—”

The doors closed.

The elevator carried me down, and only then did I realize I was lightheaded.

Whether from the height or from the man I had just spoken to, I couldn’t tell.

I talked to Phayu Theerapanayakul.

And somehow made a fool of myself.

He answered four questions. Out of fourteen. Sky is totally going to end me.

When the elevator reached the lobby, I practically burst out of the building and finally — finally — breathed properly.

“What… was that…?”

I hadn’t realized I said it out loud until the words left my lips.

Damn.

I forgot my umbrella in his office.

Too late now.

I sprinted through the rain to my car, slid inside, shaking.

The sky was dark; rush hour had begun.

The navigation app showed a two-hour drive home.

I just sat there for a moment.

Why did I still feel… something?

A lingering echo of him.

I had never met someone like that. No wonder people at the university practically worshipped him.

But for some reason… he seemed terribly lonely.

Enough. I buckled up and pulled onto the road.

Two hours later, I finally reached home.

I grabbed my things and trudged upstairs, bracing myself for Sky’s reaction.

The apartment was warm, music playing softly.

Sky sat at the kitchen table, typing furiously on his laptop. When he looked up and saw me, his eyes lit up like fireworks.

“Rain! I take back everything! I should’ve never doubted you. You’re amazing! I just got an email from Phayu’s secretary with a full list of questions and his answers! And he agreed to do the photoshoot!”

Sky leapt up and hugged me. I just stood there, frozen.

What…?

How…?

Huh...

That can’t be real.

Chapter Text

“Rain, are you even listening to me?”

Sky’s voice snapped me back into reality.

“Ah—yeah. Yeah, thanks, Sky…” I slipped off my shoes, set everything on the entry shelf and headed straight for the fridge. God, I was starving. As the adrenaline finally faded, my mind slowly began to process the chaos of the day. I grabbed a few ingredients and silently started preparing dinner. Sky slid onto the kitchen stool, watching me closely.

“Rain, why are you so quiet…? Come on, spill it. How did it go? What is he like? Is he as dominant as they say? What about the interview?”

Honestly, I had no idea where to start. What was I supposed to say? That this… Phayu truly was as stunning as the rumors claimed, and that I, like any sane human being, fell under his influence? But the problem wasn’t fear. I just… couldn’t function normally around him.

“Raaaain…? Are you playing silent mode now?”

“Oh—sorry. I’m still in shock that he actually answered every question. He’s… beautiful, truly powerful, and in a strange way, surprisingly pleasant to talk to. I—I’m glad I got to meet him. I guess I can now say I’m part of that tiny group of people who’ve actually seen him.” I let out a shaky laugh and continued assembling my sandwich.

Sky popped a lettuce leaf into his mouth. “Well… I’ll tell you right away. This won’t be the last time you see him.”

I froze.

“What? What do you mean? Why would I see him again?”

Sky spoke with a full mouth.

“Well, he agreed to the photoshoot—on the condition that you attend. I’ll be there too, of course, but maybe it’s easier for him to see a familiar face? Or maybe you caught his attention.”

I finally released the heavy tension inside me—and laughed.

“Sky, are you insane? What could possibly catch his attention? Maybe my lack of professionalism and terrible manners?”

He snatched the sandwich from my hands, took a bite, then looked at me pointedly.

“You underestimate yourself too much. Maybe it was refreshing for him to talk to someone who doesn’t worship him like a deity.”

I had no response to that. I’d never thought about it that way.

Sky stood up and headed toward his laptop. “Think about it,” he said before leaving the kitchen.

I sighed—and of course, started thinking about it. I ate, tried to distract myself, but my thoughts wouldn’t stop circling. His dark-brown eyes. His hands. That tiny beauty mark by his lips—
No. Stop. Enough.

I turned off the series playing in my room and headed for the shower.

The hot water calmed me down, melting the storm in my head.

Even if I did like him, and I wasn’t ready to admit that—what were the chances he’d ever talk to me again?

No one had ever been interested in me. And I’d never been particularly interested in anyone.

And now my first genuine interest was… a billionaire named Phayu Theerapanayakul?

Ridiculous.

I stepped out of the shower, looked at my reflection in the mirror.

My cheeks were still pink — probably from the heat.

My wet brown hair clung to my forehead as I started drying it.

Sky’s words about underestimating myself echoed in my head.

When I finally changed into my pajamas and returned to my room, I climbed into bed and opened my laptop to check my assignment.

But somewhere along the way… I found myself googling information about Phayu instead.

There was almost nothing. Practically zero. Not even interesting.

I shut the laptop, curled under the blanket, closed my eyes  and still saw his gaze.

Give it a couple of days. You’ll forget all of this.

With that thought, I slipped into sleep.

The next morning was absolute chaos.

I overslept.

If it weren’t for Sky shaking me awake, I wouldn’t have made it to the first lecture.

I hadn’t even set an alarm. Not surprising, considering yesterday.

Even now I wasn’t really listening to the professor. I kept twirling that pen between my fingers—the one with the “Storm” emblem.

A message from Sky lit up my phone:

Sky: “Just got confirmation from Phayu’s office. Photoshoot tomorrow at 6 PM. I asked Ple to prepare everything.”

“Okay, got it.”

I put the phone away. Even when Sky’s sick, he refuses to rest. I wish I had that kind of drive.

Lectures passed quickly, and afterward I headed to my car to go to work.

I work at a small comic book shop.

Quiet, peaceful, perfect for someone whose brain is still short-circuiting after meeting a billionaire.

Twenty minutes later, I arrived.

As soon as I stepped inside, my coworker Nalin lit up in a wide smile.

“Finally! My favorite nong Rain is here to free me from this prison and let me go hoooome!”

She threw her arms around me.

“Don’t get too excited, P’Nalin. You know I’m going on exam leave soon. You’ll survive on your own.”

She rolled her eyes dramatically.

“Oh please. Anyways, how were your days off? Get some rest?”

I leaned back against a shelf.

“Well… if interviewing Phayu Theerapanayakul counts as rest, then yes.”

Silence.

Absolute.

Complete.

The look Nalin gave me could have shattered glass.

“WHAT—?! What?? How—how did that even happen?!”

“Remember how I told you Sky finally got permission to interview him for our graduation paper?”

Nalin nodded rapidly.

“Well, he got sick. So I had to go instead. And… that’s how it happened.”

“Holy — Rain! That’s incredible. So? How did it go?”

I shrugged.

“It was… interesting. He’s… an interesting man.”

Her shift ended just as customers walked in. She grabbed her bag.

“I’m really happy everything went well. That’s amazing experience, Rain!”

She hugged me one last time and glanced at the customers.

“See you tomorrow, hero.”

Then she ran out of the shop. I watched her leave and couldn’t help but laugh softly. Happy girl.

My shift dragged surprisingly slowly.

I helped a few customers, unpacked some new stock.

Outside, the weather was the same — rainfall, traffic, nonstop noise.

I sat behind the counter, opened my laptop, and started working on an assignment —

When bright headlights flashed across the store.

I looked up.

A black Range Rover had parked directly in front of the shop.

An expensive one. A very expensive one.

The headlights turned off. A tall man in a perfectly tailored black suit stepped out.

He opened the back door—and out stepped…

My heart skipped a beat. No. I was imagining it. But no.

It was him.

Phayu.

I snapped my eyes back to my laptop.

My hands were shaking.

Why was I reacting like this?!

Breathe. Calm down.

The door opened.

Footsteps.

Heavy, confident. Recognizable.

I looked up.

He was standing in the doorway. Wearing an immaculate dark grey suit. Hair perfect. Gaze heavy.

I shot to my feet, but, as always, he spoke first.

“Rain. You’re exactly the person I was looking for.” A faint smile touched his lips.

He… was looking for me? Okay, someone definitely drugged my coffee.

“A-ah, Khun Phayu. What a surprise.” I forced myself to step toward him.

“How… how can I help you?”

He looked at me directly.

“You left your umbrella in my office yesterday. I came to return it.” He held it out.

“Oh, right… yeah. Thank you so much.” I reached for it— and my fingers brushed his.

A shiver shot up my arm. His hand was cold.

I swallowed and met his eyes.

“Thank you again… and thank you for answering Sky’s questions. And agreeing to the photoshoot. He’s really happy.”

I had no idea how I managed to say any of that.

Phayu nodded slightly, still studying me.

“And you… Rain. Were you satisfied with the answers?”

I tried to smile through the trembling.

Why me?

“Y-yes, of course. Thank you, Khun Phayu.”

He walked slowly through the shop before turning back to me.

“How long have you been working here?”

“About a year. Since I moved out of my parents’ place.”

He didn’t respond. Just took another step closer.

“The photoshoot is scheduled for tomorrow. You’ll be there, won’t you?”

Like you didn’t make that a condition.

“Yes, Khun Phayu. I’ll be there.”

“Have dinner with me after the shoot.”

…What.

“D-dinner with you…? I… I don’t—”

“That wasn’t a question,” he said with a small, amused smirk.

I could only stare at him, stunned.

Why was he ordering me around like that?

Was he serious?

“…Okay.”

That was all I managed.

He looked pleased and headed toward the exit.

“Oh, and Rain—”

I looked up.

“Call me Phi. ‘Khun’ is unnecessary.”

I think that was the moment my brain officially shut down.

“H-how… okay, Kh...P’Phayu…”

He nodded approvingly.

“Have a good evening, Rain.”

And with that, he left the store.

The man who had been silently guarding the door opened the car for him, then climbed in himself.

The car drove off.

I finally exhaled.

My legs were shaking.

Probably from nerves.

Phayu returned my umbrella. And invited me to dinner.

This cannot be real.

But… if it is real…then I’m terrified.

Chapter Text

I honestly have no idea how I managed to finish my shift or drive home afterward.

My mind was pure fog — and not metaphorically.

I simply couldn’t process the fact that Phayu had come to my workplace himself, returned my cheap umbrella that barely cost a few baht, and then invited me to dinner.

Maybe I really did hit my head that day and hallucinated everything?

Although… wait. How did he even know where I worked?

Then again, considering the scale of who Phayu is… I think I can answer that question myself.

Right now i need to sneek inside carefully.

Please, let Sky be asleep. Because if he’s awake… I’m not sure I'll be able to keep my mouth shut.

No — i can do that. I have to.

I exhaled deeply, stepped out of the car—

My phone vibrated in my pocket.

I headed toward the apartment building, pulled out the phone… and froze in place.

A message. From an unknown number.

Unknown: “This is Phayu. You should save my number. Good night.”

How —  How did he get my number?

“Shit!” I yelled, not even realizing it.

A couple of passersby turned to look at me. I flashed an awkward smile.

No. No, there’s no way he’s actually interested in me…

Maybe he needs something from me.

Though what on earth could that be?

I opened the message. And… saved his number.

Why was I doing this?

I shoved the phone back into my pocket, entered the building, climbed the stairs, and quietly opened the apartment door.

The lights were on.

Great.

Sky wasn’t asleep.

I needed to keep my mouth shut. If I told him what happened;  and who texted me — he’d think I was pranking him.

“Rain…?” Sky’s voice knocked me back into reality.

“What?” I turned sharply toward him.

“Rain, I greeted you twice already, and you’re just standing there like a statue… Are you okay? Don’t tell me I infected you,  you look a bit pale and—”

“Khun Phayu came to my workplace today to return the umbrella I left in his office yesterday. And he invited me to dinner tomorrow after the photoshoot.”

I blurted it out faster than my brain could catch up and stop me.

Sky’s notebook slipped out of his hands and hit the floor.

“Rain, if you’re joking—”

I pulled out my phone and silently showed him the message from Phayu.

“Holy shit, Rain, no way— I… Oh my god, Rain, he likes you!”

A nervous laugh escaped my lips. I walked to the living room and fell onto the couch.

“Sky, please don’t say things like that. You know what I’m like, don’t give me false hope! I can’t let myself think about this. It’s… it’s Phayu Theerapanayakul. There has to be some kind of hidden motive, or… or I don’t know. But this is not logical at all…”

Sky moved to sit beside me.

“You’re going to listen to me now. And you’re not going to interrupt, understood?”

I blinked at him. When Sky speaks in that tone — silence is safer.

“Rain, you know I love you. But sometimes you act like a complete, excuse me — idiot. Why can’t you just accept the possibility that you actually caught his interest? Why would you be less deserving than anyone else? Stop doubting yourself. Sometimes things happen that blow your mind, things that shock you — but if you keep pushing them away because you’re scared, you’re going to miss something that could turn your whole life upside down.”

I inhaled shakily. For the first time… I felt something tighten inside my chest.

A feeling I tried so hard to suppress with irritation.

Fear.

Fear that my life really could change.

Sky continued:

“So please, pull yourself together and stop being afraid of everything. No one is forcing you into anything. You understand that, right?”

If only you heard the tone he uses with me… you wouldn’t be saying that.

But I simply nodded.

Sky hugged me briefly, then pulled back and laughed.

“God, if my best friend becomes the main character of some romance novel  story…”

I let out a soft laugh and sighed.

“And all this is thanks to you…”

Sky jumped to his feet.

“Exactly! And if I hadn’t gotten sick, you never would’ve met him. What is that, if not fate?”

Fate. Sure. Why not add that to the madness.

After talking with Sky, I felt a little lighter.

Maybe he’s right.

Maybe I should just accept what’s happening.

What if, just maybe — Phayu actually likes me?

I stared out the window of my room. The night noises drifted in through the slightly open window.

The smell of rain calmed me.

Finally, my racing thoughts eased, and my heart stopped pounding so violently.

The next morning went surprisingly well. I woke up early, took a shower, styled my hair lightly. Put on black fitted pants, buttoned up a white shirt, and looked in the mirror.

I saw someone confused, but… strangely confident.

If he really likes me… I won’t waste this chance.

My heart skipped a beat.

The day dragged on like a month.

Lectures felt endless — that’s what happens when you’re waiting for something that makes your heart stop.

When the clock hit 17:00, the anxiety crept in.

Not just mine — Sky’s and Pen’s as well.

We arrived at a small studio in downtown Bangkok.

We rented it for a couple of hours — at least to pretend we were professional.

Pen fixed the lights and camera. Sky paced around nervously. And I… I just waited. Waited for the unavoidable meeting with Phayu.

“Rain, stop standing there like a statue and help me move this table to the wall. It ruins the layout,” Sky snapped anxiously.

“Alright, just don’t explode from stress…”

Pen chuckled quietly.

We moved the table, arranged everything perfectly. Everything was ready for Phayu’s arrival.

“I’m so nervous. I still can’t believe he actually agreed to a photoshoot. He avoids cameras like the plague,” Pen chattered. “I wonder what you bribed him with?”

“With a cute face,” Sky joked and laughed.

“Sky!” I hissed. “That’s not true. He just… decided to support his former faculty —”

Pen was about to reply when the sound of the opening door cut through the studio.

Two tall, intimidating men in black suits walked in first. They positioned themselves on both sides of the doorway.

And then he walked in.

Phayu.

As always — flawless.

Sharp suit. Perfect hair. Predatory eyes.

Sky and Pen both lost the ability to speak.

But this was Sky — so underestimating him was a mistake.

“Good evening, Khun Phayu. Thank you for coming and taking the time to take a few photos for our paper.” Said Sky.

But Phayu wasn’t looking at Sky.

He was looking at me.

We were staring at each other — and I was the first to look away, before the redness in my cheeks became too obvious.

Phayu approached Sky and inclined his head politely.

“Good evening, Sky. A few shots won’t trouble me.”

He shifted his gaze to Pen, who looked like she might evaporate on the spot.

“And you are…?”

“A-ah, yes, sorry Khun. My name is Pen, I’ll be taking the photos for the paper,” she stammered.

He nodded and walked toward the plain backdrop.

Sky stood beside me as we watched Pen take pictures.

Phayu’s expression was stern. He looked at the camera as if it had offended him.

But that wasn’t what held my attention.

He kept glancing at me. Between shots. Every few seconds.

Sky leaned toward me and whispered:

“Rain, he’s staring at you the whole time.”

I elbowed him in the shoulder.

“Khun Phayu…” Pen’s voice trembled through the air. “Would you… maybe try to… smile a little?”

He looked at her.

“I don’t see the necessity. Have you taken enough shots?”

“Y-yes, of course. Thank you, Khun…”

He nodded, adjusted his tie, and walked toward us.

“Rain, are you ready to go?”

Shit.

Here it was — that moment.

My heart skipped hard.

His gaze… he wasn’t asking. He already knew the answer.

“Yes… Khu— P’Phayu, I’m ready,” I said with a shaky, nervous smile.

Sky and Pen both whipped their heads toward me.

I grabbed my bag.

“Thank you for tonight. I look forward to reading your edition,” Phayu said politely to Sky and Pen, then turned his eyes back to me.

“After you.”

I nodded silently, exchanged a quick look with Sky, and stepped out of the studio.

The night air hit my face.

I inhaled deeply.

There was no turning back.

The realization hit me like a hammer — but somewhere deep inside… It made me feel strangely, dangerously alive.

Chapter Text

We drove to the restaurant in silence.

Not awkward, not cold, but the kind of silence that feels too full.

A silence stretched tight like a string, humming with something unnamed.

I kept my eyes on the window, watching the blurred city lights smear across the glass.

But every few seconds, I felt it—that heavy, searching gaze.

I caught it in the reflection each time: P’Phayu looking at me as if studying the outline of a thought he couldn’t shake.

And deep down, no matter how ridiculous it sounded…I hoped this evening would end well.

The car stopped. I unbuckled my seat belt, reached for the door—but Phayu was already outside.

A moment later, he opened my door for me.

I blinked at him, startled.

“Thank you, P’Phayu… but I could’ve opened it myself.”

He gave me a small smile — deliberate, and somehow intimate.

“I don’t doubt your independence,” he said quietly. “But I like to have control over the things around me.”

Control? Opening a door was control?

I let out a breathless, confused chuckle.

“Right… okay.”

“Come.”

He nodded toward the entrance, and I followed, nerves buzzing in my stomach.

The restaurant was beautiful in a way that made sound feel unnecessary—soft lights, warm wood, muted tones, the faint murmur of Japanese instrumental music.

Minimalistic. Elegant. Calm.

A woman at the host stand straightened immediately when she saw him.

“Khun Phayu, good evening. Your table is prepared. Please follow me.”

We followed her through the restaurant to a secluded corner by the window, the most intimate spot in the entire place.

She set down our menus with a polite bow and disappeared.

I exhaled slowly, letting my eyes roam the serene interior.

It felt… safe.

Like the whole room was wrapped in cotton.

“Do you like it here?” Phayu’s voice broke through my thoughts, low and unhurried.

I looked up, startled.

His eyes were fixed on me — curious, focused. No one had ever looked at me like that.

“Ah, yeah. I mean, who wouldn’t like this?” I answered with a small, awkward laugh.

He nodded, satisfied.

“I ordered a few dishes ahead of time. You’re not allergic to anything, right?”

I shook my head. “I don’t think so. And if I am, I guess we’ll find out together.”

A faint smile tugged at his lips. He picked up the water bottle, opened it with practiced ease, and poured water into both glasses.

“Drink,” he said — gently, but unmistakably in a tone of habit, of someone used to giving direction.

I wasn’t particularly thirsty, but I lifted the glass and took a sip anyway.

Something in the way he watched me made it feel… easier to obey.

I set the glass down, summoning courage from somewhere I didn’t know I had.

“P’Phayu… can I ask you something?”

He tilted his head slightly, giving me his full attention.

“Of course.”

“Why… did you invite me to dinner? What...exactly about me is interesting to you?”

He didn’t flinch. Didn’t look away.

Just interlaced his fingers on the table, leaning subtly forward.

“I didn’t get answers to my questions,” he said calmly. “Why you chose architecture. What inspires you. What you do in your free time. I don’t like leaving questions unanswered.”

My breath caught.

He still remembered…every single thing he asked me during the interview.

Before I could respond, three waiters approached our table and placed dish after dish before us.

Beautifully arranged. Perfectly balanced.

I stared, stunned.

These were all my favorite Japanese dishes.

Coincidence? Instinct? Or had he somehow known?

Phayu thanked the staff with a polite nod.

They bowed and left us alone.

Then he lifted a plate, picked out a little of everything, arranged it neatly, and set the dish in front of me.

“Eat,” he murmured, voice dropping an octave. “And then answer me.”

I swallowed hard, picked up my chopsticks, and took a bite.

“Mmm—god, this is incredible!”

The words slipped out before I could stop them. My hands flew to my mouth, mortified.

A quiet laugh escaped him—soft, warm, real.

“I’m glad you like it,” he said, looking at me with something… different.

Something dangerously gentle.

Then he caught himself, straightened his posture, as if reminding his own face not to soften too much.

I tried to regain composure, taking a sip of water to calm my racing heart.

“So,” he continued, “What inspired you to pursue architecture? Career prospects? The market?”

I shook my head. “No… honestly, that was the last thing on my mind when I applied.”

His expression shifted—curiosity sharpening.

“Oh? Then what guided you?”

I looked down at the reflection in my glass.

“If I’m being completely honest… I think I knew since childhood. I spent a lot of time alone at home. My parents, before my dad left, were always working. Home didn’t feel like home. It felt like… a shelter. A space that kept me safe when nothing else did.”

Phayu went utterly still.

“So I realized spaces could embrace you,” I continued softly. “And I wanted to create those places for other people. Places that feel… warm. Alive.”

Something flickered in his eyes—understanding, maybe.

Or sadness.

“Rain,” he said, voice lower, gentler than before. “You talk about architecture as if it’s a living being.”

I smiled faintly. “Maybe it is.” I hesitated before adding:

“I like simplicity. Natural textures. Imperfection. Like the Japanese concept of wabi-sabi. When things don’t scream about their beauty…When they just exist. Quiet. Honest.”

He frowned.

Not in irritation, but as if the words hit somewhere deep.

“Imperfection…” he echoed. “You find it beautiful?”

“Yes,” I whispered. “Because the real stuff is always a bit uneven. And that makes it… warmer.”

Silence settled between us, heavy and introspective.

It felt like he wasn’t just hearing my words.

He was absorbing them.

Finally he exhaled and looked at me with an expression I couldn’t decipher.

“You see the world too poetically, Rain.”

My brow furrowed. “…Is that a bad thing?”

His jaw tightened, not out of anger.

Out of…fear?

“It makes you vulnerable.”

“What? Why? It’s just… who I am—”

Something in him snapped — not violently, but painfully.

His eyes darkened, and he looked away.

“We should go,” he said quietly.

Go? Just like that? What did I say wrong?

He stood abruptly and walked toward the exit. Panic rose in my chest.

I followed him out into the cool night air.

“P'Phayu!” I caught up to him, breath uneven. “What’s wrong? Did I—”

“Rain, look out!”

His voice tore across the street—and before I understood what was happening, his arms were around my waist, pulling me sharply against him.

A bicycle sped past us, the bell shrieking in my ears.

My heart pounded as I clutched at his shirt, forehead crashing into his chest.

His scent wrapped around me—warm, grounding, intoxicating.

He held me tight. Too tight. Like he’d been terrified of something happening to me.

His breathing matched mine—quick, uneven.

Slowly, reluctantly, his grip loosened.

I lifted my head. We were so close. Barely inches apart.

His eyes flicked to my lips. My breath hitched. My mouth parted just slightly without my permission.

He leaned in softly, almost imperceptibly —then stopped.

Not because he didn’t want to. Because he wanted…too much.

He gently moved me back, hands lingering for half a second longer than they should.

“Keep your distance from me,” he murmured.

But there was no cruelty.

Only pain. Only restraint.

“My driver will take you home. It’s late.”

I noticed the familiar black car parked by the curb. One of his men stepped out, silently opening the back door.

Phayu’s gaze stayed locked on mine.

“Get in,” he said softly, but firmly.

A lump formed in my throat.

I wanted to yell, to demand an explanation. To ask why he looked at me like that only to pull away.

But my voice failed.

“…Thank you for the dinner, Khun Phayu.” It came out barely above a whisper.

I got into the car without another word.

Stared out the opposite window so I wouldn’t have to see him walk away.

The driver entered without asking for directions.

He didn’t need them.

Tears slipped down my cheeks before I could stop them.

I wiped them quickly, ashamed.

How could someone give hope so easily—and crush it in the same breath?

Maybe he didn’t know how to… talk to people anymore.

Maybe he didn’t understand softness.

Maybe he only knew control.

By the time the car pulled up to my building, I felt hollow.

“I’ll get it,” I muttered quickly when the driver reached for my door. I slammed it shut behind me and walked toward the entrance, willing the numbness to hold me together.If Sky asked anything— I would break.

I opened the apartment door. Of course Sky was up immediately.

“Rain! So?? How was it? Why are you back so early? What happened? Tell me everything!!”

I turned toward him.

And tears were already spilling.

Sky’s expression dropped instantly.

“Rain…” He rushed to me. “What happened? Did he do something? I swear to god I’ll—”

I shook my head quickly, choking back a sob. Sky pulled me into a hug, arms tight, grounding. I clung to him, burying my face in his shoulder.

“Sky…” My voice trembled. “He told me to keep my distance.”

Sky didn’t speak. He just held me tighter.

“It’s okay,” he whispered. “Just breathe… I’m here. It’s okay.”

But it wasn’t.

And the only question echoing in my mind haunting, painful, unanswered —

Why?

Chapter Text

Two weeks had passed since that “wonderful” dinner.

Probably the hardest two weeks of my life.

They completely drained me — emotionally and mentally.

I hadn’t seen Phayu even once since that day.

The first few days my head was full of him.

I couldnt stop thinking about what went wrong, what I said or did that pushed him away, at what exact moment everything went sideways.

It just… hurt.

But something else appeared that helped dull the pain of his strange, incomprehensible behavior — exams.

Exams.

Project submissions.

Papers.

Presentations.

I threw myself into all of it headfirst.

Sky and I came home only to shower, collapse into bed for a couple of hours, and then drag ourselves back to campus.

We were studying, taking exams, trying to survive — and i just… stopped talking about Phayu.

Thank god.

Maybe this will be a lesson for me: not to invent something that isn’t real. To stop building fantasies out of kind gestures and half-spoken words.

The day of our last exam finally came.

We walked out of the faculty building not like happy students, but like zombies.

Back at the apartment, we just drifted into our rooms.

My plan was simple: play some video games, clean myself up a bit, and sleep for 24 hours straight.

Tomorrow was my last free day before I had to go back to work.

Life goes on. Things move forward.

And I no longer think about Phayu.

…Or at least that’s what I kept trying to tell myself.

The clock showed 8PM. We’d gotten home around 3PM, and I honestly had no idea how the time had flown by so fast.

All I’d done was scroll through Instagram and watch TikToks.

Yes, I had the right to give my brain a few hours of absolutely nothing.

But it was probably time to actually do something.

I put my phone aside and got up to go take a shower, when my door suddenly burst open.

“Rain! Are you seriously going to go in that?”

I blinked at Sky, confused. “Go where?”

Sky frowned. “Rain, we finished our last exam. Break is starting. We agreed to meet everyone at a bar to finally breathe. Did you forget?”

I closed my eyes for a moment and sighed tiredly.

“Honestly, yeah, I did forget. But I don’t really want to go anywhere. I just want to sleep and play video games…”

Sky cut me off immediately.

“No ‘no’, Rain. Enough sitting in your room and wrapping yourself in misery. You have five minutes to get ready. I’ll be waiting downstairs. If you don’t come out, I’ll drag you there myself. Got it?”

I wanted to protest, but I didn’t have the energy. And I understood it would be completely useless anyway.

I let out a long breath.

“Okay, okay. Five minutes.”

Sky grinned triumphantly and left my room.

I changed my shirt, left the same jeans on, and a couple of minutes later we left the apartment.

We drove to the bar in my car.

I already knew I wasn’t going to drink.

I wasn’t in the mood and had zero desire for alcohol, especially since every time I drank, I ended up doing something stupid — and that was the last thing I wanted from this evening.

Sky connected his phone to bluetooth, turned up the music, and started singing along, while I just drove and watched the road.

I’ll admit — the music was good.

We got to the bar in a few minutes. I parked, Sky jumped out, and I followed him.

“Let’s not stay long, okay? We celebrate a bit and then go home,” I said.

Sky rolled his eyes. “Sure, mom.”

I couldn’t help but smile, and we walked inside the bar — which honestly looked more like a club.

Music hit us immediately.

Bright lights, students everywhere, all celebrating the end of finals.

The noise was chaotic, loud, overwhelming.

“Oooh! Nong Rain and Sky! Finally, as always — the last ones to arrive!” Sig jumped up from a table where almost all of our classmates were already gathered.

“Sorry, had to convince Rain not to rot at home,” Sky said.

I bumped him with my shoulder. “Not true. I just needed some time to get ready.”

“Blah, blah, blah, I don’t care why you’re late. The fact is—you are late. And that’s why…”

Sig turned toward a neighboring table.

“I’ll borrow these for a moment…” He grabbed two shot glasses. People at that table yelped, but Sig shushed them and turned back to us.

“Penalty shots. Drink.”

Sky took one from his hand. I looked at Sig with a frown.

“I’m driving. I’m the designated driver. I’m not drinking tonight.”

I crossed my arms and looked away. Sig rolled his eyes.

“One shot will be out of your system in a couple of hours. Drink.”

He shoved the glass toward me. I glanced at Sky, who was giving me that look: come on, have some fun, just a little.

Screw it.

I snatched the shot from Sig’s hand, and Sky and I knocked them back at the same time. I grimaced, and Sig immediately pushed a lime slice toward me as a chaser.

Everyone cheered.

“And now you can join us!”

We laughed and sat down.

The evening stretched on.

We talked about everything and nothing.

We laughed, played truth or dare, and honestly, I didn’t even notice how much I drank.

People just kept pouring, pouring, and pouring.

A couple of hours later, everyone looked thoroughly drunk.

Some were still at the table, arguing about something incomprehensible.

Some had moved to the dance floor long ago.

Someone was singing.

Sky sat next to me, passionately arguing with Pen about something.

And I… just zoned out for a moment. Until my bladder reminded me of its existence. I stood up a bit too quickly.

Mistake. Shit, I really had drunk a lot. Okay, not a big deal. I wasn’t getting behind the wheel anyway. I leaned down to Sky.

“I’ll be right back…”

He glanced at me and nodded, going right back to whatever he was discussing with Pen.

I wove through the crowd and… joined the line for the bathroom.

It felt like the whole bar suddenly needed to pee. I stood there and yeah, of course my thoughts circled right back to Phayu.

God, why was I thinking about him again after everything he did?

He treated me like a jerk. A complete jerk. And I swallowed it.

Why did I swallow it? Why didn’t I say anything? Why did I just accept “stay away from me”?

You know what? No. I wasn’t going to swallow it. Not tonight.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket, opened my contacts, and saw his name.

I smirked, dialed his number, and leaned back against the wall.

He picked up on the second ring.

That was fast.

“Rain?”

Hearing his voice sent something sharp through my chest.

“Khun Phayu!” I said way too loudly. “How are you?” My tongue was definitely not cooperating.

“Rain… are you alright? You sound strange.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Oh, come on. What could be wrong with me? You told me to keep my distance, and now suddenly you’re interested in whether I’m okay? I feel wonderful!’”

“Rain. Have you been drinking?”

“Yes!” I snapped. “Imagine that, I’m a big boy and can allow myself a few drinks. And you are the one acting like a child, got it? ‘Rain, Rain, let’s have dinner, you interest me… oh no, Rain, Rain, get out, stay away from me!’”

I hiccuped.

“Oh…”

“Rain, where are you?”

“That shouldn’t concern you, got it? Have a nice evening, Khun Phayu.”

I hung up and grinned to myself, proud and drunk on my own audacity.

I noticed a couple of people in the line staring at me.

“Did you hear me? I got him, right?”

I laughed. What a genius. No one answered. They just looked away.

I sighed and felt my phone buzz again.

Phayu flashed on the screen.

I sobered up a little.

Okay.

A lot.

Shit. What did I just do?

I exhaled and answered.

“P’Phayu, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“Stay where you are and don’t go anywhere,” he cut me off. His voice was low, firm. “Do you understand me? I’ll be there soon.”

WHAT? No, no, no, why—?

“Y-you don’t have to, P’Phayu—”

But he’d already ended the call.

Great. Just great.

The line finally moved.

I went in, did what I needed to, then stared at myself in the mirror over the sinks.

My cheeks were a bit flushed. I washed my hands, splashed my face with cold water.

It didn’t help much.

I took a deep breath.

Honestly… I didn’t look bad.

I smiled at my reflection and stepped out of the bathroom.

I walked back toward our table — but Sky wasn’t there anymore.

Where did he go?

I looked around, confused, scanning the room. Before I could figure it out, I felt a hand on my shoulder.

I turned.

A guy stood in front of me — definitely not from our faculty.

I’d never seen him before. He looked a little intimidating.

He smiled at me.

“Hey. My name’s Stop. I’ve been watching you for half the night… Wanna dance?”

My drunk brain struggled to process everything, but there was one thing I knew clearly: I did not want to dance with him.

“Um… no, I don’t really feel like it…”

He only moved closer.

“Come on, just for a bit.”

“N-no, I said no—”

He reached for my hand, and in the next moment he practically flew away from me.

“He said no.”

The sharp, cutting voice sliced through the music.

I snapped my head in that direction.

Phayu.

He was standing there, breathing heavily, eyes burning with fury.

I saw one of his men moving toward Stop, while at the same time Phayu pulled me close and made me look at him.

“Rain, are you okay? Did he hurt you? How much have you drink?”

He fired off questions quickly, precise and focused.

And I… only felt his hands on my body.

They were steady. Warm. Strong.

I stared at him.

“You’re… so handsome…” I murmured, unable to stop myself.

I lifted a hand and touched his face, smirking.

He froze. Completely. Then his grip on me softened — just a little.

“I’m taking you home,” he said quietly.

Home?  No.

“Nooo… P’Phayu, I’m not going. I can’t leave Sky. I can’t even find him…”

I started scanning the bar again and finally saw him near the counter.

Sky was at the bar with… some guy.

In a dark burgundy suit, with a crooked little smile.

Handsome — but not more than Phayu.

And he was very clearly flirting with Sky.

What…?

“Sky will be fine, don’t worry, Rain,” Phayu said. “My brother Prapai will make sure nothing happens to him.”

I stared at him.

“You have a brother…? Wow… I want to meet him!”

His hands tightened around my waist.

“We’re going home. Now.”

I looked up at him and felt my lips pout on their own. I had no idea whether I actually did it or just imagined it, but the sensation was real.

“You’re very… strict…”

He muttered something under his breath and, sliding his arm more securely around my waist, steered me toward the exit.

Cold night air hit my face. It was loud outside — cars, voices, distant music. So many lamps, so much light… and everything seemed to spin.

“Rain…?” I heard his voice as if from far away.

“Oh crap…” I chuckled weakly. “Everything’s… spinning…”

The last thing I felt were strong arms catching me before I hit the ground

- and then darkness.

The first thing I felt was pain.

A dull, throbbing headache.

I squinted, the light felt harsh, sharp.

I winced, but eventually forced myself to open my eyes.

What… happened?

I looked at the ceiling. Then at the window. This was not my room.

I was in… a hotel room?

Shit.

I carefully pushed myself up to sit and only then realized—

I wasn’t wearing pants. Just a white tank top. I lifted my head and yelped:

“Oh my god— I’m sorry—”

Phayu was sitting at a table across from the bed. He closed his laptop, leaned back in the chair, tilted his head slightly and smiled.

“Good morning, sleepyhead. How’s your head?”

I swallowed.

My throat was so dry I choked on air.

I clutched the blanket tighter around myself.

Hearing that, he stood, walked over to the small table, poured a glass of water, then sat down on the edge of the bed and handed it to me.

“Drink.”

I nodded quickly, grabbed the glass, and gulped down the water greedily.

When the glass was empty, I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, set it on the nightstand, and looked at him, still clutching the blanket.

“What… what happened last night? And… why are we in a hotel?”

I blinked rapidly.

My brain felt like it was lagging a full five seconds behind reality.

He chuckled softly and sighed.

“You really shouldn’t drink,” he said. “You know that? And besides—you were the one who called me.” He paused. “You think I would have just left you like that?”

I… I did what?

Bits and pieces started to float back in. My cheeks heated.

“D-did we… did something happen between us?” I blurted out.

He looked at me for a moment and exhaled.

“I’m not into necrophilia,” he said dryly. “And besides…”

He leaned a little closer.

His gaze dropped to my lips, then lifted back to my eyes.

“I’m not touching you until you sign an agreement.”

“What…” The word slipped out of me. “What agreement are you talking about?”

He straightened slightly, still studying me.

“I’m not a man of… ordinary relationships,” he said quietly. “I don’t know how to be simple. What I need…” — he exhaled — “is structure. Control. A mutual arrangement. An agreement, where the boundaries are clearly defined.” He paused. “So… if you want to know me and understand who I am, you’ll need to sign that agreement. After that, we can get… closer.”

My hungover brain was buzzing so loudly that his words felt surreal, like fragments of a dream.

Agreement. Boundaries. Control.

What was he talking about?

“So this… ‘agreement’, as you call it…” I tried to put my thoughts together. “Without it, you’re not going to… touch me?”

“Never,” he said. “And I never touch someone who doesn’t understand what I am. I don’t inflict pain. I don’t demand the impossible. But I’m not soft. Not romantic. And not safe.”

Pain? What kind of pain is he talking about…?

He clearly saw the confusion boiling in my eyes.

“We’ll talk about it when you’re ready,” he said quietly. “Now… isn’t the best time.”

He stood and walked over to a side table. Only then I noticed the breakfast tray laid out there — toast, fruit, juice.

“Eat something and take a pill. Then I’ll drive you home.”

He sat back down in the chair.

I understood arguing was pointless. I was ready to get up and at least wash my face, when it hit me again—

I wasn’t wearing pants. I looked at him hesitantly.

“Um… where are my clothes?”

He glanced over at me.

“They were filthy. I had new ones brought up for you. They’re in the bathroom.”

Where he even got them… honestly, at this point I wasn’t surprised anymore.

I got up slowly; my head still spun a little.

I went into the bathroom and closed the door behind me.

On one of the hooks, there was a shirt and a pair of trousers hanging.

I touched them — the fabric felt expensive. Too expensive for me.

I looked at myself in the mirror. My hair was a mess, and I looked… rough, to put it gently.

I took off the tank top, turned on the water, and stepped under the hot stream.

The shower helped a little, washing away at least some of the fog.

I dried my hair lightly, put on the clothes he’d had sent up for me, and looked in the mirror once more.

What agreement? Why does it sound so confusing and scary at the same time?

His gaze flashed in my mind.

Heavy. Dark. Piercing.

If… that agreement would allow me to stay in his life, to stay close to him… Then maybe—maybe I’d sign it.

With that terrifying thought, I left the bathroom.

He was typing something on his laptop, but the moment he heard me, he looked up.

His gaze slid over me from head to toe — and for a split second, his lips curved in a satisfied hint of a smile.

I walked further in and glanced at the beautifully set table.

I wasn’t very hungry… but I took a piece of toast, spread it, took a bite, and sat there chewing, watching him work.

When I finished, I drank a glass of juice, licked my lips, and finally gathered the courage.

“P’Phayu…”

His head turned to me immediately.

“You said you won’t touch me without an agreement,” I began. “That you need boundaries, control… but you still came for me at the club. You changed my clothes, brought me here… and you look at me like you’re fighting yourself. Isn’t that… contradictory?”

He stood up and came to sit at the table across from me.

Just looked at me — calmly, intently, seriously.

“What are you trying to say, Rain?”

What was I trying to say? I just wanted him to understand that—

“Don’t push me away,” I said quietly. “Let me… understand what you want. What this agreement is. I can choose for myself, can’t I? Tell me…”

He stared at me.

“Did you eat?” he asked instead.

Of course he wasn’t going to answer that.

I just nodded.

He stood, took a blister pack from the table, popped out a pill, and handed it to me.

“Take this. It’s time to go.”

“P’Phayu…”

“Take it.”

I swallowed the pill.

He picked up his things. I grabbed my phone from the nightstand and walked toward the door.

He opened it for me. I stepped out first.

The hotel looked incredibly luxurious.

Everything was polished, marble, quiet corridors, soft lighting.

It felt like a completely different world from last night’s chaos.

He walked a little ahead of me.

We reached the elevators in complete silence.

The air between us felt… thick.

The elevator arrived on our floor. We stepped inside.

He pressed the button for the lobby. The doors closed with a soft chime.

We stood close. Too close.

My heart pounded madly. I licked my lips nervously and tried to calm my breathing.

I could feel his gaze on me — heavy, unrelenting, pulling.

There was nowhere to hide in the reflection of the elevator walls.

No way to escape that look.

My fingers curled at my sides.

And then I heard it — his voice, rough, uneven, breaking:

“To hell with the agreement…”

The next second, my back hit the wall of the elevator, and his mouth crashed onto mine.

He kissed me— hungry, desperate, like he’d been restraining himself for far too long.

His hands slid up, cupping my face, thumbs brushing my jaw.

He angled my head, deepening the kiss, demanding a response.

I gave it without hesitation.

My fingers clutched at his shirt, pulling him closer.

He tasted like warmth and something dark and dangerous that I never wanted to escape.

He kept kissing me deeper. Stronger. As if afraid I might disappear if he stopped.

My head spun — from the elevator’s motion, from the hangover, but mostly from him.

This was my first kiss. My first real one. My first everything.

And there was no going back from it.

Not anymore.

Chapter Text

It felt like that elevator was descending forever—an eternity trapped between his breath and mine.

But the moment the doors chimed and slid open, Phayu jerked away from me as if struck by lightning.

My lips were burning. My skin too.

Every cell in my body buzzed with a feverish heat, and I struggled to draw a full breath.

Judging by the way Phayu steadied himself against the wall, chest rising in sharp bursts, he wasn’t faring much better.

He grabbed my hand without a word and pulled me out of the elevator.

We crossed the lobby in tense silence and stepped out.

A new car was already waiting at the entrance—another luxury vehicle, this time a BMW.

I honestly had no idea how many cars he owned or why one person needed that many.

He opened the passenger door for me.

I sat down, clutching my trembling hands together.

I could still taste him.

I could still feel the press of his mouth on mine, hot and consuming, and God  I wanted that damn elevator to break down so it would never end.

I startled when he opened the driver’s door and slid into his seat.

He buckled up, then immediately turned toward me.

He didn’t speak. Just looked.

His eyes were almost black.

I had seen that look once—when he told me to stay away from him.

If he dared repeat those words now…

I unconsciously licked my lips, opened my mouth to ask if everything was alright—but he lifted his hand first.

His thumb brushed over my lower lip, then glided along my cheek.

“God, Rain…” he breathed, voice rough. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me.”

A dangerous warmth curled in my stomach.

I wasn’t sure why, but pride, bright and reckless, flared in my chest.

Well… what was I doing to him?

Phayu inhaled sharply, pulled his hand back, and started the engine.

We drove toward my neighborhood, the city lights sliding across the windshield.

“Rain,” he said finally, eyes fixed on the road, “I’m picking you up from work tonight. Your shift ends at eight, right?”

I blinked at him.

“…Yes. That’s right. But—how do you know my schedule?”

A small smirk tugged at his lips — the one he always tried to hide.

“I put two and two together. You wouldn’t take the morning shift after last night, and your shop closes at eight. So I assumed you’d be free.”

Sure. “Assumed.” As if he didn’t have my entire life mapped out already.

But I only smiled weakly and asked:

“So… what do you want to do tonight?”

His knuckles whitened on the steering wheel.

“You’ll find out later. Just… trust me.”

That’s all I’ve been doing, I thought bitterly.

Trusting him.

Falling into every shadow he cast.

And yet… each word from him hooked deeper into my chest, no matter how hard I tried to take control of my own heart.

I looked out the window, gathering the scraps of courage still floating in my bloodstream—probably remnants of the hangover.

“P’Phayu…” I murmured.

He hummed a low acknowledgment.

“Why did you tell me to stay away… but then you came to the club, brought me to the hotel, fed me, kissed me like you’ve been waiting for it since the day we met… drove me here… and now want to see me again tonight? I just… I want to understand.”

I didn’t add: What the hell bit you that night?

But the thought was there.

His profile shifted—just a little.

Shoulders dropping. Jaw softening.

“Tonight,” he said quietly. “Tonight you’ll understand. Not everything, but… enough. This isn’t the place for that conversation.”

He hesitated. Then added, voice thick:

“I’m not like other people, Rain. My… tastes are specific.”

Great.

Exactly what my anxiety needed— another cryptic riddle.

I sighed and turned my face toward the window again.

What could he possibly mean? What was so terrifying that he couldn’t just tell me?

And what kind of “agreement” was waiting for me?

It felt like I wasn’t going to see someone I liked…but a business negotiation.

It scared and thrilled me.

Before I knew it, we were already in front of my building.

Phayu parked the car, stepped out, and of course opened my door first.

Control. Always control.

I stepped out and looked at him.

The sunlight hit his eyes, turning them warm, golden-brown again.

Not the storm-black from the elevator.

“Thank you,” I murmured. “So… tonight?”

He took my hand. My heart skipped painfully.

“I want to walk you upstairs. I need to know you’re safely inside.”

“O-Okay…”

We went into the building hand in hand.

He silently scanned the lobby, the hallway, the elevator.

He looked like a man assessing territory.

We reached my floor.

I unlocked the door— just in time to hear Sky’s loud, unmistakable laughter from inside.

Good. He was alive. At least one of us had a stable emotional life.

We stepped inside and froze.

Sky was sitting on the kitchen table wearing nothing but an oversized T-shirt.

Between his legs, bending over him, stood a shirtless guy only wearing pants.

Phayu’s brother.

Prapai.

We definitely interrupted something.

Sky’s eyes widened.

“Shit! Rain! Why are you here so early?!”

Both of them scrambled, Sky sliding off the table and trying to cover his legs, Prapai reaching for a shirt on the sofa.

“Ahem,” Phayu said, voice flat. “Get ready, Pai. We’re leaving.”

“Oh relax,” Prapai muttered. “You’re the ones who barged in.”

“Hey!” Sky squeaked.

Prapai just laughed, finally slipping into his shirt while never once taking his eyes off Sky.

Phayu sighed, exasperated, then turned to me.

“I’ll see you tonight. I’ll be at your work at eight. Agreed?”

He reached out, cupped my cheek, and gently squeezed.

The elevator flashed before my eyes.

“…Yes,” I whispered. “See you tonight, P’Phayu.”

Meanwhile Prapai leaned close to Sky and murmured, low enough only he could hear:

“I’ll call you. And don’t you dare ignore me. I know where you live now. And for now..I won't leave you alone”

He winked, then joined his brother at the door.

When they left, silence filled the apartment.

Sky jumped up and rushed toward me.

“Well?! SAY something! What happened with Phayu?! Don’t tell me—”

I smirked.Then dropped the bomb.

“…We kissed.”

Sky screamed.

“WHAT?! Rain, you KISSED Phayu! HOW WAS IT?? NO, WAIT, TELL ME EVERYTHING!”

I laughed, but the happiness inside me felt fragile — like a glass ornament in shaking hands.

“Wait..And what about you?” I asked, raising a brow. “You and Prapai… What happened between you two?”

Sky rolled his eyes and smiled.

“Well… after you abandoned me in the bar, he came up and said he was P’Phayu’s brother. He promised to get me home safe and sound. And well, he did. But somehow he also ended up staying the night…”

“Ahhh.” I lifted my brows in mock surprise.

“So that’s what we’re calling it now? ‘Staying the night’?”

Sky groaned and rolled his eyes even harder.

“Rain…”

I softened.

“Sky… you look happy. Really happy. If you want to see him again—do it. But if he ever hurts you, I swear I’ll kill Phayu first and him second.”

“I love you!”

Sky shouted after me as I went to get ready for work.

Work went by faster than I expected.

Customers came in waves - loud, confused, impatient, and I barely had a moment to breathe.

Nalin hovered around me for the first hour, bombarding me with questions about my exams, whether I rested, if I survived “student hell.”

I admitted I’d gotten drunk for the first time in years, but skipped over the part where I kissed Phayu.

Not because I didn’t trust her.

She was practically family at this point, but because I didn’t know what, exactly, that kiss meant.

What he meant. What tonight would mean.

Eventually Nalin headed home, leaving me alone to close the shop.

By the time the clock struck eight, I had finished cleaning, turned off the lights, and locked the door.

I turned around and felt my breath catch.

He was there.

Phayu stood beside his car, dressed in another immaculate suit.

Not the one from the morning, not the one from the night before, a new one.

His sunglasses hid his eyes, but I felt his gaze on me like heat on my skin.

“P’Phayu!” I smiled despite myself. “Sorry, there were so many customers today—”

A small, soft smile curved his lips.

“Don’t worry. Get in.”

He opened the passenger door. Of course he did.

I got in and fastened my seatbelt.

He rounded the car, sat behind the wheel, and the engine purred to life.

We drove in silence, but it wasn’t an awkward one.

It felt… grounding.

Like he knew I needed a few quiet minutes after the chaos of the day.

Still, from the corner of my eye, I saw the way his hands gripped the steering wheel.

Too tightly.

As if something inside him was pacing, restless, prowling.

We reached one of the most expensive districts in Bangkok.

Not surprising.

If anyone was going to live here, it would be him.

The car stopped in front of a tall gate.

As it opened, we drove into the estate - and my jaw nearly dropped.

Wow.

Phayu’s mansion wasn’t a house.

It was a statement.

A sharp, geometric monolith of dark concrete, steel, and glass.

Four stories high.

Perfect lines, razor edges, a fortress shaped by an architect who trusted nothing and no one.

Hidden light traced the walls in thin, elegant strips-not ostentatious, just precise.

The massive windows were black mirrors, revealing nothing of what lay behind them.

I whispered before I could stop myself:

“…God.”

Phayu cast me a quick, amused glance.

“Impressive?”

I nodded too fast.

“D–did you design it yourself?”

A subtle smile.

“Yes. It took a long time.”

Of course it did.

He pulled into a garage so spotless it looked like a luxury car showroom.

Six cars gleamed under soft lights-sport models, classic models, and a few I didn’t even recognize.

I stared. He noticed. Of course he did.

He shut his door, walked around, and opened mine.

I stepped out, suddenly aware of how small and ordinary I must look in a place like this.

He led me through the door into his home - and the inside stole the breath from my lungs.

If the exterior was a fortress, the interior was a cathedral.

High ceilings. Open space. A hypnotic balance of cold materials and warm accents.

White marble floors. Smoke-grey walls.

Furniture soft and minimalist, arranged with ruthless precision.

The air smelled faintly of wood, clean citrus, and something dark and warm— like Phayu himself.

There were no photographs, no personal trinkets, no mess.

Nothing that suggested someone lived here.

Just control. Just order. Just design.

A dark leather sofa sat beside a low, raw wooden table-cold and warm, side by side.

Exactly like him.

“Do you like it here?” his voice brushed against my thoughts.

I turned quickly.

“Y-yes. It’s… it’s beautiful. In its own way.”

He nodded and placed two glasses of water on the coffee table.

“Sit.”

My stomach tightened. Here it comes.

I sat at the large oak dining table.

He stood beside me, placing a document and a pen in front of me.

“You need to sign this before I can show you anything… before we continue.”

I swallowed hard.

“What… is it?”

“A nondisclosure agreement,” he said simply. “You can’t discuss our relationship with anyone. My lawyer insists.”

I choked on air.

“A—a what? But—”

“If you don’t sign it, Rain,” he said softly, but with steel beneath the words, “you’ll have to leave.”

My pulse thundered in my ears.

But I picked up the pen anyway.

My hand trembled as I signed.

Whatever this was, whatever he was...I needed to understand.

When I lifted my eyes, he was already watching me.

Silent. Serious. Dark.

And then he said

“Come with me.”

Chapter Text

Phayu held out his hand to me.

I took it, my fingers naturally settling into his palm - warm, strong, confident.

We walked to the second floor.

The corridor here was completely different from the one downstairs: silent, as if sound itself was afraid to violate the space; darker; more austere.

Wall sconces softly illuminated walls of a deep, almost nocturnal blue.

The air itself seemed to change: it became denser, more viscous… heavier.

Phayu stopped at one of the doors.

It was massive, made of dark wood, with no handle—just a matte metal plate in its place.

He turned to me.

"Listen to me," his voice dropped low, almost vibrating. "You can leave at any moment. Do you understand me?"

I swallowed, blinked.

A sensation rose in my throat… anticipation? Fear?

I couldn't tell.

Taking a slow, long breath, I lowered my gaze to the door, then raised it back to him.

"Phi… stop it. Whatever it is… I need to understand. Open it."

A brief pause.

Phayu looked at me as if trying to read every millimeter of my face, searching for even a shadow of doubt.

There was none.

I was trembling, yes. But not from a desire to run away.

He placed his palm against the metal plate.

A quiet click, a barely audible whisper, and the door slid smoothly to the side.

I inhaled… and didn't even notice when I stopped breathing.

This was a room impossible to forget.

It was dark inside but not empty.

The darkness here lived, existed, breathed.

First, soft ceiling lights came on - diffuse, warm, golden.

They fell upon walls painted a dense blue. Not 'bright,' not 'childish' but deep, like a nocturnal ocean abyss.

A color that draws you in.

The floor was dark, almost black parquet.

In the center - a rug, also dark blue, textured, soft, like a cloud underfoot.

But that wasn't the main thing.

Throughout the room, like exhibits in a private gallery, stood objects… alien.

Unfamiliar. Too adult. Too explicit.

A leather restraint frame with straps but neat, well-kept, as if cared for better than people.

A dark chair of an unusual shape.

I couldn't immediately understand how one would even sit in it.

A tall frame with ropes. Thin, white, perfectly woven, like a work of art.

A low cabinet, and on it, neat boxes, closed, without a single hint of their contents.

And more - along the wall stretched a wide shelf holding items of metal, wood, leather, each of different shape, color, purpose.

Nothing was out of place.

Each object looked polished, arranged, labeled with a small metal plaque.

Like a surgeon's tools.

And… in the very center stood a bed. Enormous.

I froze.

Every cell in my body felt light, as if I'd stopped feeling the ground beneath my feet.

This wasn't just a room.

This was someone's inner essence, laid bare and displayed on the walls.

I didn't even realize I'd exhaled:

"God… Phi… what… what is this?.."

Phayu stood behind me, hands in his trouser pockets.

He looked colder than ever - but his eyes burned with something dangerous, almost predatory.

"This is a part of my life," he said quietly. "The part no one sees. The part no one talks about." He took a step inside. "Here I am… real."

I heard my heart pound.

Loudly. Painfully.

He walked a little further, to the center of the room, slowly, confidently—like a person who completely belonged to this space.

"What you see…" he touched the leather frame with his fingers, almost tenderly, "…are tools."

He glanced at me.

"Trained hands use them to guide, to control, to give a sense of safety." His gaze darkened slightly. "And pleasure."

I swallowed again.

My lips felt dry.

"So… you…" the words barely came out, my voice trembled.

"You do… that… here?"

He looked straight at me.

Without blinking.

"Yes."

A pause.

"This is the room where I bring those who understand who I am."

Another pause.

"And those who sign the agreement."

I looked away.

I felt simultaneously flushed and chilled.

From fear, from ignorance, from desire… which I was afraid to acknowledge.

"Rain," Phayu's voice grew darker, lower. "Are you afraid of this?"

I inhaled. Exhaled.

And honestly:

"I… don't know."

He came closer.

Very close.

So close I felt the heat radiating from his body.

"That's normal," he said quietly. "That's precisely why I don't do anything until a person understands what they're choosing."

He leaned in slightly, his breath touching my cheek.

"I don't play with those who aren't ready."

The room pressed down.

Enticed. Frightened. Burned inside.

It seemed the air here was thick as honey.

And I… didn't know if I wanted to step back.

Or step closer.

"Let's go," Phayu said softly.

We left the room; he closed it the same way he opened it-with a single touch.

Phayu walked to a door at the end of the corridor and opened it.

He gestured for me to enter.

I… stepped into the bedroom.

It had a view of the garden, was spacious, practically the size of the entire apartment Sky and I rented.

There was a large bed, a private bathroom, a wardrobe covering an entire wall.

"If… you agree to be with me, you'll stay here… This… will be your personal room."

What? Wait.

"What…?" I looked at him. "Will we… sleep in separate rooms…?"

Phayu nodded. "Yes… I… always sleep alone…"

I let out a slightly nervous sigh.

"I… see…"

I left the room and headed downstairs.

It was incredibly hard to process everything.

As if this was all a dream.

As if I would wake up now and simply… not remember any of it.

All this information made my head spin.

I tried to exhale and sat on the living room sofa.

Phayu sat down next to me.

"You… don't have to decide right now. I've also prepared a copy of the contract for you to review. Everything is clearly outlined there, and you can always make your own amendments, cross out or add what you like…"

I looked at him and gave a slight, wry smile.

"But… how will I understand what I like and what I don't…?"

Phayu looked at me with an expression I couldn't read.

"What do you mean…?"

I licked my dry lips and literally stared at him.

"But… I've never…" I shook my head.

I couldn't finish.

And for the first time during all this, I… saw shock on Phayu's face.

"What..? Wait… so you're… a virgin..?"

I nodded. But didn't look away.

I felt my cheeks burning fiercely.

Phayu stood up.

He paced a little back and forth.

Then sat back down.

And… cupped my face in his hands, searching it for answers to his questions.

"But… weren't you… didn't anyone ever want to…?"

I… shook my head and smiled slightly.

"No. There might have been willing people, but… I just didn't want to… I… was waiting for something, or rather… someone… special…"

"A virgin…" he repeated in a whisper, as if the word itself stunned him.

His voice dropped lower. Much lower.

"You have no idea what this does to me."

He leaned closer. His palm settled on my neck- firmly, confidently, authoritatively, and his thumb slowly traced my pulse.

"Say it again," he whispered.

"What…?"

"What you were waiting for. Someone special."

I shuddered.

Every cell in my body seemed to know: this wasn't a request.

This was a command.

I inhaled, exhaled, gathered myself.

"I was waiting… for you."

Something in his eyes shifted.

Darkened. Deepened.

He pulled my chin toward him, not roughly, but so confidently it took my breath away.

"Rain," his voice became velvet and harsh at the same time, "you have no idea what you're getting yourself into."

He moved closer.

His chest barely touched mine- a light, torturous touch that made me arch forward slightly.

"You think it's just a 'first time'?"

He ran his fingers along my waist, lingering on my skin just long enough to make me shiver.

"No. Not with me."

I caught his gaze- heavy, dominating, dangerous.

He lifted my wrists and pressed them against the wall, his palms pinning them above my head.

This movement was pure control.

Pure power.

"Don't touch me," he repeated lowly.

"P'Phayu…"

"Only I touch."

He leaned in and almost met my lips, but stopped a millimeter away.

"And you—receive."

My knees trembled.

He gave a quiet, dark, satisfied chuckle.

"You can't even imagine how perfect you are… for submission."

He traced my cheek, my jawline with his lips-slowly, torturously.

"Sensitive."

A kiss at the corner of my lips, fleeting, like a spark.

"Nervous." A kiss on my neck, slow, wet.

"And so… obedient."

I let out a quiet exhale, almost a moan.

He heard it.

His fingers tightened around my wrists.

"Just like that," he whispered, his lips moving to my ear.

"Good boy."

I felt ignited from within.

"P'Phayu…"

He caught my lower lip with his teeth, lightly, but with a promise of force too clear..and my vision blurred.

"Do you want me to take you the way I take my partners?"

His voice became steely, dangerous.

"I… don't know…" I hesitated.

"Correct." He almost growled. "Because you're not ready."

He lowered my right wrist but kept my left pinned above my head- with one hand, so easily, as if I were weightless.

His free hand landed on my stomach.

Hot, hard, possessive-and slid upward, raising my breath with it.

"The first thing I should do…" he leaned into my ear, his voice low, predatory, "…is tie you up."

He slowly traced a finger along the inside of my wrist.

"Tightly. To restrain you so you can't flinch. So you can't touch me, even if you beg."

I moaned - quietly, involuntarily.

He chuckled.

"But with you, I can't do that."

His hand slid lower, toward my hips, not touching directly, but close enough to make my legs tremble.

"Your body is too soft."

He kissed my neck-wetly, slowly, pressing.

"Too pure."

A kiss beneath my ear.

"Too unprepared."

He pulled back and looked at me as if making a life-altering choice.

"I will be your first, but… not as a Dom."

A pause.

Long. Tense.

"But as a man who wants you more than he should."

My breath caught. He released my wrist slowly, as if letting go of something intimate and recaptured my face with his hands.

"You will be in my bed," he spoke low, hot, pressing each word into my skin, "beneath me…"

His fingers descended my neck.

"without ropes."

Over my collarbone- slowly, agonizingly.

"without floggers."

Across my chest - warm, firm.

"without rules."

He leaned in and kissed me deeply, possessively, as if consuming me.

I could barely stand.

He held me by the waist with one arm - tightly, masterfully, confidently keeping me from falling.

The kiss grew deeper.

Hotter. More insistent.

I moaned.

He held on.

When he broke away, our foreheads touched. We were both breathing heavily.

"When I first enter you," he whispered, his lips brushing mine, "you will moan my name."

A pause.

"And I will make it so you never… ever… want anyone else."

After these words, he literally devoured my lips with renewed force.

The next second, he tore his mouth from mine and took my hand.

"Come…"

We went up to the third floor and entered… Phayu's bedroom.

I didn't have time to look around and grasp its exact appearance; I only saw the bed, large.

He led me to it and… began removing my t-shirt.

Once he took it off, he attacked my lips with new intensity.

I wanted so badly to hug him and instinctively tried to wrap my arms around his neck, but the next second he pulled my hands away and smiled a sharp, predatory grin.

"I said, don't touch me…" and the next second, he practically threw me onto the bed.

I… felt my heart pounding wildly from the realization of what was about to happen.

I wasn't scared; it was more… thrilling.

Phayu loomed over me and the next second, his lips were on my neck.

I threw my head back onto the pillows and let out a sigh that sounded more like a moan.

Phayu grabbed my hands and placed them above my head.

"Keep them like that, don't let go…"

I looked at him and silently nodded.

I didn't know what to say; my thoughts and voice seemed paralyzed.

He returned to my neck, licking it, but… was careful.

As if he didn't want to leave marks.

With one hand, he still held my hands above my head.

And then… I felt the warmth of his lips leave my neck.

He began moving lower, kissing my chest and stopping at my nipples.

He licked one nipple, lightly sucking on it.

I immediately closed my eyes, involuntarily arched, and released a moan.

I… heard Phayu's satisfied sigh.

"So you like that…"

He began doing the same to my other nipple, simultaneously playing with the first one that was already sensitive from all the kisses.

God, it was… so good…

I swallowed, opened my eyes, and looked at him.

Our gazes met.

His eyes were dark again; moonlight faintly illuminated his face, and I could see a glint of saliva at the corner of his mouth.

I… felt my insides responding to him.

Phayu began kissing my stomach, moving lower toward the waistline of my pants, sending frenzied waves of goosebumps across my skin.

"Spread your legs for me…"

Breathing heavily, I nodded and spread my legs.

Phayu settled between them, opened my fly, and took off my pants.

I lay before him in just my underwear.

I was sure my chest was heaving violently.

I couldn't control anything.

Not myself, not my sensations.

All I wanted was him.

At any cost.

Phayu slightly lifted my leg and began kissing my calf.

He carefully traced words with his tongue that he couldn't speak.

He kissed the inside of my thigh, reaching the top, and literally… gave it a slight bite.

I squealed a little and then laughed.

"Ah… sorry…" I swallowed and smiled. "That tickled…"

Phayu smiled with the corner of his mouth and looked at me.

"Are you absolutely sure…?"

What could I say? No?

If I weren't sure, I would have pushed him away long ago, even before entering that strange room.

I nodded.

"Y…yes… I'm sure."

After these words, Phayu placed his hands on my underwear and… slid them off me.

I involuntarily started to cross my legs, as if it happened on its own.

However, Phayu placed a hand on my knee, stopping me.

"No, no… don't do that. Now is not the time to hide from me, Rain…"

He spread my legs again.

He lay down between them, and the next second I… felt something unreal.

His mouth enveloped my cock.

It was so warm and soft.

I arched my back, sank into the pillows, and clutched the sheets with my hands above my head.

God, I wouldn't last long.

"P…Phi… Phayu…"

That was probably all I could manage to say.

I couldn't control my moans as he did it so skillfully, so naturally…

I began to feel heat pooling low in my belly.

It felt good.

So good I could hardly believe this was really happening to me.

The next moment, I felt Phayu gently lift my hips… and I understood I was completely at his mercy.

Helpless… and… he could see everything, absolutely everything.

I… felt a cold finger at my entrance and, involuntarily licking my lips, opened my eyes and looked at him.

He was clearly pleased with the effect he was having on me.

He leaned over to the nightstand, opened it, took out a bottle of lube, and handed it to me.

"Open it…"

I took the bottle with my trembling hands and opened it.

"Good… good boy…"

Phayu placed his hands above my head again.

He settled back between my legs.

I saw him coat his fingers with lube and the next second he looked at me.

"Take a deep breath…"

I obeyed him and immediately felt his mouth back on my cock and his finger beginning to press inside me.

I started moaning, loudly and… almost desperately.

"Oh my god…"

I swallowed and gripped the pillow with my hand.

Phayu, watching my reaction, clearly understood I had no objections and continued to suck me off while moving his finger in and out.

I… I really wasn't going to last long.

Seriously.

And at that moment, I felt Phayu add a second finger and began literally opening me up.

I… felt that heat.

Heat everywhere… in my stomach, my chest; I think I started to sweat.

Phayu began moving his fingers faster, deeper, and the next second he touched something inside that made me cry out.

"Oh God!" I jerked my head up and looked at him. "How… how did you… what was that..?"

Phayu smiled, pulled my cock from his mouth, and stood up.

He stepped back from the bed a little and just looked at me.

He… started unbuttoning his shirt and took it off.

I was stunned.

His body… it was beautiful.

His suits had clearly hidden how perfectly sculpted he was. But that wasn't the only thing that caught me off guard.

His… chest was covered in scars.

What… where did they come from..?

I felt my throat go dry, swallowed, and the next second he removed his pants and underwear all at once.

Oh my god. His cock was erect. 

I… can't imagine how much he had been holding back.

Phayu came back to the bed.

He hovered over me and, reaching for the nightstand again, took out a condom.

He started putting it on and the next second leaned down to my lips and captured them.

But now he wasn't kissing me with raw passion; there was something almost tender about it. He pulled away from my lips and I felt his… cock press against my entrance.

"I wish you could see… how beautiful you are, Rain…" he whispered.

I… felt that same heat flare again low in my belly.

I wanted so badly to hug him, pull him close, but I felt him tighten his grip with one hand on my hands, making sure they stayed in place.

The next second, I felt him begin to enter me.

I threw my head back again and he buried his face in my neck.

I felt a burning sensation, felt pain, but fleeting… it was replaced by a dull ache and the sheer awareness of what was happening.

I felt him completely inside me.

I moaned, clenching my fingers tighter.

I felt my eyes rolling back.

"Oh god… Oh god Phi… P'Phayu…"

"Shh…"

I felt his finger trace my lips, and the next minute he captured my lips and started to move.

He thrust into me smoothly.

Going deep, slow, but pulling back sharply.

I felt my entire body wound to its limit.

The heat spread through my body more and more intensely.

I felt incredible tremors in every cell.

And then I heard the most erotic sound of my life.

His moan.

Low, velvety… real.

That… practically pushed me over the edge.

He released my hands, but I didn't move them.

I just looked at him, felt my eyes burning, felt my cheeks burning.

And I realized I was practically at my limit.

"P…Phi… Phayu… I… I'm going to… now…"

He covered my lips with a kiss.

He swallowed all my moans when all I could see was white light.

I felt the intensity of my release, how I clenched around him inside me, and how… he lost control too.

He pressed his face into my neck, letting out a drawn-out moan, breathing heavily.

How I wanted to hug him.

But I was just laying there, and coming back to myself.

Trying to understand what had happened.

Trying to understand what I had just given to Phayu.

Given… myself.

And I… I don't want to lose him.

No matter what is in that agreement I need to read.

I… won't let him go.

My consciousness seemed to float. I felt the warmth of Phayu's body leave me.

The next second, he picked me up - actually lifted me, bridal style and the room shifted around us.

By the time my brain caught up, I realized we were in the bathroom.

Soft light, steam starting to ghost in the air.

He lowered me carefully into the bathtub and turned on the water, one hand still steadying me by the shoulder.

“Tell me if it’s too hot,” he said quietly.

I nodded, my eyes still mostly closed.

Words felt heavy on my tongue.

The first touch of water curled around my skin, warm, then warmer, but never uncomfortable.

It felt like my body finally remembered it existed: the ache in my muscles, the pleasant soreness, the lingering echo of his hands on me.

And then I felt those hands again.

Not demanding now. Not claiming.

Just… gentle.

He soaped a washcloth and began to wash me, slow and careful, like I was something breakable.

His fingers brushed along my arms, my shoulders, my chest, rinsing away sweat, tension, the last sharp edges of what had just happened.

It was… nice.

Too nice.

My head lolled back against the edge of the tub, and a weak, sleepy laugh slipped out of me.

“If you keep doing that,” I mumbled, not entirely sure what language I was even speaking in, “I’m… never leaving this bathtub…”

He huffed a soft breath that might’ve been a laugh and tapped my knee lightly.

“You’re falling asleep in the water,” he said. “That’s dangerous.”

“Mm. You’ll catch me,” I murmured, already half-gone. “You always do…”

Silence followed.

The good kind.

Heavy, safe.

I didn’t feel the exact moment he stopped washing me - only that the motions grew slower, then disappeared.

The water drained away in a low hum, and a moment later a large, warm towel wrapped around me.

He dried me off with that same patient thoroughness, as if he had all the time in the world just for this.

My eyes fluttered open for a second. I saw only fragments: the line of his jaw, the concentration in his brow, a drop of water sliding down his throat.

My chest tightened.

“P… Phi…” I whispered. “Don’t… leave… okay…?”

His hands paused for a fraction of a second.

Then he tucked the towel more securely around me.

“I’m not going anywhere tonight,” he said softly.

The next thing I knew, I was in his arms again, the world swaying gently as he carried me.

The air changed - cooler, darker, familiar now.

The faint scent of his cologne and clean linen told me everything I needed to know long before my foggy brain put it together.

We were back in his bedroom.

He laid me down on the mattress with a care that made my throat sting.

The sheets were cool and soft against my skin, smelling like him.

A blanket settled over me a moment later, tucked in at my sides.

Either it only felt that way, or it was really true, but I doubted we had ever left this room at all.

Or maybe… it didn’t matter.

Because the more my consciousness slipped, the clearer one thought became:

Could it be… that I’m actually going to sleep in his bed?

I tried to force my eyes open, to look for him, to ask - are you staying? Am I allowed to want that?

But my lashes were too heavy.

Before I could form anything coherent, his voice reached me, close, low, right by my ear.

“It’s okay,” he murmured. “Sleep.”

Something inside me loosened.

The last thing that slipped past my lips was barely more than a breath:

“’m yours… Phi…”

Maybe he heard it.

Maybe I only dreamed that his fingers brushed my hair back from my forehead.

If I really am in his bed…

The thought never finished.

Sleep took me whole.

Chapter Text

I woke up wrapped in warmth.

Not just the warmth of my own body, not the leftover heat of sleep—real warmth. The softness of expensive sheets against my skin. A thick comforter, heavy in the way it’s supposed to be when you’re safe. The kind of bedding that doesn’t smell like laundry detergent, but like… money.

And then the scent hit me properly.

Lavender. Clean and soothing, and underneath it, something darker, smoother. Amber. Like the kind of cologne people wear when they want to be remembered after they leave a room.

My eyelids fluttered open.

Ceiling.

I stared at it for one, two, three seconds before my brain caught up to my body.

Ceiling that isn’t mine.

My stomach dropped.

Oh no.

Oh no.

I turned my head slightly, almost afraid of what I’d find, and there it was—the proof I didn’t dream it. The unfamiliar angle of the room. The stillness of it. The quiet that belonged to a house, not a dorm or an apartment.

Phayu’s bedroom.

My throat went dry as sand.

And then the memory came back like a wave, hot and merciless.

His hands. His mouth.

The bed. The kisses. The way he looked at me like he’d been starving for years and I was the first thing he’d ever truly wanted.

His voice in my ear.

Good boy.

My entire body reacted to the memory as if it was happening again—heat rushing to my face, down my chest, curling low in my stomach.

And then the final thought slammed into me so hard it made me dizzy.

We…

We really did…

My fingers curled into the sheets.

Oh my God.

He took my virginity.

I sucked in a breath like I’d been punched and my first instinct was to panic. To jump out of the bed, to put distance between myself and last night before it became real.

My muscles tensed, ready to spring

—and then I heard it.

Soft breathing.

A quiet, steady sound beside me.

I froze.

My eyes moved slowly, almost unwilling.

Phayu was asleep next to me.

Properly asleep. No tension in his shoulders, no sharp lines of control in his face. His hair was a mess, falling into his forehead in a way that made him look younger. Unguarded. Human.

My heart squeezed painfully in my chest.

Because that’s the thing. Phayu was always… something.

Always intense. Always watching. Always a little too composed, like he was holding the world in place with his own hands.

But right now, in sleep, he looked… peaceful.

I didn’t know how to explain it. It was as if the usual shadow in his eyes wasn’t there. That deep, unreadable sadness I sometimes thought I saw when he looked at me, or when he thought I wasn’t paying attention.

Maybe I imagined it. Maybe I was projecting.

But right now…

Right now he looked like someone who finally stopped fighting.

I shifted carefully, turning onto my side fully.

The clock on the bedside table read 7:00 AM.

Of course. Who wakes up at seven on a day off?

I would’ve been asleep too if the feeling in my chest wasn’t buzzing like a warning - too much adrenaline, too much emotion, too much everything.

I stared at his face, studying it like I could understand him better if I memorized every line.

His lashes were long. Ridiculously long for someone who had no right to be that pretty. His lips were slightly parted, breathing warm air into the space between us.

Without thinking, I lifted a hand.

A strand of hair had fallen across his forehead, almost into his eyes. My fingers hovered, wanting to brush it away, wanting to touch him in a way that wasn’t desperate or hungry, but soft.

I stopped myself at the last second and pulled my hand back.

Don’t wake him.

I didn’t know what I would do if he opened his eyes and looked at me like he did last night. Like I belonged to him.

The thought sent a shiver through me.

Slowly, carefully, I slid out of bed.

My body reminded me immediately of what we’d done - an ache between my thighs, tender and warm. Not exactly pain, not exactly comfort either. More like… proof.

I glanced down.

I was only wearing underwear.

I needed something to throw on.

The room was dim, curtains still drawn. I squinted, searching for my clothes in the darkness, but my eyes couldn’t make anything out.

And then I saw it.

A shirt folded over the back of a chair, like it had been tossed there without thought.

Phayu’s shirt.

I grabbed it and pulled it on.

It swallowed me instantly, hanging off my shoulders, the hem nearly brushing my thighs. It smelled like him. Lavender, amber, and something else I couldn’t name but felt in my bones.

I rolled up the sleeves, then tiptoed toward the door.

Every movement felt too loud. The floor too polished. The air too still.

But Phayu didn’t stir.

I slipped out of the bedroom and closed the door quietly behind me.

For a second I leaned against it, heart pounding.

Because leaving the room felt like waking up from a dream.

And the terrifying part was that it wasn’t a dream.

It was my life.

Downstairs, the house was wrapped in early morning light.

The first sunbeams stretched across the floor like pale gold ribbons. Everything looked expensive and untouched, like the kind of home people take pictures of for magazines.

It was unbelievably quiet.

No neighbors. No traffic. No distant yelling. Just… silence.

The kind that presses against your ears and makes you aware of every breath you take.

I walked into the living room and spotted my phone on a side table.

Right. Of course. Last night was a blur. No wonder I hadn’t brought it upstairs.

I picked it up.

One missed call from Sky.
One message.

My thumb hovered for a second before I opened it.

I’m home. Hope you’re okay. Text me when you see this so I know you’re alive and Phayu didn’t lock you in some basement.

I snorted softly, covering my mouth with my hand like the sound might echo through the entire house.

Sky.

My best friend. My person.

We shared everything. No secrets. We promised each other we’d never lie. And now my chest tightened, because I had no idea what I could tell him.

Not just because it was personal. Because I signed a non-disclosure agreement.

I’d agreed to things I still didn’t fully understand.

I wasn’t sure if I was even allowed to mention what happened between me and Phayu, and there was no way I could talk about that room. His room of pleasure or pain or whatever the hell it was.

Sky would ask questions. He always did.

And I was terrible at lying.

I stared at the message until my eyes blurred a little.

Then I exhaled and typed:

Good morning!  We stayed up late at dinner at Phayu’s, it got really late and he offered to let me sleep over. I’ll be home in a couple hours!

I sent it before I could overthink it.

Then I set my phone down and stared out the huge window, watching the light crawl across the garden outside.

My mind should’ve been racing.

Instead, my stomach growled loudly enough to drag me back into my body.

Right.

Food.

I needed to make breakfast.

Phayu would wake up soon.

And the idea of him waking up hungry, waking up and looking for me… something about it made me both nervous and oddly… proud?

I walked into the kitchen.

It was huge, like, ridiculously huge. Polished counters, expensive appliances, everything sleek and perfect. It looked like a set from a cooking show.

I looked around, frowning.

Did he cook?

Or did someone cook for him?

I hadn’t seen any staff. No housekeeper. No one.

Just silence.

In the corner of the counter, I noticed a small speaker.

A sudden urge to fill the space hit me - because the quiet of the house was starting to feel like pressure on my ribs.

I turned the speaker on, connected my phone, and picked a playlist.

Soft volume. Just enough to take the edge off.

Music breathed into the kitchen, warming it.

I set my phone down and opened the fridge.

I froze.

There were so many groceries it was almost ridiculous. Enough food for a family. Enough options for even the pickiest person on earth.

My brain tried to be responsible. Make something healthy, it suggested. Egg whites. Salad. Yogurt. Fruit.

But my heart and honestly my entire soul wanted one thing.

Pancakes. With syrup. And coffee.

I grabbed eggs and milk and started searching for flour.

The cupboards were just as full as the fridge. Every shelf neatly stocked. Everything labeled and arranged like he had a system and the system mattered.

Of course. Phayu loved control.

I sighed, smiling despite myself, and got to work.

I mixed batter. I figured out the coffee machine after several minutes of silent arguing with it. I found six different pans (who needs six?) and picked the one that felt right. Then I learned how the fancy stove worked, because it clearly had more buttons than necessary.

Music played.

I hummed along.

At some point, I started swaying without realizing. Just a small rhythm while I poured batter and flipped pancakes, like the kitchen belonged to me.

Time disappeared.

By the time the plate was almost full and the batter was nearly gone, I grabbed the plate and turned—

and nearly died.

“Oh my God!” I yelped, clutching the plate to my chest.

Phayu was sitting at the table.

Like he’d been there the entire time.

He was wearing a simple tank top and sweatpants. His hair was messy. His face rested against one hand, elbow propped on the table.

And he was smiling.

Not a smirk. Not a teasing grin. A real smile.

Soft. Warm.

Like I was something he wanted to keep.

“Am I that scary?” he asked, voice low and velvet-smooth.

“N-no! No, you’re not scary,” I stammered, then laughed awkwardly. “Just… unexpected. How long have you been sitting there?”

He leaned back, crossing his arms.

“Long enough,” he said calmly. “I got to watch you dance.”

My cheeks went hot instantly.

It was stupid. He’d seen me naked. He’d touched me everywhere. He’d made me fall apart.

And yet somehow… being caught swaying to my own music in his oversized shirt felt more embarrassing than any of that.

He let his gaze drag over me.

Slowly.

Like he was remembering last night in the same way my body was.

“That shirt looks very good on you,” he said. “What are you making?”

Breathe, Rain. Breathe.

I forced myself to smile, set the plate down in front of him, and tried to act normal.

“Pancakes,” I said. “I found chocolate and caramel syrup. They should be good. You like pancakes, right, P’Phayu?”

His eyes didn’t look like they usually did.

They were warm. Almost… soft.

“I like them,” he said quietly. “I don’t let myself have them often.”

He didn’t look away as he spoke.

“But how can I refuse this?” he added, voice teasing.

I swallowed.

“Then… good.”

I set out another plate for myself, made two cups of coffee, and sat across from him.

For a while we ate in silence.

Not awkward silence.

Just… quiet.

But I could feel his gaze on me constantly. Not the casual gaze of someone watching. The gaze of an owner.

My skin prickled under it.

I finished my pancakes and took a sip of coffee, setting the mug down carefully.

That’s when Phayu reached out. His finger brushed the corner of my mouth.

I froze.

He wiped away something sticky.

“Syrup,” he murmured.

Then, like it was the most natural thing in the world, he dragged the same finger across my bottom lip.

Slow. Deliberate.

My breath hitched.

His eyes held mine, steady and dark, as if he was kissing me with his stare alone.

I felt my entire body respond instantly, heat spreading low.

Phayu set his own utensils down.

Then he reached across the table and took my hand.

“Come,” he said quietly. “We need to wash up.”

And I went with him, because what else could I do? My brain couldn’t keep up with what my body already knew.

He led me deeper into the first floor. I followed without speaking, my hand in his, his grip firm and warm. We walked into an enormous bathroom.

Not “nice bathroom.” Not “big bathroom.” An insane bathroom.

A bathtub sat in the middle like a centerpiece. The tile gleamed. Everything smelled like clean stone and expensive soap.

Phayu released my hand, turned on the water, and plugged the drain. Water started to fill the tub, steaming slightly. He added something - foam, and a packet of salts, then turned and pulled his shirt off.

I swallowed so hard it almost hurt.

My throat was dry again. My heartbeat was loud in my ears.

Why did he do this to me so easily?

“We’ll take a bath,” he said simply, setting his shirt on a chair.

“A… bath,” I repeated stupidly, because my brain was stalling. “Together?”

He laughed softly, like I was adorable.

“Yes, Rain. Together.” His gaze slid over me. “Don’t be shy. I’ve already seen everything. In great detail.”

Heat rushed up my neck. I exhaled shakily and started undoing the buttons of his shirt. I shrugged it off and let it fall.

His gaze sharpened.

Hungry.

Like he could still taste me.

The tub filled.

Phayu turned off the water, stripped the rest of his clothes without hesitation, and stepped into the bath. He leaned back comfortably, completely at ease in his own skin, then looked at me and tilted his head.

“Get in.”

I hesitated for a fraction of a second, then stepped into the warm water.

It wrapped around me instantly, soothing my sore muscles. I settled between his legs, letting my back rest against his chest.

For the first time since waking, my body relaxed completely. I closed my eyes and let out a slow breath. Behind me, Phayu’s voice brushed my ear.

“Good boy.”

My entire body shuddered.

His hands began to wash me - my chest, my shoulders, my thighs, slow, careful movements that felt too intimate to be real.

And I felt it.

Hard. Pressing against me from behind. Phayu was hard. He wanted me.

The knowledge was like a spark to gasoline.

I swallowed and forced my thoughts into words before fear could stop me.

“P’Phayu…” My voice was quiet. “This… this won’t always be like this, right? When… when I sign the agreement, everything changes…?”

His body tensed instantly. The water rippled around us.

“Yes,” he said after a moment, voice turning lower, colder - not cruel, but guarded. “It won’t stay like this.”

The words should’ve relieved me.

Instead they made my chest ache.

“If you sign it,” he continued, “you’ll be mine. And I’ll be yours.”

He paused, and I felt his breath against my neck.

“But not like this.” His voice sharpened slightly, as if he was warning me. “I’m not a romantic, Rain. I’m not gentle. We won’t go on dates. We won’t hold hands in public. What we have will be confidential.”

His hands tightened on my hips.

“I only know how to be… like that.”

Like that. The other side of him. The side behind closed doors. The side that needed rules and control and agreements.

I stared at the water, heart hammering.

He sounded like he was describing a monster.

But last night… last night he’d held me like I mattered. He’d kissed my forehead. He’d wiped my tears.

And now he was telling me that version of him wasn’t real. Or wasn’t allowed.

I exhaled shakily.

“But…” I whispered, turning my head slightly. “Right now… you’re different.”

Silence.

For a moment, I thought he wouldn’t answer. Then his hands paused on my skin. And he leaned closer.

“So are you,” he said softly.

When the bath was finished, Phayu reached for a towel first.

He stood, water rolling down his body, and I tried not to stare, but it was impossible not to look.

Not after last night. Not after everything. Phayu wrung out his hair quickly, then turned to me.

“Stand,” he said quietly.

I obeyed.

He wrapped a towel around my shoulders, then another around my waist, drying me with slow, careful movements.

Not rushed. Not impatient. Tender.

He dried my hair too, rubbing gently until it wasn’t dripping. Then he reached for a bathrobe - soft, thick, and slipped it around my body.

He tied the belt. His fingers lingered there, just for a second.

And then, like he couldn’t stop himself anymore, he cupped my face and kissed me.

Hard. Hot. Not a gentle kiss. A kiss that said mine.

My breath shattered. My hands grabbed his shoulders automatically.

Phayu kissed me like he was trying to memorize the taste of me, like he was afraid this moment would be taken away.

He pulled back slightly, forehead resting against mine, breath uneven.

And then—

A voice, muffled but distinct, echoed from somewhere outside.

“Khun? Khun Phayu?”

I froze.

Phayu’s entire posture changed. His gaze snapped toward the door.

The voice continued, louder now, and I could hear a second voice underneath it—deeper, calmer, edged with authority.

My stomach dropped. That second voice was unmistakable. Not because I’d heard it often.

But because it sounded like power.

“Phayu,” the voice said. “Open the door.”

Phayu’s jaw tightened.

“Shit,” he muttered.

I blinked rapidly.

“What—?”

He grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist quickly.

“That’s head of my security, Aon” he said, voice clipped. “And… that’s my father.”

My lungs stopped working for a second.

“Your father?”

Before I could process it, the voices came again, closer now, right outside the bathroom.

“Khun, I tried calling, but he wasn’t answering.” Aon sounded nervous.

“And that’s not normal,” the man said, cold and sharp. “He’s never unreachable at this hour.”

Phayu’s eyes flashed. He moved fast.

“Stay here,” he told me.

Then he stopped, looked at me, really looked - and something in his face softened for half a heartbeat.

“No,” he corrected himself instantly, like the softness was dangerous. “Actually, come with me.”

I stared.

“What?”

Phayu grabbed my hand.

“We’re not doing this like a secret,” he said, voice low. “Not when he’s already here.”

My heart slammed against my ribs. Phayu yanked the bathroom door open.

Aon stood outside, stiff as a statue - tall, dressed in black, clearly trained to look like he belonged anywhere.

And next to him -

A man in a dark expensice suit, perfectly groomed, eyes like ice.

He looked expensive in the way Phayu’s house looked expensive: effortless, unquestionable.

Kinn. It’s Kinn Theerapanyakul. Phayu’s father. Adoptive father.

He stared at Phayu first, his gaze scanning him like a weapon.

“Why weren’t you answering my calls at this time?” Kinn demanded.

Phayu stepped forward.

“I was asleep,” Phayu said flatly.

Kinn’s brows lifted slightly.

“Asleep,” he repeated, like the word didn’t belong in his vocabulary when it came to Phayu. “You always wake up before anyone”

Then Kinn’s gaze moved. And he saw me.

Standing behind Phayu in a bathrobe that was definitely too big for me, hair still damp, cheeks flushed.

I felt my soul leave my body. Kinn froze.

The guard froze too, eyes widening for the briefest moment before he forced his expression neutral again.

Kinn stared at me like I was a hallucination.

“And..Who is this,” he said softly, dangerously softly.

Phayu’s hand tightened around mine.

“This,” Phayu said, voice calm, “is Rain.”

Kinn’s eyes narrowed.

“Rain…” He repeated my name silently with his gaze, as if it didn’t fit.

I swallowed. My throat was so dry I thought my voice might crack. I stepped forward a fraction, forcing myself to stand straight.

“H-hello, Khun Kinn” I said. “I’m Rain, It’s nice to meet you”

I hesitated, and laughed nervously.

Kinn studied me. Long enough that my palms started sweating. Oh crap I feel so akward.

Then, unexpectedly, his gaze flicked back to Phayu.

And something shifted.

Because Phayu… somthing in his gaze felt off. He wasn’t cold. He wasn’t defensive.

He was tense, yes - controlled, yes- but there was something else too.

Protectiveness. Possession. A silent warning.

Kinn’s eyes sharpened as he recognized it.

And then, to my complete shock, the coldness in Kinn’s expression softened, just slightly.

Not warm. Not friendly. But… less hostile.

“How long has he been here?” Kinn asked.

Phayu didn’t hesitate.

“Overnight.”

The word hit the room like a bomb. Kinn’s brows rose again, very slowly.

“Overnight..that’s something new” he repeated, voice flat.

Aon cleared his throat awkwardly, looking like he wished he could disappear.

Kinn’s gaze returned to me.

“You,” he said. “Are you… alright?”

The question sounded strange coming from him, like he wasn’t used to asking it.

I blinked. What exactly did he mean by that?

“I—yes. Yes, Khun. P’Phayu took a great care about me. He let me eat breakfast and wash myself”

I gulped. Rain, shut up.

Kinn’s eyes lingered on the faint marks on my neck, because of course there were marks. Of course Phayu had left proof. And then he…laughed. Softly.

My face burned. But Kinn didn’t comment. Instead, he looked at Phayu again.

“You should’ve answered,” Kinn said. “I called three times.”

Phayu’s jaw tightened.

“I know.”

Kinn’s gaze shifted to the Aon.

“Wait outside,” he ordered.

Aon nodded quickly and retreated.

Now it was the three of us - me, Phayu, and Kinn, in a hallway that suddenly felt too small.

Kinn exhaled.

“I came because silence is not normal from you,” he said to Phayu. “Especially not in the morning. So I was worried. Maybe you were sick”

Phayu’s eyes narrowed.

“I’m allowed to sleep.”

Kinn’s mouth twitched.

“You are. But you never do.”

Phayu didn’t answer.

And Kinn looked at me again. Not harshly this time. More like… evaluating.

He took in the robe, the damp hair, the way I stayed close to Phayu without even meaning to.

Then his gaze flicked up and caught Phayu’s expression again.

And that was when I understood. Kinn wasn’t softening because he liked me. He was softening because of what he saw in his son.

Phayu looked at me like… like he was scared. Not of me. Of what I did to him.

Kinn stepped back slightly.

“I won’t stay long,” he said. “I needed to see you were alive.”

Phayu’s shoulders eased by a fraction.

Kinn’s eyes returned to me one last time.

“Rain,” he said, like testing the name again. “Take care of yourself.”

Then he looked at Phayu.

“And you,” he added quietly, “don’t ever leave my calls unanswered”

Phayu’s face softened a bit.

“Okay”

Kinn gave a small nod, then turned and walked away.

The front door closed. Silence swallowed the house again. And I realized I’d been holding my breath the entire time.

Phayu didn’t speak until we were back in the bedroom. He shut the door behind us and leaned against it, eyes closed for a second like he was forcing himself to breathe.

Then he opened his eyes and looked at me.

I was still in his robe. Still damp. Still shaking, not from cold - just from shock.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

“What?” I blinked. “Why are you apologizing?”

Phayu stepped closer.

“For pulling you into that,” he said. “For not warning you. For - ”

He stopped, jaw clenching. Then he reached out and touched my cheek gently.

“And for wanting you here enough that I didn’t answer my phone.”

My heart clenched. I swallowed.

“I thought your father was going to kill me,” I admitted.

Phayu huffed a laugh.

“He won’t,” he said. “Not if you’re mine.”

The words made my stomach flip.

If. He always brought it back to if. The agreement. The line he refused to cross without paperwork.

He exhaled and looked away.

“Get dressed,” he said, voice returning to controlled. “I’ll drive you home.”

My chest tightened.

Home. Right. Real life.

I nodded and found my clothes.

We didn’t talk much while we got ready. Not because we were angry. Because everything felt… fragile. Like one wrong word could shatter it.

The car ride was quiet. Phayu drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting near the gear shift. His expression was unreadable again - calm, controlled.

But his silence felt heavy. I kept glancing at him, trying to read him like a textbook.

What are you thinking? Are you regretting it? Are you… scared?

When we reached a park, Phayu slowed. Then, without explanation, he pulled over and parked.

I blinked.

“What—?”

“Come,” he said.

I followed him out of the car. The air was cool, morning-bright. Sunlight filtered through trees, turning the grass vivid green. There was a few people roaming there. It was quiet.

We walked side by side along a path. It felt… normal. Almost too normal for what we’d done. For the way my body still carried the memory of him.

After a few minutes, Phayu finally spoke.

“Rain, I need you to listen to me…”

I stopped walking. Gulped and looked at him.

“Yes?”

“No one has ever slept in my bedroom,” he said, voice low.

“What?”

Phayu stopped too, turning toward me. His eyes were dark, serious.

“Not once,” he said. “No one stays overnight. No one touches my bed. No one makes themselves at home there.”

My throat tightened.

“But… I did.”

“Yes,” he said. “You did.”

His gaze flicked over my face like he was memorizing me again.

“And you cooked breakfast.”

I blinked, confused.

“It was just pancakes.”

“It wasn’t just pancakes,” he said, voice sharpening slightly, like he was frustrated with himself. “It was… something I never allowed. Something I never wanted.”

He inhaled slowly.

“And then you did it anyway.”

My heart beat too fast.

“P’Phayu…”

He looked away toward the trees.

“You change things,” he said quietly. “Without trying.”

The words were almost… raw. Honest in a way that scared me. Phayu turned back to me.

“And it scares me,” he admitted.

I stared. Phayu. The man who controlled everything. The man who needed contracts and rules. Scared.

“Because I don’t know what I’ll become,” he continued. “If I let you in without boundaries.”

My breath caught. He stepped closer.

“Rain,” he said softly, “I need you to understand something.”

I didn’t move. I couldn’t.

Phayu’s gaze held mine like a promise and a threat all at once.

“I want you,” he said. “And I want you in a way that doesn’t leave room for half-measures.”

His voice dipped lower.

“I’m hoping you’ll sign,” he said. “More than I should.”

I swallowed.

“And if I don’t?” The question came out before I could stop it.

Phayu’s jaw flexed.

Then, surprisingly - he didn’t lash out. He didn’t threaten.

He simply looked at me like the idea hurt.

“Then I’ll let you go,” he said quietly.

My chest ached. We stood there in the sunlight, and the world felt too big and too small at the same time.

Phayu exhaled.

“Come,” he said again, voice soft. “I’ll take you home.”

Back in the car, the silence returned. But it was different now. Not awkward. Heavy with things said and things not said. When we reached my neighborhood, Phayu slowed and pulled up near my place. He didn’t turn the engine off immediately. Instead, he reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulled out a folder.

My stomach flipped.

The agreement.

He placed it in my hands carefully, like it mattered. Like I mattered.

“Read it,” he said.

I stared at it. Then looked up at him. Phayu’s expression was controlled, but his eyes weren’t.

His eyes looked… hopeful. It was terrifying.

“Tell me when you’re done,” he said, voice low. “Message me. Call me.”

He hesitated, then added quietly:

“I’ll be waiting.”

My throat tightened. I nodded.

“Okay,” I whispered.

Phayu held my gaze for a moment longer, like he wanted to say something else.

Then he reached out, touched my cheek once, just a brief brush of his knuckles against my skin.

And pulled away.

“Go,” he murmured.

I opened the door on shaky legs. The agreement felt heavy in my hands as I stepped out of the car. And as Phayu drove away, the scent of lavender and amber faded— but the heat he left in my body didn’t.

Not at all.

Chapter Text

I knew Sky would be waiting.

The apartment lights were on when I unlocked the door, soft and warm.

My bag slid from my shoulder to the floor with a dull thud, and for a second I just stood there, hand still on the handle, chest tight - as if crossing this threshold meant leaving something behind that I wasn’t ready to let go of.

Sky was sitting on the couch, knees pulled up, phone abandoned beside him.

He looked up instantly.

“You’re back,” he said, relief flickering across his face before curiosity took over. “You stayed over.”

It wasn’t a question.

I swallowed.

“I did.”

He studied me carefully.

“Are you okay?”

That was the problem.

I didn’t know how to answer that without breaking something.

I had signed the non-disclosure agreement.

A clean, elegant signature at the bottom of a page that promised silence, discretion, control.

And now, standing in my own living room, with Sky looking at me like this, I realized how little I understood about what I was allowed to say.

“I’m fine,” I said finally, forcing a small smile. “Just… tired.”

Sky didn’t buy it. He never did.

“You look like you haven’t slept,” he said, then softened. “Or like you did, but it wasn’t exactly restful.”

I exhaled slowly and dropped onto the armchair opposite him.

My body remembered too much.

 Warmth, weight, a presence that hadn’t let go even in sleep.

“We talked,” I said carefully. “We spent the night together.”

Sky’s eyebrows lifted. “Spent the night together how?”

I hesitated.

This was where the line was.

Where I could feel the invisible pressure of that agreement pressing against my ribs.

“I can’t tell you everything,” I said quietly. “But… it wasn’t bad. It was intense. Confusing. And… gentle. In ways I didn’t expect.”

Sky leaned back, watching me closely.

“You sound like you’re defending him.”

“Maybe I am,” I admitted. “Or maybe I’m trying to convince myself.”

I looked at him then, really looked - at the familiar mess of his hair, the way he twisted his sleeve when he was nervous.

“Please,” I added softly. “Whatever I tell you… keep it between us.”

He nodded without hesitation.

“Always.”

I told him about waking up in Phayu’s bed.

About the silence of the morning.

About how strange it felt to be held without being claimed.

I didn’t mention the blue room.

Didn’t mention the doors that closed with a whisper and promises I wasn’t ready to name.

Sky listened.

Didn’t interrupt.

When I finished, he was quiet for a moment and then smiled, a small, almost shy smile.

“So… how do you feel after everything…?”

And that was the scariest question.

Because I truly didn’t have an answer.

I felt lost.

I felt like I hadn’t fully processed what had happened.

Like my mind was still catching up with my body.

But I knew one thing for sure.

I didn’t want to lose him.

So I exhaled and gathered my thoughts.

“I feel… fine. Just a lot going on in my head. Sooner or later, I’ll figure it out…”

Sky hummed softly and looked at me.

“Just promise me one thing. Don’t do anything you don’t want to do. And don’t let him hurt you. Otherwise, I’m going to hurt him. A lot. I promise.”

I huffed a laugh.

Thank God I have someone like Sky in my life.

We stayed silent for a while.

“Can I tell you something too?” he asked.

“Of course.”

He hesitated, then laughed softly. “So… Prapai.”

Of course.

The way his face changed when he said the name made something tighten in my chest.

“It’s not dramatic,” Sky said quickly. “He texts too much and eats my food and asks how my day was like it actually matters.”

I felt it then.

The difference.

“He listens,” Sky continued. “Even when I don’t know how to explain myself. And he doesn’t make me feel like I owe him something for being close.”

I smiled for him. Truly.

But inside, a quiet comparison settled in.

This was warmth without conditions.

Touch without permission slips.

A relationship growing forward instead of inward.

Later that night, when Sky left for his date and the apartment fell quiet, I finally faced the folder.

It lay on the edge of the table like something alive.

I just looked away.

Later. I will read it later.

And somehow…Five days have passed.

The folder lay on the edge of the table like it didn’t belong there.

As if it had wandered into my apartment by mistake.

Slid between my notes, my phone charger, the mug with cold coffee I kept forgetting to throw away.

It looked thin.

Harmless. Ordinary.

And yet my entire body reacted to it as if it were dangerous.

I knew better than to call it accidental.

Nothing about Phayu was accidental.

Every word inside that folder had been chosen.

Every rule weighed, measured, calculated.

Every clause—his reflection.

Five days.

Five days I lived as if that folder was armed.

As if the moment I opened it, everything I’d been holding together by sheer will would explode.

My illusions, my carefully balanced sense of self, my belief that I could walk away unchanged.

The apartment was quiet.

Too quiet.

Sky had left earlier for an another date, filling the hallway with his cologne and an offhand comment tossed over his shoulder:

“You’ve been staring at that folder like it owes you money. You sure it’s not staring back?”

I laughed. Too quickly.

“It’s just paperwork,” I said.

Sky raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, but didn’t push.

He never did.

Not when he sensed I wasn’t ready.

When the door closed behind him, the silence rushed in like a held breath finally released.

I sat down at the table. The folder didn’t move. Neither did I.

For a long moment, I just looked at it.

If I don’t open it, I thought, nothing changes.

That was the lie.

Something had already changed.

I sat up straighter.

Enough running.

My fingers slid under the edge of the cover.

The folder opened.

DOMINANCE AND SUBMISSION AGREEMENT

The words were cold.

Clinical.

Too clean.

I traced the line with my fingertip as if I could feel Phayu’s presence through the ink.

“…enter a consensual, intimate, BDSM-influenced relationship…”

My throat tightened.

He didn’t hide it behind romance.

Didn’t soften it with pretty language.

Didn’t pretend this was something else.

He named it.

I remembered his voice—steady, unyielding.

“You can walk away at any time.”

He had said it like gravity.

Like law.

But this document wasn’t offering me an exit.

It was offering me a place to stay.

I began read it slowly.

Safewords were defined clearly.

Yellow — slow down, check in, discomfort.

Red — immediate stop.

Seeing them written out grounded me more than I expected.

He wasn’t erasing my voice.

He was formalizing it.

I turned the page slowly.

Confidentiality. Obligations. Authority. Consent.

My chest tightened.

Why do I have to sign that I’ll obey?

The answer came before I could stop it.

Because you already do.

I leaned back, closing my eyes. Phayu’s voice surfaced immediately.

“Don’t touch me.”

“Only I initiate.”

My body remembered before my mind did.

Heat pooling low in my stomach, not fear, not discomfort.

Desire.

I clenched my fingers.

“Damn it,” I whispered.

Next came paragraph named “Hard Limits”

I braced myself.

I expected darkness.

Things that would make my skin crawl.

Instead, I found restraint.

No minors. No non-consent. No permanent injury. No weapons. No breath deprivation beyond safe limits. No blood play. No public exposure. No scenes under emotional distress.

I exhaled.

He wasn’t reckless.

He was controlled.

Then I saw it.

Not optional. Not implied.

Written. Defined. Required.

My chest ached.

The bath came back to me instantly.

Warm water, his hands steady and careful, the tenderness he tried so hard to bury.

He took care of me.

Even when he pretended he didn’t know how.

Next came the “Soft Limits”

This was where my pulse spiked.

Impact play. Orgasm control. Bondage. Suspension. Sensory deprivation.

“What the hell is impact play…” I muttered.

I opened my laptop.

The explanations were dry.

Medical.

My face still burned.

“No,” I said out loud, slamming the laptop shut when I reached suspension.

I grabbed a pen and crossed it out.

NO.

Orgasm control. I didn’t need Google.

I remembered the hotel.

The way he’d stopped - on purpose.

The way my body shook, suspended on the edge.

My hands covered my face.

“Why do I like this?” I whispered.

The room didn’t answer.

Some lines made my jaw tighten.

“The Submissive shall obey…”

I’m not a thing…Even if… even if I like when he takes control.

I wrote in the margins.

Define “reasonable ”. Right to say no without safewords.

My hand shook - not from fear.

From recognition. This document wasn’t turning me into someone else. It was naming parts of me I’d tried not to look at.

There was no clause for what hurt the most.

I want to touch him.

Not as submission. Not as part of a scene.

As Rain.

I wrote carefully.

Permission to touch outside of scenes. Right to hug. Affection when he initiates it.

And suddenly I understood something terrifying.

I wasn’t reviewing a contract.

I was deciding whether I wanted him in my life for real.

I exhaled and looked away. I was looking in my window. And then it hit me. For this five days I haven’t even texted him. Or call him. But neither did he.

Not because I didn’t want him. Because I wanted him too much.

My phone buzzed on the table. I lifted it and my blood gone completly cold.

He texted me. Phayu messaged me. It was one question.

How is your progress with the agreement?

I didn’t tell him the truth.

Didn’t tell him he lived in my thoughts.

I wrote instead:

It was nice meeting you, Khun Phayu.

And sent it. A test.

Agreement or me.

I set my phone aside, closed the agreement, and carefully slipped it between my papers.

God forbid Sky came back and decided to walk into my room.

I needed to clear my head or at least try.

I went into the bathroom, turned on the shower, and stepped under the warm stream.

I washed myself on autopilot, hands moving out of habit rather than intention.

My thoughts refused to quiet down, circling relentlessly around the agreement, around Phayu, around everything that would change the moment I signed my name.

I didn’t know how much time passed.

When I finally turned the water off, dried myself, and pulled on one of my favorite oversized T-shirts, I was just reaching for the hairdryer when the doorbell rang.

Sky.

Of course.

He must have forgotten his keys again.

I felt irritation spark as I walked toward the door, already talking:

“Sky, how many times do I have to tell you to check whether you—”

I opened the door.

And forgot how to speak.

Phayu stood on my doorstep.

There was a storm in his eyes.

He looked immaculate as always - perfect suit, flawless posture.

But something was off.

Something raw, barely restrained.

He stepped inside without waiting for permission and stopped so close I could feel the heat of his breath.

“It was nice meeting you, Khun Phayu?” he repeated softly.

I swallowed hard.

Damn it.

The plan worked, but not like this.

“I—I didn’t mean it like that,” I said quickly, trying to justify myself, trying to explain.

I didn’t get the chance.

He grabbed my wrist suddenly and pulled me toward my bedroom.

We entered, he shut the door behind us, released my hand and looked at me.

Dominant. Angry. Trying to stay in control.

“Sit,” he ordered, pointing to the bed.

My throat went dry as I obeyed.

I sat down.

I’d crossed a line.

Phayu stood in front of me, removed his jacket, loosened his tie, slowly, deliberately.

“Let me remind you,” he said calmly, “how nice it was.”

I licked my lips.

“P’—”

“Lie down. Hands behind your head.”

My heartbeat thundered in my ears.

I couldn’t run. I couldn’t hide.

So I obeyed.

I lay back and placed my hands behind my head.

Phayu climbed onto the bed.

His tie brushed my skin as he leaned over me, and then -darkness.

The fabric covered my eyes as he tied it firmly around my head.

“P’Phayu - what are you doing? I can’t see—”

“That’s the point,” he whispered against my ear, then bit it lightly.

A sharp breath escaped me.

My entire body erupted in goosebumps.

I heard rustling, and then felt something soft and warm binding my wrists.

My heart raced uncontrollably.

I was already hard, painfully, and embarrassingly close.

He was suddenly very close to my mouth.

Then his whisper:

“You’re completely in my power.”

And then his lips crashed into mine.

The kiss was deep, hungry, desperate - like he’d been starving.

I melted instantly.

God, I missed his lips.

Every nerve in my body responded to him.

When he pulled away, I whimpered without meaning to.

“P’Phayu…”

“Shh,” he murmured. “I didn’t allow you to speak.”

His hands slid to my waist, lifting my shirt.

Cool air brushed my chest and then his warm tongue touched my nipple.

I tried to stay quiet.

I really did.

But the sound that escaped me was half a sob, half a moan.

His mouth moved slowly across my chest, his hands gliding over my thighs - and then his hand wrapped around me.

That broke me.

“P’Phayu—!”

His grip tightened.

“I. Didn’t. Allow. You. To. Speak.”

His hand disappeared.

So did his warmth.

No—

No, no, no—

He wouldn’t leave me like this. He couldn’t.

My legs trembled, my body aching, desperate.

I was on the verge of tears when I felt his hand again, spreading my legs.

Something cold brushed against my hole.

I hissed softly—and then something warm replaced it.

My heart felt like it would explode.

I clenched my bound hands uselessly and then his lips covered mine as he pushed into me in one slow, decisive motion.

I cried out silently.

He swallowed every sound.

He moved slowly, deeply, hitting something inside me over and over until my moans broke free - raw, shaking, on the edge of sobbing.

Every time he moved it touched my bundle of nerves. 

I wanted to hold him.

To touch him.

To anchor myself.

But I couldn’t.

All I could do was take him.

I felt his mouth at my neck, my head falling back instinctively, offering myself completely.

The heat built again - stronger, sharper than before, filling every part of me.

I was going to shatter.

“P’Phi… I—I’m—”

“Cum for me.”

And I broke.

Warmth spilled across my chest, my entire body convulsing with the intensity of it.

Tears burned behind my eyes beneath the blindfold.

I was trying my best to breath through it.

But then, suddenly - emptiness.

I felt him finish too, his breath ragged, his restraint cracking.

He didn’t collapse onto me.

Instead, he carefully untied my wrists.

Loosened the knot at my eyes.

Removed the tie slowly.

Light hurt, but I opened my eyes anyway.

And met his gaze.

Real.

Bare.

Almost pleading.

And something else beneath it.

Something that didn’t want to let go.

Phayu was the first to move.

He reached for a towel, cleaned me gently, methodically - like it mattered.

Then he pulled the blanket over us and gathered me into his arms without a word.

I felt his hand on my back.

Slow. Steady.

“You’re here,” he murmured quietly.

Not a command. A grounding statement.

I nodded against his chest, still trembling.

He pressed a kiss to my hair.

Time passed.

Eventually, we lay side by side in my bed, the room quiet again, the storm inside me finally easing.

I swallowed.

“There are… things I want to change,” I said softly.

Phayu turned his head to look at me.

“In the agreement,” I added.

For a moment, he said nothing.

Then - he smiled.

Not sharp. Not dangerous.

Proud.

“Good,” he said. “Then we’ll discuss them properly.”

“When?” I asked.

He brushed his thumb over my knuckles.

“Tomorrow,” he replied calmly. “A business meeting.”

My heart skipped.

“And Rain,” he added quietly.

“Yes?”

“I’ll be waiting.”

But honestly...Am I ready for this?

Chapter Text

Morning started quietly, but in a strangely chaotic way.

First of all, I couldn’t tell whether what had happened last night was a dream or reality.

When I opened my eyes, Phayu wasn’t there.

Not beside me.

Not even a trace of him.

No sign that he had ever been in this room at all.

I could hear Sky moving around in the kitchen, but I had absolutely no mental or physical strength to do anything even talk to him.

My entire body ached, which was probably the clearest proof that what happened last night had not been a dream.

I carefully sat up and reached for my phone.

There were dozens of notifications from the university group chat, but the ones that made my heart skip were a message from Phayu… and one from my mom.

I decided to start with the more painful one.

Hi, sweetheart. How are you? We haven’t talked in so long. You must be very busy. From what I understand, you’ve just finished your final exams, which means your graduation is coming soon. I really wanted to come and see you in your gown, but I can’t get time off work. Could I hope that you might come and visit me instead?

My throat tightened.

I couldn’t say that my relationship with my mom was bad — it wasn’t.

We loved each other.

But it was… strained.

After my dad left, everything changed.

Mom went back to Korea. I stayed in Thailand because I needed to finish my studies.

Honestly, I didn’t even know if I would stay here after graduation or move to Korea.

And now, with Phayu in my life, my thoughts were a complete mess.

Because… yes, I liked him.

And in some way, I was already starting to fall for him.

The problem was, I didn’t know how much of him I could survive.

The contract. The blue room. His need for control.

But then again… I didn’t even know what a normal relationship was supposed to look like.

I sighed and typed a quick reply.

Hi, Mom! I’m really glad to hear from you. I’m sorry I haven’t called or written — school and work have been absolute chaos lately, haha. It’s okay that you can’t come, I understand that work is important, so please don’t feel guilty! I’ll come visit you for a week after the graduation.

I sent the message and, before opening Phayu’s text so I wouldn’t lose my nerve, I went straight to the airline app  and bought a round-trip ticket to Korea.

I’d tell Phayu later.

A soft knock came from my door.

“Rain, are you still asleep…?” Sky’s voice called.

“No—” I cleared my throat. “Come in.”

Sky stepped into my room.

“You slept really late today. That’s not like you. Are you okay?”

I forced a smile.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just stayed up playing video games. I don’t even remember what time I went to bed.”

“Okay… but if something’s bothering you, you’ll tell me, right?”

I swallowed.

Right now, I couldn’t tell Sky what was happening inside my head.

“Of course. Who else would I tell?” I hesitated, then added, “I bought tickets to Korea. I’m going to visit my mom after graduation.”

Sky smiled brightly.

“That’s wonderful! I hope you get to really rest. I’m leaving too. Prapai and I are going to his house in Phuket. Water, good food, no worries…”

I smiled, genuinely.

I was so happy that Sky had someone who made him glow like this.

“Sky, that’s amazing. I’m really happy for you.”

I hugged him without thinking.

He hugged me back.

“Thanks… and you and Phayu?” he asked. “Wait, does he know you’re going to Korea?”

I shook my head.

“I haven’t told him yet, but I probably will today. We’re meeting after my shift.”

Sky wiggled his eyebrows.

“Romantic dinner?”

I snorted softly.

If a formal business meeting about a Dom/Sub agreement counted as romantic, then sure.

“Yeah… something like that.”

Sky checked the time.

“I should go. Text me when you’ll be home.”

I nodded as he left.

I finally opened Phayu’s message.

Meeting scheduled for 20:30. My driver will pick you up and bring you to the office.

Nothing else.

I exhaled and replied in the same dry style.

OK.

I got out of bed, took a hot shower, and styled my hair. I wasn’t really hungry, so I made myself a light snack, packed my bag, and a few minutes later stepped outside.

I walked to where my car was parked, got in, started the engine, and headed to work.

As much as I loved music, I didn’t turn anything on.

My head was already full of noise.

Tonight’s meeting with Phayu.

Phayu in general.

Everything was circling around him.

I felt good with him. Too good. But at the same time, I wanted more.

I wanted to be with him in a normal way — to touch him, go on dates, watch some stupid drama or a romantic comedy together.

And I knew that wasn’t his style.

So I had to either accept that… or walk away before it was too late. I pushed the thoughts aside and focused on driving.

Work was busy. Too busy.

There were so many customers that Nalin and I didn’t even have time to talk — she barely had time to run out when her shift ended.

By the time I locked the doors, it was already 8:00 p.m.

Across the street, one of Phayu’s cars was waiting.

The driver was clearly there for me.

I rushed through the reports, shut down the shop, and almost ran toward the car. The driver reacted instantly, stepping out and opening the door for me.

I smiled faintly, slid into the back seat, buckled up, and finally allowed myself to breathe.

The car pulled away, heading toward Phayu’s office building.

The ride was smooth, so smooth I almost drifted off.

Then the car jerked slightly and I sat up.

I noticed the driver glancing at me through the rearview mirror.

I cleared my throat.

“Is… everything okay? Did something happen?”

He hesitated, clearly unsure whether he should say anything at all.

Then he spoke.

“Khun Rain, I have worked for Khun Teerapanyakul for a very long time. I was his driver even before he had his own license. I’ve been his personal driver for over ten years.”

My chest tightened.

“Khun is a very serious man,” he continued. “But also incredibly loyal and kind. And most importantly… I have never driven anyone other than him. So I can only assume that you hold a special place in his life. And I hope that he holds one in yours as well.”

I swallowed hard.

So this was what people who knew Phayu saw.

“Yes,” I said quietly. “He’s… special. Thank you for telling me.”

The driver nodded and continued driving.

A few minutes later, we arrived at the company building.

He opened the door and I stepped out, took a deep breath, and went inside.

Phayu’s secretary was already waiting.

“Khun Rain,” she said politely, bowing. “Khun Phayu is expecting you. This way, please.”

We took the elevator to the fiftieth floor.

When the doors opened, massive conference room doors stood in front of me.

The secretary opened them, and I stepped inside.

Phayu stood by the enormous panoramic window, the city spread beneath him like something he had already conquered.

When I entered, he turned slowly, as if he had been expecting me.

God.

When God made this man, He had clearly taken His time.

Perfect. Immaculate. Controlled. And terrifying.

“Rain,” he said, his voice calm but deliberate. “Sit. Please.”

The room didn’t feel like a place where people talked about sex.

Glass walls. A long table polished to a mirror finish. Two cups of coffee already poured.

And between us, like a quiet threat, the same neat folder that had been haunting my apartment for days.

I sat.

Immediately regretted it.

The chair felt too low, too exposed, like the room had already decided who held the upper hand.

“This feels… very corporate,” I muttered, swallowing.

“Contracts usually are.”

“Most contracts don’t include instructions about what someone is allowed to do to my body.”

He didn’t flinch.

If anything, he seemed to lean into the truth of it.

“Which section?”

I flipped a page, trying not to let my hands shake.

My pulse was everywhere — in my wrists, in my throat, in places I refused to think about.

“Orgasm control. For example.”

Silence fell.

Not awkward, but dense.

Like the air itself had thickened.

“In practice,” he said calmly, “it means you may be brought close to release and then denied it.”

Heat rushed up my throat, sharp and humiliating.

“For how long?”

“Minutes. Sometimes hours. Sometimes longer.”

Something twisted inside me — fear and curiosity tangled so tightly I couldn’t separate them.

“You’re enjoying this,” I said dryly.

“I’m answering your question.”

“No, you’re terrifying me politely.”

A flicker crossed his eyes, something dangerously close to a smile.

“You asked for clarity.”

I forced myself to keep reading.

Bondage.

Ropes.

Wrists above my head.

Blindfolds.

Restraints.

The words felt heavier the longer I stared at them. Not because they were shocking — but because part of me was already imagining them.

“And if I panic?”

“Then we stop. Immediately.”

There was no hesitation in his voice. No negotiation.

Strangely, that grounded me more than anything else in the room.

“Safewords?” I asked.

“Red. No questions. No disappointment. Everything ends.”

“And yellow?”

“Slow down. Adjust. Breathe.”

I nodded, committing the words to memory like something sacred.

“You really thought this through,” I murmured.

“I don’t touch people without knowing how to protect them.”

That landed deeper than any of the explicit clauses ever could.

I turned another page.

“So… sex toys.”

“Tools,” he corrected mildly.

“For what, exactly?”

“For control. For sensation. For training your body to respond.”

My skin felt too tight, like the air pressure in the room had changed.

“You make it sound like a science.”

“It is.”

“And this,” I said, pointing to a line. “A vibrating plug. That’s… required?”

He followed my gaze.

“Optional.”

Relief hit me too fast.

“Then I want that removed.”

“Why?”

I tightened my grip on the pen.

“Because I want to choose what enters me. Even if I’m giving you control, I want to keep that.”

A long pause.

Then—

“Accepted.”

Something in my chest loosened.

“Temperature play?”

“You Googled that, didn’t you?”

“I had to,” I blurted.

“Ice. Wax. Controlled sensation. Nothing without consent.”

The words felt less like a trap now and more like a strange map.

Then I stopped.

“This part.” I tapped the page. “Touch restrictions. You don’t let me touch you.”

His gaze sharpened.

“That’s not a rule.”

“Then what is it?”

“A boundary.”

Something about that word made my chest ache.

“I want to negotiate it.”

“How?”

“Outside of scenes. Just… like this.”

I reached out, tentative, and placed my fingers on his wrist.

He didn’t pull away.

His skin was warm.

Solid. Real.

The faint pulse beneath my fingers felt dangerously intimate.

“I don’t want to be powerless with you all the time.”

“You won’t be.”

“But you’ll have so much of me.”

“Only what you give.”

His voice softened.

Just a little.

And that made it far more dangerous than if it had stayed cold.

“You talk like someone who wants to own people.”

“I don’t want to own you.”

“Then what do you want?”

For the first time, he hesitated.

“I want you to choose me.”

That was worse than any command.

“You mean exclusivity?”

“Everything between us stays between us.”

“And you?”

“I don’t share what I choose.”

“That’s not a legal clause.”

“It’s a promise.”

My fingers tightened around his wrist.

“And if I sign this…”

“Then you step into something that will change you.”

“Is that a warning?”

“It’s the truth.”

I closed the folder slowly.

Not yes. Not no. Something trembling in between.

“When you’re ready,” he said quietly, “you won’t be signing paper.”

“Then what will I be signing?”

“Me.”

My breath caught.

He walked me out, down the long silent hallway, all the way to the private elevator that led to the waiting car.

The ride down was suffocating — glass walls, soft lights, the hum of machinery, and Phayu standing so close I could feel the heat of him through my sleeve.

And then -

Something in him broke.

Phayu turned to me, his hand coming to my jaw.

“Rain—”

He didn’t finish.

He kissed me.

Not careful. Not controlled.

Hungry. Desperate. Again, like he’d been holding it back for too long.

His mouth was warm, insistent, stealing my breath.

I gasped into the kiss, my hands rising to grip his blazer without thinking, grounding myself against him.

For a moment, the world disappeared — the building, the contract, the danger.

There was only him and the way he kissed me like he was afraid I would vanish.

The elevator chimed softly.

He pulled back, breathing unevenly, his forehead briefly resting against mine.

“I shouldn’t,” he murmured.

Then he stepped back.

The spell broke.

We walked out together, silent, shaken, toward the waiting car.

The driver opened the door.

Phayu stopped beside me.

“You have time until graduation,” he said quietly. “That’s when I need your answer.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ll be there.”

My heart skipped.

“You don’t go to ceremonies.”

A faint, knowing curve touched his mouth.

“I do when I have to.”

“You graduated from there years ago. That doesn’t mean—”

“I’m also one of the faculty sponsors now.” The words landed slowly.

“So you’ll be sitting out there, watching all of us walk across that stage.”

“Yes.”

My chest tightened.

“You’re making this impossible.”

“No. I’m making it honest.”

He stepped back, giving me space. A choice, not a command.

“That day already means something to you. I’m not stealing it. I’m meeting you there.”

Yes. Or no. Contract… Or nothing.

The door closed behind me. And as the car pulled away, the most frightening thing wasn’t that he would be there.

Chapter Text

The hall was overflowing with voices, light, and anticipation.

Robes brushed against one another with a soft, constant rustle.

Someone laughed a little too loudly, the sound brittle with nerves.

Someone else kept gripping the edge of their diploma as if it might disappear the moment they looked away.

The air itself felt charged — thick with relief, pride, and the quiet terror of standing at the edge of something new.

The time has come to our faculty.

Sky was sitting beside me, and he was clearly nervous.

He kept fidgeting with the sleeve of his robe, fingers twisting the fabric over and over again.

Sky rarely showed his emotions so openly.

He was usually the calm one, the steady presence — but right now it was obvious he was struggling to hold himself together.

We listened to the speeches.

Professors. The rector.

The words blurred together after a while.

Something about perseverance, something about the future — until my attention drifted, unavoidably, to the stage.

And that was when I saw him.

Among the faculty members and other important figures of our department sat Phayu.

He looked… out of place.

Too composed. Too precise. Too real.

Like he belonged to a different world entirely, one that had somehow folded itself into ours for the day.

To say that his gaze found me would be an understatement.

It felt more like he locked onto me.

I felt it in every cell of my body.

That quiet, unwavering attention.

My pulse picked up, my breath shallow despite myself.

The worst part wasn’t that he was there.

It was that I wasn’t ready.

Not today.

I wasn’t ready to give him an answer.

Of course, I leaned toward signing that damn contract.

I wasn’t lying to myself about that.

But something still held me back — some unnamed hesitation I couldn’t yet put into words.

Fear? Instinct? Self-preservation?

I didn’t know.

After the dean finished his speech, he announced that the faculty sponsor would now address the graduates.

Phayu.

I felt the shift immediately.

Hundreds of students straightened, eyes lighting up with sudden interest.

A ripple of curiosity moved through the hall.

No. Stop.

Why was I noticing that?

I wasn’t… jealous.

Probably.

Phayu stood, adjusted his blazer with effortless precision, and walked toward the microphone.

The room fell silent.

“Congratulations on completing a difficult journey,” he began, his voice calm, steady, carrying easily through the hall, “and on the beginning of an even more demanding one.”

He spoke about architecture — about responsibility, precision, discipline.

About understanding boundaries and structure, not just in buildings, but in oneself.

And then—

His gaze lifted.

Found me.

I swallowed as our eyes locked.

“You will only truly understand whether you chose the right path,” he continued, “when you face your first real project. Your first real challenge.”

The words felt directed at me alone.

“Only then,” he said, “will you know whether you are moving in the right direction.”

He spoke briefly about internships, about opportunities within his company, inviting graduates to apply.

Then he stepped away from the microphone.

The hall erupted into applause.

Pen leaned toward me, whispering eagerly,

“God, he’s charming.”

I nearly choked on my own breath, coughing awkwardly as I nodded far too fast.

“Oh—yeah,” I managed. “Charming.”

Sky shot me a sideways look and smirked, clearly about to say something, but the dean cut him off by calling the graduates to the stage.

When my name was announced, the world narrowed to a single line — the stage in front of me.

One step.

Then another.

The dean handed me my diploma — three years of sleepless nights, stress, and tears condensed into a single folder.

I shook hands with the rector, who wished me success.

And then—

Phayu.

When I reached him, he extended his hand.

I placed mine in his.

It was supposed to be a simple, official handshake.

It wasn’t.

His grip tightened just a fraction more than necessary.

He leaned in ever so slightly — close enough that only I could hear him.

“Have you decided?” he asked quietly.

My heart jumped into my throat.

“Not yet,” I replied, just as softly.

For a split second, something flickered in his eyes.

Not disappointment, not quite — more like tension he was no longer willing to hide.

“Then at least try,” he said. “You don’t have to sign anything. Just… try.”

I don’t know why the answer left me so quickly.

Why I didn’t overthink it.

Why I didn’t hesitate. Why I wasn’t afraid.

“Okay.”

He froze.

Only for a moment, but I saw it.

Phayu, who always had control, was… pleasantly stunned.

“Okay?” he repeated.

I nodded, smiled, and walked off the stage, my knees trembling beneath me.

The applause followed somewhere far behind, distant and unreal — like all of this was happening to someone else entirely.

And yet, nothing had ever felt more real.

Some time later, after the last student had crossed the stage and received their diploma, the ceremony dissolved into celebration.

The banquet was loud — almost overwhelming.

Glasses clinked constantly, laughter spilled over itself, someone had already loosened their tie, someone else was taking far too many photos as if afraid the night might slip away if not documented properly.

I was seated at a table with Sig, Pen, and Por.

They were deep in animated discussion, voices overlapping as they debated the chances of applying for an internship at Phayu’s company, what paths they might take next, how soon we should all meet again now that university was officially behind us.

I listened.

Mostly, I just listened.

My mind was still stuck on one simple word.

Okay.

I still couldn’t fully process the fact that I’d said it.

That I’d agreed.

Not to the contract, not yet — but to trying. To stepping into something unknown without the safety net of a signature.

Strangely, that made it easier to breathe.

At least this way, I would understand what it meant before deciding whether I could truly handle it.

“Rain, why do you look so miserable?” Sig asked suddenly. “Are you even with us?”

I looked up sharply, startled.

“Oh yeah,” I said quickly. “Sorry. It’s just… all this noise. I think my head’s starting to ache. I’ll be right back.”

Before anyone could protest, I stood and made my way toward the far end of the room, where a quieter table held rows of drinks.

I closed my eyes for a moment and took a slow, grounding breath.

That was when I felt him.

I sensed his presence before I heard his voice.

“You disappeared,” Phayu said quietly behind me.

I turned.

“I needed a moment,” I replied.

“To breathe.”

He nodded, as if he understood exactly what I meant.

We stood side by side.

Not touching, but close enough that the space between us felt deliberate.

Then—

“Khun Phayu!” a voice called out. “Thailand News. May we take a photo for the article?”

The photographer was already approaching, camera raised.

“Of course,” Phayu replied smoothly.

A pause.

“But not alone.”

Before I could react, his hand settled at my waist.

Confident. Possessive. Not rough, unmistakable.

I froze, my breath catching as the simple contact sent heat racing through me.

“Perfect,” the photographer said. “Just like that.”

The flash went off, blinding for a split second.

Even after Phayu removed his hand, I could still feel the warmth of his palm lingering on my skin.

When the photographer left, I turned on him immediately.

“What was that?” I demanded in a low voice. “Why would you do that?”

Phayu lifted his glass, taking a slow sip of wine, a knowing smile playing at his lips.

“Well,” he said calmly, “you agreed to a trial period.”

My pulse spiked.

“I’m showing you what it means to belong to me,” he continued. “Not just privately. Publicly. I don’t hide what’s mine.”

I scoffed, though my heart was pounding.

“Then why have I never seen photos of you with anyone else?”

He looked at me, eyes narrowing slightly.

“Were you looking?”

I lifted my chin, clasping my hands behind my back.

“Well… yes. For research purposes. When I was looking into you before the interview.”

“That was different,” he said quietly.

I frowned. “Different how?”

He opened his mouth to answer—

And then Sky collided into me at full speed.

“We’re leaving!” Sky announced brightly, clearly tipsy, grinning from ear to ear. Prapai followed behind him, relaxed and amused. “Right now.”

I laughed and wrapped Sky in a tight hug — real, grounding.

“Call me,” I whispered. “I’ll be waiting. And—” I pulled back just enough to look at him seriously. “Behave.”

Then I turned my gaze to Prapai.

“If anything happens to him,” I said evenly, “I will find you. Wherever you are. And you won’t enjoy it.”

Prapai laughed easily.

“I see spending time with my brother is rubbing off on you.”

Phayu shot him a sharp look.

Prapai rolled his eyes and met my gaze again.

“I won’t ever hurt him,” he said sincerely. “And if anyone tries to ruin his night, they’ll have to deal with me first.”

Sky’s eyes practically sparkled.

I exhaled slowly.

“Okay,” I said. “I believe you.”

Sky hugged me again and whispered in my ear, “You be careful too, alright?”

I nodded and let him go.

I watched as they walked away, their figures slowly disappearing into the crowd.

Then Phayu gently took my hand.

“It's late,” he said quietly. “Come. I’ll take you home.”

I hesitated for only a second.

“Okay.”

And just like that, the night shifted again.

The drive back didn’t take long.

We didn’t talk.

Not because there was nothing to say, but because saying anything felt unnecessary.

The silence between us wasn’t awkward or strained.

It didn’t press in on me or make my thoughts race.

It was calm. Steady. Almost protective.

I let my head fall back against the seat, eyes half-closed, watching the city lights smear into soft lines through the window.

For the first time in days — maybe weeks, I allowed myself to stop replaying every decision, every word, every what if.

I didn’t think about the contract. Or the graduation stage. Or the way his hand had felt at my waist earlier that evening.

I just breathed.

When the car finally stopped in front of my building, I didn’t move.

The engine idled quietly.

The night pressed in gently from the outside.

I stayed where I was, hands resting loosely in my lap, heart beating a little too loudly in my chest.

I didn’t want him to leave. The realization startled me with its simplicity.

“I…” I began, then stopped, drawing in a slow breath. “Do you want to come in?”

I kept my eyes forward, fixed on the dark entrance of the building.

“Just for a drink,” I added quickly. “A glass of champagne. To celebrate. Nothing more.”

The words nothing more felt fragile, like they might shatter if either of us leaned too hard on them.

I felt his gaze before I heard his answer.

“If you’re sure,” Phayu said quietly.

There was no pressure in his voice. No assumption.

I turned my head slightly and nodded.

“I am.”

We stepped out of the car together.

The night air was cooler than I expected, grounding.

The elevator ride up passed in silence again, but it felt different now — thicker, weighted with something unspoken.

The small space amplified every movement, every shift of breath.

I was acutely aware of how close he stood, even without touching me.

I unlocked the apartment door and stepped inside.

Home.

I kicked off my shoes and loosened my tie, suddenly hyperaware of how formal I still looked.

Phayu followed me in, closed the door softly, and didn’t move.

He watched me, attentive, observant, as if memorizing the way I existed when no one was watching.

I went to the kitchen, opened the fridge, and took out the bottle of champagne I’d been saving for no real reason.

From the cabinet above, I grabbed two glasses.

“This probably isn’t what you’re used to,” I said, glancing at him as I set the bottle on the counter. “But it’s all I’ve got.”

It sounded smaller out loud than it had in my head.

Like an apology I hadn’t meant to make.

Phayu stepped closer without a word and gently took the bottle from my hands.

His fingers brushed mine — light, unhurried.

I had the absurd thought that he did everything like this, as if even the smallest gesture deserved intention.

“Your company,” he said, meeting my eyes, “will make this the most expensive champagne I’ve had all week.”

I let out a quiet, disbelieving laugh.

“That’s not how that works.”

“It is tonight.”

There was no arrogance in his voice. Just certainty.

“Sit,” he added gently, not as an order but as an invitation.

I did.

We sat at the small kitchen table, close enough that our knees almost touched.

The space between us felt deliberate, fragile — something neither of us wanted to disturb too suddenly.

He opened the bottle, the cork releasing with a soft hiss instead of a pop, and poured slowly, carefully, like there was nowhere else he needed to be.

Like this moment mattered.

We drank in silence for a while.

The champagne was cold and sharp, grounding.

I focused on the bubbles rising in my glass, on the way the noise of the day seemed to fade the longer we sat there.

Then—

“May I ask you something?” he said.

“Of course.”

“Why weren’t your parents there today?”

The question caught me off guard.

I lowered my gaze to my glass.

“I don’t speak to my father,” I said quietly.

I waited for the shift, the discomfort, the polite sympathy people usually reached for when they didn’t know what else to do.

It didn’t come.

“My mom lives in Korea,” I added after a moment. “She couldn’t come. Distance. Work. Life.”

He nodded once.

No judgment. No pity.

No attempt to fix something that wasn’t his to fix.

“Thank you for telling me,” he said simply.

Something in my chest loosened, just a little.

I took a deeper breath, gathering myself.

“About the trial period,” I said after a pause. “What… what am I supposed to do?”

He didn’t answer immediately. He watched me for a moment, like he was weighing something carefully.

“For now,” he said, “pack a bag.”

I looked up sharply.

“What?”

“You’ll spend the weekend with me,” he explained, calm and steady.

I searched his face, looking for the catch.

“Just being near each other,” he added. “Seeing how it feels.”

“And if I hate it?” I asked.

“Then you walk away.”

“And if I don’t?”

His gaze softened, something warm and unguarded flickering beneath the surface.

“Then we’ll talk.”

He reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and placed a small box on the table between us.

“This is for you.”

I frowned at it.

“For what?”

“For tonight,” he said quietly. “For finishing something difficult. For choosing yourself.”

I opened the box.

And froze.

A watch.

Sleek. Elegant. Minimal.

Prada — unmistakably so.

My breath left me all at once.

“Phayu,” I said immediately, pushing the box back toward him. “I can’t accept this. It costs more than our apartment.”

“This isn’t payment,” he said firmly.

“Then what is it?”

“A gift,” he replied. “And you deserve it.”

I shook my head, overwhelmed.

“You don’t buy people like this.”

“I’m not buying you.”

“Then why—?”

“Because I wanted to mark this moment,” he said quietly. “Whether you stay or not.”

That stopped me.

I stared at the box again, my pulse loud in my ears.

I wasn’t used to being given things without strings.

Without conditions. Without the quiet expectation of something owed in return.

Slowly, carefully, I closed the box.

“…Thank you,” I said, my voice softer than I meant it to be.

His smile was small. Real. Almost relieved.

And suddenly, terrifyingly, I understood how far in I already was.

Not because of the contract. Not because of the gift.

But because he had given me space to choose.

And I was still here.

Still sitting across from him. Still listening. Still wanting to stay.

Morning came too fast.

One moment I was lying in my own bed, staring at the ceiling and trying to convince myself that agreeing to a “trial period” didn’t mean I had officially lost my mind— and the next, my phone lit up with a polite message from Phayu’s number:

“Driver is downstairs.”

Of course he was.

I stood in front of my closet for a full minute, frozen with my duffel bag half-open like it could swallow me if I hesitated long enough.

The whole thing felt surreal. Like I’d stepped out of my life and into someone else’s—someone cleaner, sharper, more expensive.

I forced a breath into my lungs, grabbed my bag, and walked downstairs before I could talk myself out of it.

The car waiting by the curb was black, perfectly polished, and so quiet it felt like it wasn’t even running.

The driver stepped out immediately, opening the back door with the kind of precision that made my shoulders tense.

I realized it wasn’t the driver I usually rode with.

“Khun Rain?” he asked, polite, careful.

I nodded, trying to smile like I was normal and did this every weekend.

“That’s me.”

“Good morning. I’m Somchai.”

“Hi,” I said, and then—because my brain was determined to be a disaster—added,

“Your car is… very shiny.”

Somchai’s expression flickered.

Not quite a smile. Not quite confusion. Something in between.

“Thank you, Khun. Please, sit comfortably.”

I slid into the back seat and hugged my duffel bag to my chest like it might protect me from the fact that I was about to spend the weekend in the home of the most intimidating man I’d ever met.

The ride was smooth.

Too smooth.

Bangkok rushed by outside the tinted windows, all noise and color, while inside the car everything was muted.

Cool air, faint leather scent, the soft hum of a world where nothing ever went wrong.

Somchai glanced at me in the rearview mirror.

“Is the temperature comfortable?”

“Yes,” I said quickly. “Perfect. Thank you.”

Another pause, and then, surprisingly gentle:

“Khun Phayu will arrive later. He had an early meeting.”

I swallowed. “Right. Of course.”

Somchai nodded as if this was the most normal thing in the world.

As if people did not, in fact, sign legal documents about their private lives and then get chauffeured to a mansion like it was a weekend getaway.

I stared out the window and tried to breathe.

By the time we reached the gate, my palms were damp.

The security recognized the car instantly; the barrier lifted, the gates slid open, and we rolled inside like we belonged.

The house looked different in daylight.

At night it had felt like a fortress—dark glass and sharp lines, unapproachable elegance.

In the morning, the same architecture was almost… breathtaking.

The clean geometry caught the sun like it was designed to reflect power back into the world.

The house didn’t just sit on the property.

It owned it.

Somchai parked near the garage and stepped around to open my door.

“Welcome, khun Rain.”

I climbed out slowly, tilting my head up, and for a second I forgot to be nervous.

Inside, the air was cool and still.

The house wasn’t silent in an empty way.

More like it was waiting.

Like it didn’t want to move without permission.

A woman met us near the entrance. She was older than me, maybe in her fifties, with neat hair and calm eyes that somehow made the whole space feel warmer.

“Khun Rain?” she asked gently.

I nodded again. “Yes. Hi.”

“I’m Mali,” she said. “I take care of the house.”

“Oh!” I quickly adjusted my grip on the duffel bag, suddenly aware I was standing in her beautiful foyer like a confused raccoon who had wandered inside by accident.

“Nice to meet you, P'Mali. Thank you for… everything.”

Her mouth curved into a real smile, and relief loosened something in my chest.

“You are very polite,” she said. “Please, come. I’ll show you your room.”

We walked upstairs.

My footsteps soft on the dark wood, my bag bumping against my hip.

Every corridor felt deliberate, like the house had been designed to direct people exactly where Phayu wanted them to go.

It was beautiful, but it also made me feel small. Like I needed to speak quietly so the walls wouldn’t judge me.

Mali opened a door and stepped aside.

“This is yours.”

The room was bright.

Bigger than my entire bedroom back home.

A wide window looked out over the garden, sunlight spilling across a perfectly made bed.

There was a small desk, a sitting chair, a wardrobe so large it felt like it belonged to someone who owned more than three pairs of jeans.

I stood in the doorway, blinking.

“This is…” I started, then stopped because I didn’t know which word to choose—ridiculous, amazing, terrifying.

Mali watched me with gentle patience.

“It is comfortable,” she said. “Khun Phayu arranged it.”

Of course he did.

I set my duffel bag on the bed and unzipped it, the sound too loud in the clean quiet.

For a moment I just stared at my clothes.

T-shirts, a hoodie, a couple of pairs of jeans.

Things that looked painfully ordinary against the luxury around me.

Like I’d brought a handful of street pebbles into a museum.

I started unpacking anyway, because if I stopped, I might run.

I folded each shirt carefully, placing them in the wardrobe as if neatness could earn me a place here.

I lined up my toiletries on the bathroom counter.

My cheap shampoo beside high-end bottles that smelled like some expensive hotel I could never afford.

I placed my phone charger on the bedside table with strange seriousness, like it was a ritual.

When I was done, the room looked… slightly more mine. Not much. But enough to keep me grounded.

Mali lingered in the doorway.

“If you need anything, Khun, please tell me,” she said gently.

“Thank you,” I replied — and then hesitated, the question slipping out.

“Can I ask you something? I was here before, but I didn’t see you then.”

She smiled, understanding immediately.

“Ah. That day, Khun Phayu gave me the evening off,” she explained calmly. “He doesn’t do that often.”

I blinked.

“Oh.”

That… explained more than it probably should have.

I glanced around the room again, at the clean lines, the quiet, the way the house felt like it was holding its breath.

“It’s still unreal,” I said softly. “Like the house is too perfect to exist properly.”

Mali let out a quiet chuckle.

“Yes. Many people say that.”

“I think I was breathing very carefully last time,” I admitted, rubbing the back of my neck.

Her gaze softened, almost fond.

“You may breathe normally here, Khun Rain,” she said. “The house will not break.”

Something warm settled in my chest at that.

“I’ll try,” I smiled.

When she left, I stood there for a moment, hands on my hips, trying to decide what to do with myself in a house that felt like it could swallow me whole.

And then my stomach growled.

Right. Food. Normal human behavior.

Something I could control.

I went downstairs, following memory more than confidence, and found Mali in the kitchen.

The kitchen was immaculate. As huge as I remember.

Wide counters, sleek appliances, everything arranged with the same clean precision as the rest of the house.

Mali looked up. “Are you hungry, Khun?”

“Yes,” I said immediately, then softened my tone.

“But—um. I wanted to ask something.”

“Yes?”

I cleared my throat. “Can I… cook?”

She blinked. “Cook?”

“Yes,” I said, and waved my hands as if that explained everything. “I mean—if that’s okay. I know you probably do it, and I don’t want to mess anything up, but cooking makes me feel… normal. And I want to do something. I can’t just sit here like a decorative pillow.”

Mali stared for a second, then her smile broke wider.

“Decorative pillow,” she repeated, amused.

I nodded solemnly. “The most nervous decorative pillow.”

She laughed. Really laughed. And something in my chest loosened again.

“You may cook,” she said warmly. “Khun Phayu will not mind.”

“You’re sure?”

“He likes control,” she said, still smiling, “but he also likes sincerity.”

That made my cheeks go hot in a way I pretended not to notice.

“Okay,” I said, clapping my hands once like I was starting a mission. “Great. I’ll make something simple. Something… safe.”

Mali stepped to the side, giving me space without making me feel like an intruder.

“What will you cook?”

“Um.” I looked around the kitchen like the answer might be hidden in the cabinets. “Maybe garlic fried rice? And soup? Or… pasta? Does he eat pasta? Rich people eat pasta too, right?”

Mali’s shoulders shook with another small laugh.

“He eats,” she assured me. “And he will eat whatever you make.”

The fact that she said it so confidently made my heart do something stupid and soft.

I found ingredients.

Perfectly stocked pantry, fresh vegetables, herbs that smelled like summer.

I moved carefully at first, afraid of scratching something or breaking a rule I didn’t know existed.

But the longer I chopped and stirred, the more my body remembered itself.

Cooking didn’t care who I was with.

Cooking didn’t care about agreements.

It was just heat, motion, smell, and time.

I put on quiet music from my phone, low enough that it wouldn’t echo through the house like an announcement.

Something soft. Something gentle.

The kind of sound that made the silence less intimidating.

As I cooked, my thoughts tried to creep back in.

Phayu’s voice in that glass-walled meeting room, the weight of his gaze, the way he had said choose me like it was more dangerous than any command.

I pushed the thoughts away with the back of my wrist and focused on the pan.

Rice sizzling. Garlic blooming. Vegetables softening. Soup simmering in a pot like a promise.

By the time the food was ready, the kitchen smelled like comfort.

Like home.

Which was absurd, because nothing about this place was mine.

I set the table in the dining area. two plates, two glasses, water, napkins folded neatly because I didn’t know what else to do with my hands.

Then I waited.

The sound of the front door opening made me jump so hard I nearly dropped the serving spoon.

I turned too fast, heart slamming into my ribs.

Phayu walked in like he belonged to the air itself. No jacket, sleeves rolled to his forearms, loosened tie. His hair was slightly less perfect than usual, which somehow made him more dangerous.

His gaze swept the room once. Quick, assessing - and then landed on me.

The entire house felt like it inhaled.

“Hi,” I said stupidly, because my brain always turned to soup when he showed up.

Phayu’s eyes flicked over me. My simple clothes, my hair probably still a little messy, and something in his expression softened. Just barely.

“You cooked,” he said, as if he needed to confirm it was real. “Again”

“I did,” I replied, suddenly shy. “I hope that’s okay. Mali said you wouldn’t mind.”

Mali appeared like a silent blessing in the doorway, smiling.

Phayu’s mouth twitched at the corner.

“You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to,” I said quietly. “It felt… right.”

For a moment he just looked at me.

Then, very calmly:

“Thank you.”

Two words. Simple. But coming from him, they hit like something intimate.

We ate.

The dinner wasn’t extravagant.

It wasn’t fancy.

It was warm and ordinary and real.

Something that didn’t match the house at all, and yet, somehow, it made the space feel less hostile.

Phayu didn’t talk much at first, but he didn’t feel distant either.

He listened.

He asked small questions—how my day had been, if the room was comfortable, if I needed anything.

Like he was trying to learn how to exist beside me without pushing too hard.

It made my chest ache in a way I didn’t have words for.

After dinner, I started clearing plates instinctively, but Phayu stopped me with a quiet:

“Leave it.”

I hesitated. “I can help.”

“I know,” he said, and his voice held something almost gentle. “But not this.”

The way he said it wasn’t a command.

It was… a boundary.

And somehow, I understood.

He set his glass down and looked at me across the table.

“Rain.”

My heartbeat picked up again.

“Yes?”

He paused—just a fraction, like he was choosing his words with the same precision he designed houses.

“Come with me,” he said.

My throat went dry.

I didn’t need to ask where.

The hallway upstairs, darker than the rest of the house. The door without a handle. The blue that lived behind it.

I stood slowly, trying to keep my hands from shaking.

Phayu moved first, not rushing me, not grabbing me. Just walking—steady, controlled, like he was giving me the chance to change my mind at any point.

We reached the top floor. The corridor shifted around us, quieter, heavier.

He stopped at the door.

Turned to me.

“You can say no,” he reminded me softly. “Even now.”

I swallowed hard. My pulse was loud.

“I know,” I whispered.

“And?”

I looked at the door. Then at him.

And for all my fear, for all the uncertainty, one thing was painfully clear.

I wasn’t here by mistake.

“I’m coming,” I said.

Phayu’s gaze darkened. Something like relief, something like hunger, something like restraint.

He lifted his hand.

Pressed the metal plate.

The lock clicked.

The door slid open.

Blue darkness breathed out.

Chapter Text

We stepped into the blue room, and my heartbeat immediately spiked.

The lights came on. Dim, soft — bathing everything in a muted glow. I saw it again: the massive bed, the cabinets, the shelves. My breath left me in a slow exhale.

There was no turning back. I knew that now. I was entirely in Phayu’s hands.

I felt him behind me before I heard him. His arms wrapped around my waist, firm and possessive. Goosebumps rippled over my skin instantly. His breath brushed my neck, hot and deliberate, and when he spoke, his whisper was so low it resonated straight through my chest.

“Do you remember your safewords?”

His voice was darker than I’d ever heard it before.

The words lodged in my throat. I could only nod.

“I need you to say it,” Phayu added quietly.

I gathered what little courage I had left, turned to face him, and looked him straight in the eyes.

“Yes, Phi” I said softly. “I remember my safewords.”

“Very good.”

He stepped back and began rolling up the sleeves of his shirt with infuriating calm.

“Take off your clothes,” he said quietly.

I swallowed hard.

My hands trembled as I pulled off my shirt, folding it carefully and placing it on the chair beside the bed. I slipped out of my jeans, leaving myself in nothing but my boxers.

Phayu loosened the top buttons of his shirt and let his gaze drop.

“Them too,” he said. “Stop being shy. I’ve already seen everything.”

Of course he had. That thought didn’t make it any easier.

I nodded and pushed my boxers down, stepping out of them.

It felt strange. Exposed. But somehow, impossibly, I also felt calm. Nervous and steady at the same time, if that made any sense at all.

Phayu smiled. His eyes darkened, and I couldn’t miss the way his arousal pressed against his trousers.

Was I really affecting him that much?

He lifted his gaze and stepped closer.

“Kneel.”

My breath caught.

Why? For what? But no words came.

I lowered myself carefully onto my knees in front of him, folding my hands together. It felt unreal. Submissive in a way I didn’t fully understand yet. I knew that right now, I belonged entirely to him.

I just wasn’t sure yet whether I liked that.

Phayu placed his hand under my chin and lifted my face until our eyes met. I licked my lips without meaning to.

“Are you scared?” he asked.

I thought about it.

Was I scared? Did I want to run, go home, pretend none of this was happening and then miss him unbearably afterward? If I said yes, he would let me go. I hadn’t signed anything. I was here only because I wanted to be. He wasn’t forcing me. This question alone proved that.

No. I wasn’t scared. It was just… new.

I shook my head, never breaking eye contact.

“No, Phi… I’m not scared.”

He smiled and nodded.

“Good,” he murmured. “Good boy.”

Something inside me lit up at those words.

“Lie down,” he said. “On your back.”

I rose, climbed onto the bed, and lay down as instructed.

Phayu followed, securing my wrists above my head. The lock clicked.

Then he moved to my legs and did the same, fastening my ankles apart.

I was completely restrained.

Naked. Exposed. Helpless.

And somehow… safe.

If I didn’t trust him, I wouldn’t be lying here like this. I knew that.

Phayu opened one of the cabinets and removed a silk blindfold. He came back and looked into my eyes.

“If you feel uncomfortable, scared, or overwhelmed,” he said calmly, “you say your safeword immediately. Do you understand?”

I wanted to nod, but I knew he wouldn’t accept that.

“Yes, P'Phayu,” I said. “I understand.”

He tied the blindfold over my eyes.

Darkness swallowed me whole. Every other sensation sharpened instantly.

I remembered that night in my room. The one I still couldn’t tell whether it had been real or a dream. I desperately hoped it had been real.

I heard him placing something on the bedside table.

Metal. A soft clink. Ice?

I licked my lips, anticipation coiling low in my body. Then I felt his weight above me.

His hands traced slowly along my waist, then slid down the inside of my thighs. I gasped and gripped the leather restraints instinctively.

I heard him reach for the dish again. The unmistakable sound of ice shifting.

I swallowed, breath shallow.

Then—

Cold.

Ice pressed against my nipple.

“Ah—!”

I couldn’t stop myself.

“Shhh,” Phayu murmured. “Do you want me to stop?”

Before I could answer, his tongue followed — hot, wet, deliberate.

The contrast was overwhelming. Every nerve in my body lit up at once. I arched my back, pulled against the restraints, my head falling to the side.

“N-no… don’t stop,” I breathed.

He repeated the sensation on my other nipple — ice circling, mouth claiming. I bit my lip hard, trying not to make noise.

Then his mouth left me. Cold again. Then heat.

I couldn’t hold back anymore.

“Ah— mm—”

“Good boy,” he murmured. “Don’t hold back.”

“I— I feel so good, P'Phayu…”

He didn’t answer.

The sensations vanished for a moment. Then I felt ice glide down my stomach, followed by the warmth of his breath.

Slow. Deliberate. Closer.

My nipples throbbed. My body strained. My cock pulsed painfully.

I tried to close my legs — failed.

Then—

“Ah!”

Ice brushed my groin.

My body reacted instantly.

And then his mouth closed around me.

I moaned. Quietly, helplessly. As pleasure crashed through me. His mouth was hot, wet, just cool enough to drive me insane. His tongue traced slow, deliberate patterns around the head of my cock.

I was so close. Too close.

His fingers pinched one of my sensitive nipples, and I gasped.

“Phi… P'Phayu… it feels so good…”

He didn’t stop.

My entire body tensed, every nerve screaming.

“Phi—!”

That was all I managed before orgasm tore through me completely.

My thoughts shattered. My breath came in ragged gasps. I couldn’t even inhale properly — all I could think about was how badly I wanted him inside me.

Only then did I realize his mouth was gone.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked softly. His voice strained, restrained.

I shook my head frantically.

“N-no… please don’t stop. I can take it…”

And the darkness waited.

After a moment, I felt Phayu move away from the bed again.

I heard him open another cabinet.

It was embarrassing to admit it, but I felt myself starting to harden again. Even though I had just come. My body was still too sensitive, too aware of him, too responsive.

I heard him return to the bed and unfasten the restraints around my ankles.

“Bend your knees,” he instructed.

I felt sluggish, hazy, but I obeyed. He fixed my legs in that position and slid something beneath my hips, lifting me slightly.

Now I was completely open to him.

Exposed.

I felt something cool, metallic - trail along my thigh.

I swallowed.

Then I heard a soft click. The object began to vibrate in his hand.

A vibrator.

My breath hitched.

That was the one thing I had tried to remove from the agreement. The one thing I’d asked him to cross out. So why was he holding it now? Then again… I hadn’t signed anything.

Neither of us had.

I felt him settle between my legs.

“You’re still okay with this?” he asked quietly, pressing a kiss to the inside of my thigh.

I swallowed hard.

“N–no… I mean— yes. I’m okay,” I said, my voice trembling despite myself.

I felt his cold, slick finger brush against my entrance.

Goosebumps erupted over my skin instantly. I bit down on my lip.

“Take a deep breath,” Phayu commanded, his voice low and steady.

I inhaled. And as I exhaled, I felt his finger slide inside me.

I moaned loudly, unable to stop myself.

It was unfamiliar — but not painful. Just… full. Intimate. Almost overwhelming in the best way.

“Good boy,” he murmured.

He began to move his finger, stretching me slowly. I tried to restrain myself, tried to keep quiet, but it felt too good. My voice betrayed me again and again.

I couldn’t see anything. The darkness swallowed me. All I had were sensations.

Then I felt a second finger join the first.

I clenched the restraints and arched my back slightly, a tremor running through my legs. I was still incredibly sensitive from before,  painfully aware of every touch.

“Oh— oh God, yes… don’t stop,” I gasped.

Then his fingers curled. Right there.

My entire body jolted as if struck by electricity. I bit my lip hard, tasting metal, but I didn’t care. Pleasure flooded through me, blinding and intense.

And then—

Nothing.

Sudden emptiness. No fingers.

“No…wait...what…?” I breathed, panic flickering.

I felt Phayu shift, then suddenly his hot breath was against my lips.

Something cold and slick pressed against my entrance.

The vibrator.

Before I could react, his mouth claimed mine.

He kissed me deeply, hungrily, tongue invading my mouth as he tasted me, dominated my breath. The metallic taste was still there — sharp, grounding.

Then, abruptly, the vibrator slid inside me.

It turned on instantly.

I moaned into his mouth as the vibrations hit my prostate directly.

“Mmm—!”

The sound was loud.  Far louder than I meant it to be. If his mouth hadn’t been there, I’m sure it would’ve echoed through the room.

He pulled back, and I completely lost control.

“A—ah! Phi— Phayu—”

He started thrusting the vibrator into me.

Hard. Fast. Relentless.

I squeezed my eyes shut, tears gathering at the corners. My entire body burned, shook, trembled. If I hadn’t been restrained, I would’ve completely fallen apart.

My head fell back, my neck exposed, offered.

I moaned openly now. Loud, broken, unashamed.

I felt my cock growing heavier, hotter against my stomach, swelling with each second.

I couldn’t think. I couldn’t breathe properly. I was right on the edge again. My body wasn’t mine anymore.

Phayu’s lips latched onto my neck, kissing, licking, biting lightly, never stopping the brutal rhythm of the vibrator. He hit that spot again and again, perfectly, mercilessly.

I knew I was seconds away from breaking.

Then his mouth moved behind my ear.

“A—ah—!”

The sound tore out of me.

The orgasm hit me with devastating force.

My back arched violently, my body shaking uncontrollably as pleasure exploded through me. I cried out as my cock spilled over my stomach — untouched, completely overwhelmed.

The intensity slowly faded.

I couldn’t catch my breath. The room felt too small, the air too thin. I gasped desperately, my legs going slack, trembling without control.

I babbled something incoherent, words dissolving into sound. Then I felt emptiness again.

Phayu removed the vibrator.

My body clenched around nothing.

A second later, I felt his hands at my head. He untied the blindfold.

I squinted before opening my eyes.

Phayu was above me.

God.

His eyes were burning. His cheeks flushed. He looked like he was the one barely holding himself together.

The way he looked at me—

I didn’t believe anyone had ever looked at me like that before.

My throat tightened unexpectedly. Emotion swelled, sharp and overwhelming.

He brushed his thumb gently beneath my eyes, wiping away moisture I hadn’t realized was there, and leaned closer.

“Rain,” he murmured, “you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Never forget that ”

I swallowed.

I wanted to answer. To say something. Anything. I couldn’t. My body wouldn’t let me.

But I knew this wasn’t over.

Phayu climbed off the bed and returned with a glass and a bottle of water. He poured it, sat beside me, lifted my head slightly, and pressed the glass to my lips.

“Drink all of it,” he said quietly, his voice strained despite himself.

I obeyed instantly, drinking greedily. The water grounded me, steadied me. When I finished, he set the glass aside.

I looked at him.

His pants were undone. His cock was painfully hard. Far more than before. This wasn’t like the first time. This was deeper. More urgent.

He wiped my stomach clean with tissues, then looked directly into my eyes.

“Do we continue?”

He was waiting for the color.

I was exhausted. Wrecked, spent, trembling. I had come twice already and wasn’t sure how much more I could take. Part of me wanted to curl up against him and sleep.

But another part…Another part wanted him inside me desperately.

Just the thought made heat bloom again.

I nodded weakly and met his gaze.

“Green.”

That was all he needed.

He stripped off his shirt and pants in one swift motion.

He carefully placed his clothes on the chair, then stepped out of his boxers.

I swallowed.

My mouth filled with saliva at the sight of him.

He was hard. Painfully so. Thick, flushed, beautiful. I lifted my gaze to his face and caught the unmistakable smirk there. He moved closer slowly, deliberately. My knees drew in on instinct.

Despite my exhaustion, I could feel myself growing hard again. Everything inside me pulsed, unbearably intense. I bit my lip, hoping, desperately, that he wouldn’t blindfold me again.

I wanted to see him. To see how much he wanted me.

I was allowed that, wasn’t I?

Phayu sat down on the bed between my legs. He rolled the condom on, then slicked himself with lube, unhurried. He leaned over me, eyes locked on mine.

“I want to see,” he murmured.

He pushed into me.

My vision threatened to roll back, but I forced myself to stay present — because he wouldn’t let me look away.

“I want to see,” he continued, sinking deeper, and a broken, ragged sound tore out of me as I arched. “How you look when I’m inside you.”

He began to thrust, and I bit my lip hard.

God. It was overwhelming. Too good. Too intense.

“I want you to understand,” he said, voice low and rough, “that no one will ever make you feel like this.”

He hit my prostate and I cried out.

“Phi—!”

“Because this good,” he continued, relentless, “you’ll only ever feel with me. You’re mine. And I want you to remember every second.”

He crashed his mouth onto mine, kissing me like he’d been starving for years. I moaned into his mouth, clutched uselessly at the restraints still holding my wrists.

I tried to wrap my legs around his waist, but he broke the kiss, lifted my legs, draped them over his shoulders, and thrust harder.

“Oh…. God— I— Phayu…P’Phayu— ah!”

He went impossibly deep. Everything burned. My body, my thoughts, my breath. He kissed my ankle and I couldn’t stop watching him.

He was beautiful.

Strands of his hair clung to his flushed, damp face. His eyes were black — completely, and he never stopped looking at me. At my face. My body. The way my skin was already red and overheated.

His hands gripped my thighs, holding me in place.

I couldn’t hold back anymore. I squeezed my eyes shut.

Then pain bloomed. Sharp, electric — as his fingers suddenly pinched my swollen, sensitive nipples.

I cried out and opened my eyes in shock. He was smiling. Like a cat.

“I didn’t give you permission to close your eyes,” he said softly. “That’s why I took the blindfold off.”

“I— ah— I’m sorry—!”

He tightened his grip on my nipples.

My body tensed again, impossibly. I didn’t know how I still had strength left. I felt overheated and cold all at once. Thirsty and overwhelmed. My emotions were past their limit. I was going to shatter.

I saw it in his face too.

He was barely holding on.

My cock throbbed violently. I threw my head back, my moans filling the room along with his ragged breathing. The air felt charged, almost unbearable. My throat burned from the sounds I was making.

I bit into my own hand, desperate to anchor myself.

He thrust harder.

My nipples, trapped in his fingers, sent relentless pulses straight through me, making me clamp around him uncontrollably. My head spun. My limbs went numb. I couldn’t tell where to hold on anymore.

I turned my head, met his gaze again.

He looked satisfied.Triumphant.

I knew I was about to break.

I couldn’t form words. Couldn’t confess anything, even to myself. My vision brightened. My breathing became shallow and erratic. I clenched the restraints and screamed his name.

“P’Phayuu—!”

The third orgasm hit me with devastating force.

I’d thought nothing could surpass the second one. I was wrong.

My body seized violently, clamping around him as I came so hard I heard his broken groan — felt heat fill me. The knowledge of it made the orgasm even stronger.

I shook uncontrollably.

His heavy, warm breathing was at my neck as we both struggled for air, like we were stealing it from the room itself.

My vision blurred. My body wouldn’t respond. I felt him withdraw gently. The emptiness afterward wasn’t painful this time. It was warm. Sated. Almost comforting.

I was so sensitive I knew one more touch would undo me completely.

I heard him moving but couldn’t focus. My legs stretched out weakly. Everything felt too much.

I cracked my eyes open. I barely registered when he loosened the restraints.

One moment my wrists were still clenched around empty space, the next my arms fell limply onto the mattress, heavy and uncooperative. My body felt like it belonged to someone else — warm, trembling, completely spent.

“Shh,” Phayu murmured close to me. “I’ve got you.”

His voice anchored me.

I felt his hands at my sides, steady and careful, as he helped me sit up just enough to wrap something soft around me. Silk brushed against my skin. Cool at first, then quickly warming. A robe. The fabric smelled faintly of him.

I tried to help. I really did.

My body didn’t listen.

Phayu noticed immediately.

“Don’t,” he said gently. “Just let me.”

The world tilted when he lifted me. I barely had time to gasp before his arms were around me, solid and sure, pulling me against his chest. I clung to him instinctively.

He was warm.

His heartbeat was strong beneath my ear.

It slowed mine.

“I’ve got you,” he repeated, quieter now, like it was meant only for me.

I mumbled something. I wasn’t sure what. My tongue felt thick, my thoughts scattered.

He carried me down the corridor, the lights dimmed low enough that they didn’t sting my eyes. Everything felt distant, wrapped in cotton.

The bathroom came into focus slowly.

He set me down on the edge of the tub, never letting go completely. One hand stayed at my back, firm and grounding.

“Stay here,” he said softly. “I’m right in front of you.”

Water began to run — warm, not hot. Steam curled faintly in the air.

Phayu knelt in front of me, unhurried, and took a soft cloth. He didn’t rush. Didn’t avoid me. Didn’t make it clinical.

He cleaned me carefully, methodically, as if every touch was deliberate. Not to arouse, not to claim, but to care.

“You’re doing well,” he murmured when I swayed. “Breathe with me.”

I did.

In. Out.

When my hands trembled, he guided them under the water, washing my fingers one by one. He pressed the cloth gently to my face, to my neck, to my shoulders, wiping away sweat and tears I hadn’t realized had fallen.

“There,” he said quietly. “That’s it.”

He rinsed my mouth, holding the glass for me when I drank too fast and spilled a little down my chin. He wiped it away with his thumb, expression soft, unguarded.

“Easy,” he murmured. “No rush.”

I leaned into his touch without thinking.

At some point, he wrapped me in a towel, then the robe again, tying it securely so I wouldn’t have to worry about it slipping.

“Can you stand?” he asked.

I tried.

My legs shook immediately.

“Okay,” he said calmly. “That answers that.”

Before I could protest, he lifted me again. Careful, practiced,  and I tucked myself against him, cheek pressed to his collarbone. His scent filled my lungs, grounding me more than anything else had all night.

I whispered something.

It might have been his name.

He carried me into my bedroom and laid me down gently, adjusting the pillows until I was comfortable. He pulled the blanket up around me, tucking it in like I was something precious.

Something that needed protecting.

I felt him sit beside me on the bed. His hand brushed through my hair, slow and repetitive, until my breathing evened out again.

“You’re safe,” he said softly. “You did beautifully.”

I tried to answer.

Words slipped away from me, dissolving before they reached my mouth.

He didn’t push. He stayed.

I remember him smoothing my hair back from my face. Pressing a kiss to my forehead — light, careful, nothing that asked for anything in return.

I heard him say something about tomorrow.

Dinner. Parents.

The words floated through my mind without meaning, like something from a dream I’d forget by morning.

I blinked at him, confused, then smiled faintly. Not even sure why.

He chuckled under his breath.

“Sleep,” he said gently. “We’ll talk later.”

And I did.

I sank into the mattress, into warmth, into the steady rhythm of his presence beside me — and let the world fade out completely.

Chapter Text

I cracked my eyes open and saw 08:00 glowing softly on the clock on the bedside table.

I exhaled and rolled onto my back, staring toward the window hidden behind thick curtains. My body still carried faint echoes of last night. Not pain, not discomfort, just a lingering awareness. I closed my eyes, and memories rushed in all at once.

The complete loss of control. The overwhelming emotions. Phayu.

I breathed out slowly and opened my eyes again.

What he had shown me last night hadn’t been frightening. But the real question was—would it always be like that?

I understood what he’d done. He’d shown me what happened in that room. A glimpse. A controlled version. And still… I couldn’t shake the feeling that it had only been the beginning. There were so many tools, so many things I couldn’t even imagine using yet.

I suspected he was still holding back. And that was probably the right thing to do.

But I had to be honest with myself. It scared me.

Deeply.

Not in a way that made me want to run. But in a way that made my chest feel tight. Because I could feel it happening already. I was starting to fall for him. Hard.

I felt good with him. Safe, even. And I hadn’t felt that way since the day I’d been left alone in Thailand.

Sky had been there. Still was. But this was different.

I was afraid that I’d fall for Phayu completely, like head over heels,  and when he finally reached his limit, when he showed me everything… I’d realize I couldn’t handle it.

And if that happened—

My eyes burned.

Stop. Rain, stop. Not now.

I pushed myself upright, shaking the thoughts away. My head still felt a little light. My hands trembled faintly. I remembered the strength of his grip on me last night and swallowed, goosebumps rippling over my skin.

I stood, made the bed, and went into the bathroom. The light flicked on. I stepped closer to the mirror.

I barely recognized myself.

I pulled off the tank top — one Phayu must have dressed me in. My nipples were still faintly red. I brushed my hand over my chest, then turned my head, checking my neck.

No marks.

I lowered my gaze and noticed faint bruises along my thighs.

A small smile tugged at my lips. I liked seeing them.

I turned on the faucet, washed my face, brushed my teeth, all on autopilot. When I looked at myself again, I sighed and left the bathroom.

I pulled on sweatpants and an old T-shirt, then sat on the edge of the bed and picked up my phone.

A message from Sky.

Hey! We’re good — resting, swimming, eating like kings. Today we’re going to the mountains. I promised I’d text you, so here I am :) Let me know when you can, are you okay? Prapai said you and Phayu are supposed to have dinner with his parents today. Good luck!

“What?!”

The word slipped out loud before I could stop it.

I glanced around, as if someone might’ve heard me.

Dinner? With his parents?

Meeting Khun Kinn had already been more than enough.

Then last night came crashing back. Fragments of Phayu’s voice, words like dinner and parents surfacing with brutal clarity.

So it hadn’t been my imagination.

Damn it. Why were we even going?

Okay. Breathe. It’s fine. There’s nothing inherently terrifying about dinner. Right?

I typed back.

Hey! I’m glad you’re having a good time! Enjoy it and don’t think about anything else. I hope dinner goes well too. I’ll text you later. Rest up.

I set my phone down and left the room.

The dizziness hadn’t gone away. If anything, it felt worse. My legs shook slightly as I headed downstairs, hoping to find Phayu.

Instead, I found Mali and … a table covered in food.

“Good morning, Khun Rain!” she greeted warmly, stepping away from the kitchen. “Did you sleep well? Are you feeling okay?”

“Ah— good morning, Mali,” I said, forcing a smile. “I slept fine. And please, just Rain. Khun is a bit much.”

She smiled back. “Of course, Rain.”

I swallowed.

“Um… where’s Phayu?”

“Khun Phayu had to leave for an urgent meeting,” she explained. “It came up suddenly. He’ll be back around lunchtime. He asked me to make sure you had breakfast — I hope this is alright.”

I looked at the table.

I’d never seen so much food for one breakfast. It looked like it could feed an army.

And suddenly, the room tilted.

“Mali, could I—”

That was all I managed before my body gave out. Darkness swallowed me.

I came back slowly.

Voices first. Hands. Concern.

“Rain— Rain, can you hear me?”

Mali’s face hovered above me, pale with worry. I was lying on the couch, a pillow tucked under my head.

“I— yeah,” I murmured. “I’m here.”

“Oh thank goodness,” she breathed. “I was about to call everyone— the doctor, Khun Phayu—”

“No,” I said quickly, sitting up too fast and immediately regretting it. “Please don’t.”

She steadied me instantly.

“Rain, you fainted.”

“I know,” I said softly. “I’m sorry. It happens sometimes.”

She frowned. “Sometimes?”

“I have anemia,” I explained, embarrassed. “Mornings can be rough. Especially if I don’t eat or maybe I had worn myself out the night before. After breakfast and some coffee, I’ll be fine. I promise.”

She hesitated.

“Please,” I added. “Don’t tell Phayu. I don’t want him to worry.”

She studied me for a long moment, then nodded.

“…Alright. But you eat. And rest.”

“I will. Thank you.”

She helped me to the table, sat with me while I ate slowly, made sure I drank coffee. Color returned to the world bit by bit.

I kept reassuring her that I was fine, that this happened sometimes, that it was my own fault for not warning anyone. And… honestly, it wasn’t even the last thing I’d forgotten to tell Phayu.

Damn it. Korea.

I sighed and closed my eyes for a moment.

“Rain, what is it?” Mali asked immediately, already on her feet. “Are you feeling unwell again?”

I smiled softly.

“No, I’m okay,” I said gently. “You’re not hungry yourself, are you? Would you like something?”

Mali smiled and sat down across from me.

“No, I’m alright,” she said. “But I can sit with you for a bit.”

I took another sip of coffee and looked at her.

Since Phayu wasn’t home, this was probably my only chance to ask. And I needed to know more. At least a little, before meeting his adoptive parents.

“Mali,” I began carefully, “can I ask you something… personal? Just between us?”

She looked at me with mild surprise.

“Of course,” she said warmly. “Go ahead, dear.”

“Mali… why does Phayu have adoptive parents?”

She exhaled quietly.

“Oh…” she said. “To be honest, I don’t know much myself. Khun Phayu and his fathers don’t really talk about it.”

Fathers?

I cleared my throat.

“He was adopted by two fathers?”

She nodded and smiled.

“Yes. Khun Kinn and Khun Porsche,” she said fondly. “And they’re truly some of the best people I’ve ever known.”

Wow. That was… actually one of my dreams.

Mali continued.

“They adopted Phayu when he was eight years old. The story is… complicated. From what I’ve heard, his early life was very hard. People were surprised he even survived that long. Social services took him away, and… about six months later, he appeared in the Theerapanyakul’s family.”

She paused briefly.

“A year later, they adopted Prapai too. People say it was easier with him — he’s different. Always laughing, smiling. Phayu smiles too… but rarely. He keeps everything inside.”

Her gaze softened as she looked at me.

“But since you appeared,” she added gently, “it’s like he’s starting to change. And that makes me very happy.”

I swallowed.

What had he been through…? One day, I’d know. I was sure of it.

My throat tightened, and I took another sip of coffee.

“Thank you for sharing that with me,” I said quietly.

Mali smiled kindly.

“You can always come to me,” she said. “I… really like you, Rain.”

I smiled back and stood up, then wrapped my arms around her briefly. She stiffened in surprise and then hugged me back just as warmly.

I let go.

“I think I’ll lie down for a bit,” I said. “Maybe sleep some more, since Phayu isn’t home.”

“Of course, dear,” she replied. “I’ll be here if you need anything.”

I nodded and headed upstairs, my thoughts heavier and warmer. All at once.

I lay down again, intending only to rest — but sleep pulled me under almost immediately.

I woke later to the sound of voices downstairs.

Phayu’s voice.

My heart jumped.

I slipped out of bed and made my way to the stairs just as—

“…he fainted,” Mali was saying, apologetic. “This morning.”

Silence.

Then Phayu spoke. Calm, controlled, but something underneath it was tight.

“He what?”

“I wanted to call you, Khun Phayu, but Rain asked me not to. He said he has anemia. That it happens sometimes.”

Another pause.

“Is he okay now?”

“Yes. He ate. Rested.”

“…Thank you.”

I took a step down.

And then—

We saw each other.

Phayu froze.

The carefully composed mask he wore cracked — just for a second  and I saw it.

Fear. Concern.

He moved toward me instantly.

“Rain…” he exhaled softly. “Are you alright?”

“Yes— yes, I’m fine, P'Phayu,” I replied quickly. “I didn’t want to scare anyone.”

He sighed but didn’t answer right away.

“Come with me.”

He turned and headed toward the stairs. I followed him up to the third floor. My head still felt a little light, but nothing like earlier.

Phayu opened the door to his study.

Wow.

It was… stunning.

Spacious. Immaculately organized. Everything had its place. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the garden outside, letting in soft daylight. Shelves lined with books, a massive desk, an atmosphere that radiated control and discipline.

He gestured toward a small couch.

“Sit.”

I nodded and did as told.

I suddenly felt painfully out of place — me in an old, stretched T-shirt and loose pants, him in a perfectly tailored dark blue suit, hair styled flawlessly.

He removed his jacket, draped it over a chair, then walked over and crouched in front of me.

Without asking, he took my hand and pressed his fingers to my wrist, eyes flicking to his watch.

As if counting my pulse.

“P’Phayu… what are you doing?” I asked quietly.

“Be still.”

He kept his focus on the watch for a full minute before releasing my wrist. Then he placed his palm against my forehead, studying my face closely.

“P'Phayu, I’m fine. Really.”

“On Monday,” he said evenly, “you’re going to our private clinic for a full check-up.”

I tensed.

“As your Dominant,” he continued, voice firm, “I need to know everything about my submissive’s health. That was also part of the agreement.”

I swallowed, my nerves spiking.

“P’Phayu, please listen to me,” I said quickly. “I really am fine. I’ve had this since I was a child. I have anemia. Sometimes I get dizzy if I don’t eat on time, if I’m tired. My blood pressure drops and I faint. I’ve lived with this my whole life. I’m okay.”

I saw his jaw tighten.

He stood slowly, now towering over me.

Damn.

“Then why didn’t you tell me earlier?” he asked, his voice low — the kind of low that came when he was angry… or scared.

“I— I just forgot,” I said weakly. “I didn’t think it was important…”

“What do you mean you didn’t think it was important?!” His voice rose sharply.

Anger flared in his eyes.

“I need to know everything about you. Especially why and how you feel unwell!”

My throat tightened. I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t.

I stood up carefully and met his gaze.

“I’m sorry,” I said quietly. “I didn’t think it through. I promise I’ll tell you everything from now on. I’m just… not used to someone caring this much.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

His expression changed instantly.

I felt embarrassed. Exposed.

Phayu broke the silence with a long breath and turned away, walking back to his chair and sitting down.

“Alright,” he said more calmly. “Is there anything else I should know?”

Korea. My mom. The trip.

Not now.

“No,” I said softly.

“Alright.” He opened his laptop. “Tonight we’re having dinner with my parents. They’re very eager to see you. I asked Aon to bring several suits for you to try on. He’ll be here by two.”

I swallowed.

Suits? Was it really that formal?

“Okay… thank you, Phayu,” I said, glancing at his screen. “Are you… okay?”

He looked up at me. His expression softened — like he suddenly remembered where he was, who stood in front of him.

“Yes. I’m fine,” he said. “I just don’t like when people can’t do their jobs properly, and I end up handling things on my day off because apparently I’m the only one with enough sense.”

I exhaled and smiled faintly.

He noticed immediately.

“What?” he asked. “Why are you smiling?”

I didn’t think before speaking.

“You’re… kind of cute when you’re all intimidating.”

My eyes widened instantly.

“That— I didn’t mean—”

Phayu sighed, leaned back in his chair, and finally smiled.

The tension in the room eased.

“Ask Mali to bring me some coffee,” he said. “I need to work. I’ll join you for the fitting later.”

I smiled.

“I’ll make you coffee myself,” I said. “It’s no trouble. I don’t really have anything to do while you’re busy anyway. Maybe you’d like something to eat too?”

He froze. Literally. He looked at me like I’d just proposed a new law of physics.

Then he cleared his throat.

“No. Thank you. Coffee will be enough.”

“I’ll be right back.”

I stepped out, closed the door behind me, and leaned against it for a moment, breathing deeply.

How was he going to react when I told him I’d be leaving for a few days?

…Later.

I’d tell him later. Not now.

Time passed surprisingly fast.

I made coffee for Phayu — and despite the fact that he’d said he wasn’t hungry, I prepared a light snack to go with it anyway. I arranged everything neatly on a tray and carried it into his study.

He looked up immediately.

I smiled, walked over, and set the tray down on his desk.

He exhaled softly.

“Thank you…”

I nodded.

“Of course.”

I was already turning toward the door when he stopped me.

“Rain,” he said. “Stay here while I work. I didn’t bring you here just so you could sit alone.”

I turned back and smiled gently.

“Alright.”

He nodded and returned to his work.

I moved to the bookshelf and pulled out a book on architecture at random. Sitting down on the couch, I tucked my legs beneath me and began to read, occasionally glancing up at Phayu.

He looked so serious when he worked.

Sometimes I forgot who he really was.

The CEO of a massive, ever-growing company. A man with countless people under his authority — respected, feared. And yet… among all those people, he had chosen me.

A student who had just graduated. Someone who didn’t even know where he’d be working in a few months. Someone painfully ordinary beside him.

Then again, Prapai and Sky weren’t that different from me. Maybe none of us really knew what we were doing yet.

With Phayu, nothing would ever be simple.

I didn’t know what would happen next. Or when he’d ask me to finally sign that agreement. Living with him would never be easy — I knew that.

So maybe the best thing was to live in the moment. To enjoy what I had now.

Even if it ended.

Even if one day we realized we were too different to exist in the same life — this would still be the most beautiful memory I’d ever have.

My throat tightened again.

I forced myself to focus back on the book.

The steady rhythm of the text soothed me. At some point, I let my eyes close. Just for a second.

I didn’t know how long that second lasted.

When I opened my eyes, I was still on the couch, but now I was half-lying down. A pillow supported my head, a soft, warm blanket covered me, and Phayu was crouched in front of me.

Holding my hand.

There was a flash of something like panic on his face — as if I’d caught him doing something private.

“Phi…?” I murmured.

He released my hand immediately, stood up, and cleared his throat.

“Aon is back,” he said evenly. “It’s time to try on the suits he brought.”

I yawned, covering my mouth, and nodded. I slipped out from under the blanket and stood.

“Let’s go,” I said with a small smile.

Phayu opened the door and headed for the second floor — my bedroom.

I followed him.

Inside, an entire rack of suits waited for me. I stopped short, stunned, and stepped closer. Phayu sat down in the armchair beside my bed.

“Wow…” I murmured, running my fingers lightly over the hangers.

“You can choose as many as you like,” he said. “If they fit. Or take all of them.”

I turned to look at him.

“Ah— okay. Sure.”

I went back to examining the suits, glancing at the tags.

Prada. Armani. Gucci. Yves Saint Laurent.

The prices weren’t worth naming.

I chose one — dark gray with subtle white accents — along with a matching shirt and a pair of understated dress shoes. Turning back to Phayu, I headed for the bathroom.

“I’ll be right back.”

He nodded.

I changed and studied myself in the mirror.

I looked… incredible.

The suit fit perfectly — tailored to my body, clean lines, elegant. I smiled faintly and reached for the small box on the dresser.

The watch.

Phayu’s graduation gift.

I fastened it carefully around my wrist, took one last look, and stepped out of the bathroom.

Phayu was standing by the window.

He turned the moment I appeared.

And froze.

He looked me over from head to toe — and then smiled. Slowly. Almost stunned.

I exhaled and smiled nervously.

“I look ridiculous, don’t I?”

He stepped closer, lifted my chin gently, and met my eyes.

“Rain,” he said quietly. “You’re stunning. You shine even more than before. I wish you could see yourself through my eyes.”

He leaned in and kissed me.

Not like last night.

Still deep — but softer. Filled with something else.

Then he pulled back.

“We’ll take all the suits,” he said. “You’ll need them.”

“But—”

“Aon!”

A moment later, P'Aon stepped into the room.

“Khun Phayu. Khun Rain,” he greeted politely, bowing.

I nodded back, cheeks still warm from the kiss.

“We’ll take everything,” Phayu said. “Please ask Mali to arrange them in Rain’s wardrobe.”

Aon nodded.

“As you wish, Khun Phayu. Shall we head out?”

“Yes,” Phayu replied. “The drive will take at least an hour. We should leave.”

Aon left the room.

Phayu turned to me.

“Are you ready?”

I swallowed.

“Yes. And you…?”

He clearly hadn’t expected that question.

He nodded, took my hand, and together we headed toward the exit.

We left Phayu’s house and took the back seat of one of his cars, heading toward Kinn and Porsche’s place. The ride passed in silence, soft music from the radio filling the space just enough to make it comfortable.

Phayu was looking out the window, clearly lost in thoughts. I watched the city lights slide past and wondered what tonight’s dinner would bring.

And still— the image from earlier wouldn’t leave my mind.

Me waking up in his study. Phayu sitting beside me, holding my hand, watching me breathe.

I swallowed.

How many times had that already happened without me ever noticing?

Suddenly, I felt his hand close around mine, his fingers slipping between mine with quiet certainty. I turned my head toward him.

He was looking at me. Not casually, but deeply. As if something chaotic and restless was unfolding behind his eyes.

I exhaled and offered him a soft smile.

“Are you okay?”

He looked at me, as if he’d been about to say something else entirely—then stopped himself.

“Yes. Completely,” he replied. “How are you feeling? Is your head dizzy?”

I noticed P’Aon glance at us through the rearview mirror.

I nodded.

“P'Phayu, I’m really fine. I promise.”

He nodded once, turned his gaze back to the window, and began slowly tracing his thumb over the back of my hand. It was grounding. Comforting.

After a while, we arrived.

Kinn and Porsche’s house was… different. Not like Phayu’s. There was the same undeniable sense of power and grandeur—but here, it was warm. Lived-in. It didn’t feel lonely.

A massive estate, gardens stretching wide, and somewhere in the distance, what looked like a greenhouse. At the time, I had no idea what conversation awaited us there.

The car stopped. P’Aon got out and opened the door for us.

I stepped out and couldn’t stop myself from looking around. Everything about this place spoke of togetherness. Of people who built something side by side.

“Impressive?” Phayu asked behind me.

I turned and nodded quickly.

“Yes. Very.”

And the thought came uninvited: I’d like something like this someday.

Together. With Phayu.

He took my hand, and we walked toward the entrance.

The door opened almost immediately.

Porsche greeted us first.

“Rain, finally,” he said warmly, pulling me into a hug without hesitation. “I’m so glad to finally meet you in person.”

His warmth instantly eased some of my nerves.

I bowed politely.

“The pleasure is mine, Khun Porsche.”

He smiled, studying me like he was recognizing something familiar.

“Please, no formalities. Just Porsche. I still can’t believe Phayu finally brought someone here. I was starting to think it was hopeless.”

He glanced at Phayu.

“Relax your face, darling.”

He leaned in to hug him. Phayu sighed softly but returned the embrace.

“Good to see you, Dad.”

Kinn stood a little farther back—composed, observant, his gaze sharp and cool.

“Come in,” he said simply.

I bowed again.

“Thank you, Khun Kinn. It’s good to see you again.”

He nodded once. And for a moment, I thought I saw the hint of a smile.

Inside, the house smelled of incredible food and wine. The lighting was low, candles flickering on the table, creating an atmosphere that felt surprisingly intimate—like I wasn’t in the home of one of the most powerful families in Thailand at all.

Kinn took the head of the table, Porsche beside him. Phayu and I sat opposite.

Kinn glanced at the empty chair.

“Prapai couldn’t join us,” he said calmly.

“Yes,” Porsche nodded. “He went away with your friend?”

“With Sky,” I confirmed. “They left right after graduation.”

“Good,” Porsche said warmly. “Then someone is very happy tonight.”

I smiled. Genuinely.

Dinner was incredible.

Phayu kept glancing at me, and at some point, I felt his hand settle on my thigh beneath the table. I gave him a playful smile. He smirked and took a sip of wine.

Conversation flowed easily.

“So you’re an architect,” Porsche leaned forward. “Why architecture?”

“I’ve always liked creating spaces,” I replied. “Places where people want to stay.”

“He was the same as a kid,” Porsche chuckled, nodding at Phayu. “Once locked himself in the greenhouse because he decided the plants needed ‘quiet.’”

“I was nine,” Phayu said dryly.

“And refused to come out,” Porsche continued, “until Kinn promised no one would talk loudly for the rest of the day.”

Kinn huffed.

“Stubborn ever since.”

I smiled. I felt… comfortable. Almost at home.

Porsche set his glass down and looked between Phayu and me, his expression softening.

“You know, Rain,” he said gently, “we’re really happy that Phayu finally brought someone to meet us.”

I froze and glanced at Phayu.

He looked away.

“He’s never done this before,” Kinn added calmly. “Not once.”

Porsche nodded.

“Even when we asked. Even when we insisted. He always said it wasn’t time. Or that it wasn’t necessary.”

Something tightened in my chest.

“It’s… an honor,” I said quietly. “Really.”

Porsche smiled warmly.

“We can see how he changes when he’s with you.”

“Dad,” Phayu said sharply.

“What?” Porsche shrugged. “That’s not criticism. That’s joy.”

Kinn studied me closely.

“You should know this, Rain,” he said evenly. “If Phayu brings someone into this house, he’s already made a choice. Even if he hasn’t admitted it to himself yet.”

Silence settled over the table.

Porsche continued gently.

“We’re not pressuring you. We don’t expect anything.”

He glanced at Phayu.

“It’s just… good to see him not alone.”

Phayu said nothing. He only tightened his grip on his glass.

Then Kinn looked at me again.

“And your parents, Rain?”

My chest clenched.

“My mother lives in Korea,” I answered after a pause. “I’m… flying to see her for a few days.”

The moment the words left my mouth, I knew. Damn it.

I hadn’t told Phayu.

I looked at him. His expression was calm—but his jaw was tight.

“There,” Porsche smiled at him gently. “See? You should visit us more often too.”

“Dessert?” Kinn asked.

“Later,” Phayu cut in sharply as he stood. “I promised to show Rain the greenhouse.”

Too sharp.

Kinn and Porsche exchanged a confused glance.

Porsche looked at us.

“Alright,” he said softly. “But come back.”

And I knew— something had already begun to unravel.

We left almost immediately.

The air outside was cool, the garden dark and quiet. We walked fast, neither of us speaking.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Phayu finally asked.

“I wanted to,” I said honestly. “I really did. Earlier today. But you were already tense, and I didn’t want to… add fuel to the fire. I’m sorry.”

He opened the doors to the greenhouse, let me step inside, and then closed them behind us.

The click of the lock sounded far too loud.

My heart was pounding so hard it felt like it might break free from my chest.

“Are you angry?” I asked quietly.

He turned to face me.

“Yes,” he said evenly. “Very. So much so that my hands are itching.”

He stepped closer.

“That’s why I’m going to show you what happens when you don’t tell me things this important. But not here.” A pause. “At home.”

I swallowed.

Phayu closed the distance between us, placed his hands on my head, and crashed his mouth against mine.

Hungry. Claiming. Like he was marking me—showing me exactly who I belonged to.

He pressed into me, forcing me back until I hit the railing. When he finally pulled away, we were both breathing hard.

He leaned back just enough to look at me.

“You’re mine, Rain,” he said quietly. “You belong to me. You don’t get to make decisions like that without my knowledge and pretend it’s normal. I need you to understand that. Once and for all.”

My breath came fast and shallow.

I stepped away from him, crossing to the other side of the greenhouse and gripping the railing. I could feel his gaze burning into my back.

“P’Phayu, please,” I said softly, turning to face him. “It’s hard for me to understand you. Why make everything so complicated? What do you actually want from me?”

He walked toward me without hesitation.

“You,” he said. “Only you. I want only you.”

I licked my lips.

Enough. I wasn’t going to stay silent anymore.

“Then why can’t we sleep together?” The words spilled out. “Why can’t I touch you? Why—why is there always this distance? What are you afraid of?”

He went still.

His jaw tightened, his expression darkened, and he stepped even closer. His eyes looked almost black.

“If you sign the agreement,” he said lowly, “you won’t have to think about that.”

I laughed. Short, sharp, nervous. That damn agreement again.

“Why do you need it so badly?” I asked, meeting his gaze. “Am I not enough the way I am?”

He froze.

“I need you,” he said quietly. Then stopped, swallowed, and continued. “I… I love you as you are.”

For a moment, I couldn’t process the words.

Maybe it was emotion. Maybe anger. I didn’t know how to react.

I took a deep breath.

“I need more than an agreement,” I whispered. “I want you. Not rules. Not conditions. You.”

“Flowers, romance, confessions,” he replied, “they’re not who I am. You know that.”

Then he added, his voice softer but heavier:

“But you don’t understand the most important thing, Rain. You’re already changing me.”

Something inside me snapped.

I was tired of waiting. Tired of holding back. Tired of guessing.

“Please…” My voice shook. “Just let me—”

I stepped into him, wrapped my arms around his neck, pressed close. Our lips were so close—

He kissed me. Hard. Deep.

And then, just as suddenly, he pulled away and gently removed my hands.

“I can’t,” he said quietly.

My eyes dropped to his chest, to the familiar marks I’d seen every time his shirt came undone.

My voice betrayed me.

“Please, P’Phayu, tell me… are those burns?” I whispered.

He buttoned his shirt.

“I had a difficult childhood,” he said evenly. “That’s all you need to know.”

He turned toward the exit.

“We need to go.”

And I knew— this conversation wasn’t over. Just postponed.

We said our goodbyes to Kinn and Porsche quickly, refusing dessert.

Phayu was tense—so tense it felt like it filled the air around him. He was distant. Withdrawn. And if I was being honest, I was afraid to imagine what awaited me once we got home.

We stopped by the door.

Porsche hugged me—lightly, kindly.

“Come again,” he said. “You’re always welcome here.”

Kinn only nodded, but there was more in that nod than in a long speech.

In the car, we were silent.

The drive there had felt easy. The drive back was completely different.

Phayu didn’t look at me. Didn’t take my hand. He stared out the window, rigid, controlled. P’Aon didn’t say a word either. We all understood that silence was the safest option.

By the time we reached Phayu’s house, the ride had made me drowsy. I yawned softly, rubbed my eyes.

P’Aon opened the door and nodded to me. I nodded back.

I was afraid to step inside.

Afraid of what waited behind closed doors. Afraid of what would happen if we went into the blue room tonight. I knew it wouldn’t be like yesterday. Phayu was angry. And… hurt.

Inside, the house greeted us with silence and dim light. Phayu removed his jacket and unbuttoned his collar.

What he said next shocked me—and, strangely, eased something in my chest.

“I need to work,” he said. “Go to bed. We’ll talk in the morning.”

He didn’t even turn around. He just went upstairs.

“But—” I started.

“Go. To. Bed.”

He was gone.

I stood there alone, hands trembling.

Eventually, I went upstairs, into my room. I turned on the light and closed the door. Only then did I allow myself to breathe—deeply.

My heart was racing. I didn’t understand my emotions at all. I felt empty. Disoriented.

I moved on autopilot.

Took off my jacket. Shirt. Pants. Hung the suit carefully in the wardrobe. Then I went into the bathroom, turned on the shower, and stepped inside without thinking.

Hot water streamed over my body, washing away the day.

And with it—tears.

They slid down my cheeks, hot and salty. My legs gave out, and I sank down to the floor, pulling my knees to my chest.

I cried.

I cry very rarely. I usually stop myself halfway, tell myself everything is fine.

But now—I couldn’t.

My emotions were overflowing.

I wanted to reach him. To fill his loneliness. To show him that it’s okay not to be alone. I wanted to lie in bed with him, wake up to his smile. To feel his warmth. To hold him. To let him know I was here—and not going anywhere. But he wouldn’t let me close. He had built his walls too high.

I took a deep breath. Slowly, the sobbing eased.

If I had enough strength, patience, and stubbornness, I would break through those walls.

And we would build new ones together.

I wasn’t ready to give up. Not yet.

I stood, washed my face, turned off the water, put on my pajamas, dried my hair a little, and went to bed.

I lay down, pulled the blanket over myself, and picked up my phone.

There were photos from Sky—mountains, smiles, sunlight. I smiled softly. I was truly happy for him.

In our group chat, chaos reigned. Sig had sent a link to an article about Phayu.

There was a photo of us—from graduation.

I opened it.

We looked… good. Balanced. Almost harmonious.

I saved the photo without reading the messages.

Put my phone down. Stared out at the night garden. Eventually sleep took me.

I didn’t wake all at once.

First came the feeling of presence—that quiet awareness that arrives before thought.

I wasn’t alone.

The room was dark, lit faintly by moonlight.

I didn’t move. I slowed my breathing, pretended to sleep.

Then I heard his voice. Soft. Almost a whisper.

He was sitting on the edge of the bed. His back to me.

“You’re asleep…” he said, as if convincing himself. A pause. “Of course you are.”

The mattress dipped slightly under his weight.

He didn’t touch me. Didn’t lean closer. As if he was afraid.

He stayed silent for a long time—so long I thought he might leave.

Then he spoke again. Quiet. Hoarse. A voice he had never used with me before.

“It would be easier for you…” he began, then stopped. Exhaled. “It would be easier if you didn’t know.”

A pause.

“I was eight when they took me.”

The words landed heavily.

“My mother worked nights,” he said, with a crooked, joyless smile. “That’s what she called it.”

I curled my fingers beneath the sheet.

“Sometimes she brought money home. Sometimes she didn’t. Sometimes she came back sober. Usually—she didn’t.”

His voice trembled, but he continued.

“Sometimes she brought clients home. Told me to stay quiet. In my room. Not to breathe.”

Cold spread through me.

“She said if I was a good boy, she’d buy me something. She never did.”

He swallowed.

“My father…” The word came slowly. “He hated anything that reminded him of weakness. Me—most of all.”

A dull sound. A clenched fist.

“He didn’t always hit. That would’ve been easier. He knew how to wait. How to look at you until you were afraid before the blow.”

I didn’t breathe.

“His friends were the same. They drank. Laughed. And looked at me like I was something that could be broken—because no one would notice.”

His voice dropped.

“Sometimes they touched me. Sometimes they only looked. But I always knew—if I said a word, it would be worse.”

He leaned forward. Elbows on his knees.

“I learned early that my body didn’t belong to me. That silence was protection. That obedience was currency.”

Pause.

“I stopped feeling. Stopped crying. Stopped knowing where I ended.”

My chest shook.

“When they took me away,” he exhaled, “I didn’t scream. I just stood there, watching my father yell at men in uniform. And thought—now no one can make me.”

He turned his head slightly. I saw only his silhouette.

“Kinn and Porsche gave me safety. Blood stopped being normal. Fear stopped being daily.”

Another hollow smile.

“But I couldn’t let go of control. Because if I don’t control—someone else does.”

He ran a hand over his face.

“I didn’t become a dominant because I like power,” he said quietly. “I became one because I know what happens when it’s taken from you.”

His voice was barely audible now.

“The agreement isn’t about pain. It’s about choice. About asking. About stopping. About no one losing themselves the way I did.”

Silence.

Only his breathing.

“I don’t know how to be close without structure, Rain,” he said at last. “Without rules, I lose the ground under my feet. And I won’t survive chaos again.”

He stood.

I closed my eyes instantly.

Before leaving, he paused.

“You’re the first person I wanted to tell,” he said softly. “Not because you’re weak. But because you’re alive.”

The door closed almost silently.

I opened my eyes. I couldn’t move.

And I knew—I wasn’t supposed to hear this.

But I hoped, so deeply—that it made things even a little easier for him.

I wanted to run after him. Hold him. Give him all the warmth I had. Help him forget that horror.

But I couldn’t.

I shouldn’t have heard it.

I shouldn’t know.

Chapter Text

I stood barefoot on the cold kitchen tile.

The tile clung to the soles of my feet. The air smelled like burnt oil, medicine, and the overly sweet syrup Mom used to add to tea when we ran out of sugar.

I was… small. I don’t know how old I was. Maybe seven. Maybe eight. I just felt small.

I was holding a mug.

White. With a thin crack along the handle. It burned my fingers, but I didn’t let go. Because if I let go, it would shatter. And if it shattered, Mom would be upset.

I carefully lifted myself onto my toes and set the mug on the table. Slowly. Quietly. So it wouldn’t clink.

“Good job, sunshine…”

I flinched and turned around.

Mom was sitting by the window, hugging herself like she was cold. Even though the apartment was always stuffy. Her hair was tied back carelessly, strands stuck to her cheeks. Her eyes were red, but she was smiling.

She always smiled at me.

Even when she looked like she was about to break.

I walked closer. I always walked closer. Like if I stayed near her, things would hurt less.

“You’re awake again?” she asked softly.

I shook my head.

She reached out and touched my cheek. Her fingers were cool and trembling slightly. I always noticed that. I just never said it out loud.

“You should be sleeping… you’re still growing…”

I didn’t answer. I just pressed my face into her knees. Her shirt smelled like laundry detergent and cigarettes she hid in the closet, thinking I didn’t notice.

I noticed everything.

“Mom…” I whispered.

She stilled.

“Hmm?”

I swallowed. That question was always hard. Like if I said it out loud, it would become real.

“Are you staying home tonight?”

Her fingers stopped moving through my hair. She started separating strands, like she was counting them.

“I’ll try…”

I closed my eyes.

I knew what that meant.

I always knew.

The front door slammed.

Sharp. Loud. Something inside me clenched.

Footsteps.

Heavy. Male.

Father.

I pressed closer to Mom. I felt her entire body tense instantly. Like she forgot how to breathe.

“Go to your room, sunshine…” she whispered.

I shook my head.

I didn’t want to leave. Because if I left, she would be alone.

“Rain, sunshine…” Her voice softened. Almost pleading. “Please.”

I looked at her.

She was smiling.

But her eyes… her eyes were afraid.

Slowly, I let go of her shirt.

I walked into the hallway. Quietly. I was always quiet. I learned early.

I never closed my bedroom door completely.

Through the crack, you could always hear.

Voices.

At first quiet. Then louder.

I sat on the floor and pulled my knees to my chest. I started counting the patterns in the carpet. It was my game. If I counted to a hundred, everything would stop.

Thirty-two.
Thirty-three.
Thirty-four.

The voices grew louder. Something fell. Then the sound of glass breaking.

I covered my ears.

But the sounds still got through. They always did.

I didn’t cry. I rarely cried back then. I just sat and counted.

Forty-nine.

Fifty.

Fifty-one.

Then suddenly—silence.

It was worse than screaming.

I slowly lowered my hands. My heart was pounding so loudly it felt like someone would hear it.

I stood up. Slowly. Very slowly.

I opened the door.

The kitchen was dark. The light was still on, but it looked weaker.

Mom was sitting on the floor, her back against the cabinets. Her shoulders were shaking. She was pressing her hand over her mouth to stop herself from making a sound.

Something inside me snapped.

I walked toward her carefully. Like if I moved too fast, she would disappear.

I sat beside her.

I didn’t ask questions. I never did.

I just took her hand in both of mine.

She looked at me. Her eyes were shining, but not… from the light.

“I’m sorry…” she whispered.

I shook my head.

I didn’t understand what she was apologizing for. But I knew I had to stay.

I moved closer and hugged her.

She froze at first. Then she pulled me into her arms so tightly it became hard to breathe.

“You’re so strong…” she whispered into my hair. “You’re my protector. Thank you, sunshine…”

I didn’t understand why those words felt so heavy. But I nodded.

Because I had always protected.

She kissed the top of my head.

“Promise me something…”

“What?”

“Never let anyone break you… okay?”

I hesitated. It sounded like a strange promise. But she looked at me like it was the most important thing in the world.

I nodded seriously.

“Okay.”

She smiled. A real smile. Warm. Just for me.

I closed my eyes, pressing into her shoulder. I felt calm. For the first time in a long while.

I heard her whisper something else. Very quietly.

“One day… you’ll meet someone who will hold you tighter than I can right now…”

I wanted to ask what she meant.

But her voice began to fade.

The smell of the kitchen disappeared.

Her arms disappeared.

The warmth disappeared.

Only cold remained.

I gasped and opened my eyes.

It took me several seconds to focus on the light and realize I was in my room.

In Phayu’s house.

I was lying in bed. My heart was racing. My cheeks were wet.

The memory hit me almost physically.

His voice this night. His confession. His pain. Everything I heard—even though I wasn’t supposed to.

I slowly rolled onto left side and pressed my face into the pillow, trying to steady my breathing.

And then I realized—

I was still clutching the bedsheet in my fist.

Like I was holding onto something. Like I was afraid that if I let go… someone would disappear.

And in my head, my mother’s words kept echoing.

“Don’t let anyone break you…”

I swallowed. My throat was painfully dry, like I had been screaming all night. But I knew the ache came from stress.

I rolled onto my back and sat up in bed.

I was leaving tomorrow. And now I realized just how terrified I was.

Thousands of kilometers between us.

I caught myself thinking something I didn’t want to admit—I didn’t want to leave. Not now.

What if everything fell apart while I was gone?

What if, in my absence, Phayu realized he needed someone who would simply accept his boundaries… and sign the agreement immediately?

Someone who would listen without questioning. Someone who would follow his commands without hesitation.

He already had said twice that I was changing him.

But he had limits too. What if one day he snapped?

I suddenly threw off the blanket and walked into the bathroom, flipping on the light. The night, and the morning, had been heavy.

My face looked slightly swollen. Tired.

I turned on the cold water and splashed my face. Brushed my teeth. Then looked at my reflection again.

What… what was I supposed to do now?

I was going to see him. I wouldn’t be able to look at him the same way anymore.

Now I knew his story.

The problem was—he had no idea that I knew.

I couldn’t tell him I had heard everything. It would destroy him. I had already made enough mistakes these past few days.

I needed to pretend. Pretend I hadn’t heard anything.

We would talk about it eventually. But I needed to prepare him first.

Maybe after I came back.

I took a deep breath and forced a smile at my reflection.

Everything is fine. Everything is okay.

I left the bathroom and headed downstairs. Of course, Phayu wasn’t there.

Again.

Mali was busy in the kitchen. She noticed me immediately.

“Good morning, dear,” she said with a warm smile.

“Good morning, P'Mali,” I smiled back. “Where is… P’Phayu? Please don’t tell me he already left again.”

She chuckled softly and shook her head.

“He’s most likely training in the gym. On his days off, he usually comes down for breakfast only after his workout.”

I blinked, surprised.

“Oh… the gym is here?”

Mali smiled, slightly amused by my confusion.

“Yes, of course. On the fourth floor. Khun Phayu hasn’t shown it to you yet?”

I shook my head.

“No. Thanks. I’ll… go check on him.”

She nodded and returned to her cooking.

I exhaled and slowly made my way upstairs. When I reached the fourth floor, I noticed large glass doors on the left. Through them, I could already see several pieces of gym equipment.

I stepped closer and—

Saw him.

I stood barefoot just outside the glass doors leading into the gym, the faint echo of rubber and metal vibrating through the space beyond.

Phayu was working his back. His muscles flexed and strained with every controlled pull, stretched to their absolute limit.

Sweat glistened across his skin, tracing slow lines down his spine and shoulders.

He was sitting with his back to me, wearing nothing but loose athletic shorts. His hair was half gathered into a careless bun, strands slipping free and sticking to the damp nape of his neck.

His arms tightened around the machine’s handles, biceps defined, powerful, almost overwhelming.

He was big. Impossibly big.

A shiver ran through my body, and with it came a pulse of heat low in my stomach… pressure stirring between my legs.

I swallowed hard.

God… why did I come here? What did I expect to find?

Of course it would be this.

I slowly stepped back, intending to slip away unnoticed—but this was Phayu. He felt my presence like instinct.

He released the machine abruptly and turned his head.

Our eyes locked.

My mouth went dry instantly. I tried to speak, to smile, to excuse myself—but I couldn’t stop staring at him.

He rose slowly. The sunlight pouring through the panoramic windows painted his body in gold, outlining every tense line of his abs and chest.

He was breathtaking.

And suddenly, all I could think about was how fragile the man beneath that strength truly was.

He smiled faintly and gestured for me to come in.

I swallowed again and pushed the glass door open.

“G–Good morning, Phi… P'Mali said I might find you here, and I just came to che—”

He cut me off mid-sentence.

His hands cradled my head as he crashed his lips into mine.

The kiss was scorching. Consuming. His mouth burned against mine like he had been starving for it. My breath caught instantly, shock rippling through me.

He pulled back, but his hands stayed on my face. His thumb brushed slowly across my cheek.

I struggled to catch my breath.

“Good morning, sleepyhead” he murmured, voice low and rough. “Did you sleep well?”

He looked straight into my eyes.

God… I was terrible at lying.

No, I hadn’t slept well. I’d heard everything I wasn’t meant to hear. Every confession. Every broken piece of him.

But I forced a soft smile.

“Yes, P’Phayu. I slept… really well.”

His gaze searched mine, sharp, probing—as if trying to catch the lie. Whether he did or chose to ignore it, I couldn’t tell. His expression softened slightly, satisfaction ghosting across his lips.

“Good,” he said quietly. “Are you ready to receive punishment for hiding two very important things from me?”

My brain short-circuited.

What? He was serious?

My knees trembled faintly. I blinked rapidly.

“You thought I wouldn’t punish you for that?” he asked, thumb gliding along my cheek again. “I thought I made that very… clear last night.”

Rain. You put yourself in this situation. Accept it. Show him you’re ready to take responsibility.

It sounded much easier in my head than in reality.

I swallowed and met his eyes.

“Y–Yes, P’Phayu. I’m ready… to accept punishment.”

The words sounded absurd leaving my mouth, almost laughable—but something inside me steadied.

Phayu smiled, satisfied.

“Good boy.”

Without warning, he lifted me and threw me over his shoulder.

“Phi..P’Phayu! What are you doing?!” I yelped.

“What’s wrong?” he asked calmly, already walking out of the gym.

My cheeks burned.

“P’Phayu, put me down! There are people in this house! What if someone sees— I can walk myself, P’Phayu—AH!”

I slapped my hand over my mouth.

He…Did he just smacked my ass??

“Don’t provoke me further,” he said in a low voice—but there was unmistakable amusement beneath it.

Heat rushed through me.

God… did I actually like that?

Rain, you are so screwed.

Within moments we reached the second floor, then the blue room.

And suddenly, nothing felt funny anymore.

Fear curled in my stomach.

He set me on my feet and stood before me.

“Take off your clothes,” he ordered.

I nodded silently, stripping out of my pajama shirt and pants. His gaze dropped instantly, pride flashing across his face when he saw my erection.

He stepped closer, still wearing only his athletic shorts. I stood completely naked before him.

“Raise your hands. Both of them.”

I obeyed without hesitation. I was terrified enough not to question him.

He secured my wrists above me, suspending them. My heart slammed violently against my ribs.

He crouched in front of me, spreading my legs wider before pressing a slow kiss to my ankle. Leather restraints wrapped around both ankles, fastening securely to the floor.

I was completely immobilized.

He rose and moved to the cabinet, retrieving a familiar leather blindfold.

My body trembled.

He returned to me.

“How do you feel?” he asked.

I swallowed, painfully aware of how hard I was.

“G–Green. Green, P’Phayu. I’m ready.”

He nodded and stepped behind me, tying the blindfold over my eyes.

Darkness swallowed everything.

I heard him step away again.

“Open your mouth.”

My breath hitched. Huh?

I parted my lips slightly. He slid something inside—round, firm. I could close my teeth around it but not speak.

A gag.

The straps fastened behind my head.

I… I couldn’t see. I couldn’t talk. Only listen.

Was I truly ready for this?

His hands slid over my waist. His lips brushed my neck. Then he stepped away again.

He checked each restraint carefully—ensuring nothing twisted, nothing cut into my skin.

“You won’t be able to speak,” he said calmly.

I nodded.

Something small and cold was placed into my palm.

Metal.

A ring.

“Listen carefully, Rain,” he said, voice dropping lower but gentler. “As long as you hold this, we continue.”

He curled my fingers around it.

“If you drop it… I stop. No questions asked.”

I swallowed.

His thumb stroked across my palm, testing my grip.

“Try it. Squeeze.”

I clenched my fist tighter.

“Good,” he murmured.

“Now… try letting go.”

I slowly opened my hand. The ring fell, clinking against the floor.

Immediately, he stepped closer. His hand rested on my shoulder.

“Good boy.”

He placed the ring back into my hand. This time, I clutched it tightly—like an anchor keeping me grounded.

The fear slowly softened. I understood that in this moment, like so many before… I belonged entirely to him.

And I wanted to understand what punishment meant in his world.

His breath ghosted across my ear. He bit it lightly.

Apparently, my ears turned out to be one of my sensitive spots.

Electricity shot through my body, racing straight to my cock.

A muffled sound escaped me against the gag.

Then his whisper brushed my skin.

“Now… I’m going to show you what happens when you disobey me. What it means to believe you can hide things from me… and forget who you belong to, Rain.”

My jaw tightened around the gag as my heart pounded violently in my chest.

Phayu stepped away from me slowly, deliberately.

I tried to calm the sharp edge of my arousal with steady breathing, but it barely helped. My chest kept rising too fast, my pulse hammering in my ears.

I heard him open one of the cabinets. Metal shifted softly against wood. Then, a second later, something soft brushed across my thighs.

My breath caught.

It felt like leather.

Oh my… is it a flogger?

I swallowed hard and bit down harder on the gag. My fingers tightened instinctively around the metal ring in my palm — my anchor, my permission, my last line of control.

The first strike landed.

“Mm—!” The muffled sound tore out of me as the leather snapped across my thigh.

It was sharp. Sudden. But the pain didn’t linger where I expected it to.

It bloomed outward, melting into something warm and electric beneath my skin.

Another strike followed.

I managed not to cry out this time, though my entire body tensed. My thighs twitched, desperate to close, desperate for friction, desperate for him.

The third lash landed across my back.

I jerked, head falling back as another strangled sound slipped past the gag. Saliva gathered at the corners of my mouth. My chest heaved as heat radiated through my skin.

The strikes continued — measured, controlled. I lost count somewhere around six. Not brutal. Not meant to break me. Just enough to remind me. To teach me.

Then silence.

I heard him step away again. Another cabinet opening. Something shifting.

His presence returned behind me.

And suddenly—

“Mmnh…!” The sound burst from my throat as his hand wrapped firmly around my cock.

Relief flooded me so fast it almost made my knees buckle.

His palm was warm, steady, grounding.

I felt slick lubricant spread across my skin as he began stroking me slowly, deliberately.

My entire body shivered as goosebumps rippled across my arms and chest.

The lingering sting from the whip sharpened every sensation, feeding directly into the throbbing heat between my legs.

I couldn’t stop the sounds spilling out of me. Couldn’t stop the way my hips instinctively tried to chase his touch.

I was already so close.

Then his hand disappeared.

A helpless, broken whine escaped me before I could stop it.

Something slid around the base of my cock — smooth, cool silicone.

I breathed fast, struggling to steady myself as the rising edge of orgasm faltered and retreated, leaving my nerves hypersensitive and raw.

Then he activated the toy and - 

“Mm—!” My body jerked violently as vibration spread through me. Heat surged through every nerve ending. I could barely hold still, barely think, barely breathe.

Phayu’s hand returned, stroking me again, perfectly synchronized with the vibration.

My entire body lit up, every muscle tightening as pleasure spiraled higher and higher.

My vision disappeared behind the blindfold as my head tilted back, mouth falling open helplessly around the gag.

I was right there.

Right at the edge.

And then—

Nothing.

The vibration cut off. His hand vanished.

My breath hitched sharply. A broken sound of protest forced its way out of me.

Understanding slammed into me seconds later.

This wasn’t teasing.

This was punishment.

Panic flickered at the edges of my mind. I wouldn’t last long like this. I already felt myself unraveling.

The vibration returned suddenly, dragging a loud cry from my throat.

At the same time, I felt his hands spreading lubricant across my entrance. I shuddered, arching instinctively, overwhelmed by anticipation and dread tangled together.

Something cold pressed against my hole.

Metal.

I moaned as he pushed the butt plug inside me slowly, stretching me open. The fullness sent a sharp pulse straight through my cock.

My thighs trembled violently as he pressed a kiss against my skin.

I swallowed hard, my breathing turning ragged.

Again I climbed toward the edge. Again sensation overwhelmed every thought.

The vibration pulsed relentlessly, the plug pressing deep, his hand returning to stroke me faster now, firmer.

Sweat dampened my skin as tension coiled tighter and tighter in my abdomen.

I could hear my heartbeat pounding in my ears.

I was seconds from breaking.

“Mmnn—!” I sobbed against the gag as everything stopped again.

Tears slipped beneath the blindfold. My cock throbbed painfully. My legs shook so badly I barely felt the floor beneath me.

Overstimulation crashed through me in waves, dizzying and suffocating. I gasped desperately for air, fighting the rising overwhelm threatening to drag me under.

Then his hand settled against my thigh.

His lips pressed against my neck. His tongue traced slow, grounding lines across my skin. The warmth steadied me, pulling me back from the edge of panic.

For a moment, my breathing eased.

Then the vibration returned.

Louder. Stronger.

His grip tightened around me, pushing me closer to madness. My body jerked helplessly, sobs and moans spilling uncontrollably around the gag.

I was so sensitive every touch felt like electricity racing across my nerves.

I couldn’t hold it anymore.

I felt myself slipping completely out of control.

My fingers trembled violently around the ring. My lungs burned as I tried to pull in air that wouldn’t come fast enough.

I realize I can’t endure this any longer.

I can’t take it anymore.

My body feels like it’s burning, and I’m trying to gulp down air desperately, but it’s not enough.

I nearly dropped it.

And suddenly — the gag was removed.

“Ah—!” I dragged in air greedily, my jaw trembling, throat raw.

“Now you understand,” Phayu’s voice murmured behind me, low and controlled, “How... it feels like, to be left in the dark.”

My mind barely processed the words. I could only cling to one desperate need.

“P–P’Phayu… please…” My voice cracked, barely recognizable.

I didn’t care how helpless I sounded anymore.

“Please what, Rain?” he asked quietly. “Please continue?”

I sobbed softly.

“No… I mean — yes — just not like this… please… please let me cum…”

His hand tightened around my thigh.

“You understand your mistake?”

Oh my God… was he serious? I understood. I’d already understood everything before we even came in here…

“Y-yes… yes,” I gasped. “Yes, P’Phayu… I understand… I belong to you…”

That was it.

He took the ring from my shaking hand.

The restraints released.

My arms dropped heavily at my sides, muscles trembling from the sudden freedom. The cuffs around my ankles followed, my knees buckling immediately.

He caught me by the waist and crushed his mouth against mine.

The kiss was hungry. Consuming. I tasted salt, breath, desperation as I clung to him just as fiercely.

He pulled back, guiding me toward the bed, turning me, bending me forward.

My chest and stomach pressed into the mattress while my legs remained on the floor, leaving me folded and exposed beneath him.

He drew my hands behind my back, enclosing both wrists in a single, firm hold.

The blindfold remained, plunging me deeper into sensation.

I turned my head against the sheets, breathing raggedly.

“P–P’Phayu… Please…”

The plug slid out, leaving me aching and empty for barely a second before he forced me deeper into the mattress with other hand and thrust inside me in one powerful motion.

“Ah—! Y–yes—!” The cry tore from me as my entire body clenched around him.

He moved without mercy — deep, relentless, striking directly against my prostate with every thrust.

My cock was trapped between my stomach and the mattress, grinding helplessly with each movement, friction driving me insane.

My legs shook uncontrollably.

His hand tangled in my hair, pulling my head back slightly, exposing my throat as my moans grew louder, more desperate.

“Rain…” His voice dropped low, rough with restraint. “You drive me insane.”

I could barely understand him anymore.

My mind had dissolved into pure sensation. Every thrust burned deeper, hotter, dragging me closer to collapse.

“P–P’Phayu… I… I’m going to—”

He didn’t slow. Didn’t stop.

The orgasm crashed through me violently.

My entire body locked tight around him as pleasure shattered through every nerve.

I cried out, trembling uncontrollably as wave after wave tore through me.

I felt him groan, raw, uncontrolled, as warmth spread across my back when he pulled out of me.

My body kept trembling long after the peak faded. I struggled to breathe, lungs dragging in air slowly, shakily, grounding myself again beneath the lingering weight of him.

Eventually, he moved away.

The blindfold slipped off.

I blinked slowly, vision swimming, tears drying against my cheeks as he released my wrists. Then his arms wrapped around me, lifting me effortlessly into his hold.

I looked up at him.

His hair was disheveled. His cheeks flushed. His eyes dark, still burning with emotion that hadn’t fully faded.

“Phi…”

“Shhh… it’s okay. You did well. You endured everything beautifully. I’m so proud of you…”

He pulled me closer against his chest.

“Mhm…”

That was all I managed to mumble.

A faint pulse still lingered through my body; my legs, head, and arms felt boneless, floating somewhere between exhaustion and bliss.

He carried me toward the door, cracking it open slightly as if checking whether anyone was nearby.

Then he stepped out, still holding me securely, and carried me straight into my bedroom before turning toward the bathroom.

He carefully lowered me onto a chair near the bathtub. I leaned back against it, watching him through half-lidded eyes.

He turned on the water. The tub began to fill slowly, steam curling into the air.

He started toward the door.

“P… Phi, are you—”

“Hey, hey. It’s okay. I’m not leaving. I’ll be right back, alright?”

He squeezed my knee gently.

I pouted slightly but nodded.

A moment later, he returned with a full glass of water. He brought it to my lips, steadying my head with careful fingers.

“Drink all of it.”

I nodded and drank greedily, emptying the glass in long, desperate gulps.

Once I finished, he set it aside, turned off the running water, and lifted me again, helping me settle into the bath.

Warm water wrapped around my body instantly, easing tension from muscles I hadn’t realized were trembling.

A moment later, he stepped into the tub behind me, pulling me gently back against his chest, allowing me to rest my weight on him.

I exhaled softly, letting my head fall back against his shoulder.

“There you go… good,” he murmured.

I only nodded.

“Thank you…” I whispered.

Phayu picked up a washcloth and began moving it slowly across my chest, tracing soft circles as he washed me. He moved lower, carefully cleaning my stomach, my thighs—

“Ah…!” I flinched sharply when he brushed against my cock, still painfully sensitive.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry…” he murmured quietly, adjusting his touch to be gentler.

I swallowed.

“It’s… it’s okay…” I murmured, blinking slowly. “That was… really intense…”

Phayu let out a low chuckle.

“As any punishment should be.”

I opened my mouth, about to ask what other punishments existed, but my stomach suddenly growled loudly.

“Oh…” I exhaled, letting out a small, embarrassed laugh. “Sorry…”

Phayu smirked, setting the cloth aside before placing both hands lightly over my stomach.

“Mali probably thinks we destroyed the entire gym.”

“Phi!” I protested.

“What? You think she assumes we’re reading books and discussing philosophy in there?”

I rolled my eyes.

“Maybe. Or maybe she thinks I joined your workout.”

He huffed another amused breath.

“Perhaps…”

I sighed and closed my eyes again, letting myself sink into the warmth.

It felt… peaceful.

For a moment, it felt almost normal. Like we were just an ordinary couple sharing a quiet morning together.

I knew it was aftercare — a careful tenderness following intensity — but somewhere deep in my mind, I wondered if moments like this could become something more permanent.

Something real.

It was strange, but right now… in this moment… I was happy.

Even if it was temporary. Even if it lasted only seconds. It was enough to keep me from giving up.

Eventually the water cooled slightly. I felt Phayu shift behind me.

I gathered what strength I could and slowly sat upright.

Phayu stepped out of the bath first. I curled my legs to my chest, wrapping my arms around them, resting my chin on my knees as I watched him.

He dried himself, then took one of the neatly folded robes from the shelf and slipped it on.

His hair was damp; he removed the tie, ran his fingers through it, then tied it back again.

He looked calmer now. Earlier that morning, tension had lingered in him — sharp, restless — but now it seemed like he had released it.

“Rain…?”

His voice reached me distantly, pulling me back to reality.

“Mm…?” I looked up at him.

“I called your name twice,” he said softly, holding out a towel. “Are you alright? Any dizziness?”

“No… no, I’m okay,” I said, blinking slowly. “I was just… admiring something beautiful.”

Phayu blinked, momentarily caught off guard, then allowed himself a small smile.

“Come here.”

I exhaled and carefully pulled myself out of the tub, gripping the edge for balance.

He immediately wrapped the towel around me, drying me with careful movements. Once finished, he helped me into a robe and tied it securely.

And I just… kept watching him.

He sighed softly and brushed his thumb across my lips.

Before I fully realized what I was doing, I leaned forward and kissed his thumb.

It was instinctive.

Automatic.

He froze instantly, as if the contact burned him.

His eyes flickered with something unreadable. He swallowed and slowly lowered his hand.

“Come on,” he said quietly. “Let’s go have breakfast.”

I nodded and followed him downstairs.

We headed downstairs together.

The table had already been set again, dishes arranged with careful precision.

When Mali noticed us, a warm smile immediately spread across her face — but it softened into polite composure the moment she saw Phayu standing beside me, her posture shifting into something more formal and respectful.

We sat down at the table.

“You’re later than usual today, Khun Phayu…” Mali remarked gently.

I swallowed, feeling my cheeks warm again.

Phayu smirked faintly as he picked up a bowl of salad and served himself.

“Yes, we had a rather intense workout.”

I shot him a sharp glance. Mali only smiled politely, turning back to her tasks.

I stared down at the table, honestly unsure what I even wanted to eat.

It felt like my body still hadn’t fully recovered from the punishment.

Phayu reached over, took my plate, and began placing vegetables, eggs, and a few slices of meat onto it.

“You need to finish all of this,” he said calmly, setting the plate in front of me before returning to his own food.

“But—” I started to protest, yet one look from him was enough.

No. I definitely didn’t want to earn another punishment today. Once was more than enough.

I sighed quietly and began eating in silence.

At first, it felt like I wouldn’t be able to swallow anything at all, but after a few bites, it became easier.

Phayu took a sip of his coffee and leaned back in his chair.

“Mali.”

She immediately turned towards him.

“Yes, Khun…” she said respectfully, folding her hands in front of her.

“You can finish your duties and head home early today. Take proper rest. Your daughter’s birthday is tomorrow, correct?”

Mali nodded, her eyes lighting up noticeably.

“Yes, thank you, Khun Phayu. That’s right, tomorrow is Lai’s birthday…”

Phayu nodded once.

“Good. Then take tomorrow off as well.”

He returned to his meal.

Mali smiled warmly and bowed her head slightly.

“Thank you, Khun Phayu…”

I finished my breakfast, setting my utensils down and letting out a slow breath.

“Thank you, P’Mali. It was delicious.”

She nodded politely and returned to the kitchen.

Phayu looked at me.

“When is your flight?”

I swallowed.

“Um… tomorrow. At 2:40 PM.”

He nodded thoughtfully.

“Alright. I’ll send Aon to collect your things from your home, and tomorrow I’ll drive you to the airport.”

What?

I could handle packing my own things perfectly fine. Why did he have to take control of everything for me?

“Um… P’Phayu, I can pack my own things. That’s really not necessary. Besides, how would he even know what I want to bring?”

Phayu’s expression tightened slightly as he looked at me.

“Rain, you’ll write him a list. And there will be no arguments. I’ll cancel my morning meetings and take you to the airport.”

I sighed, trying very hard not to roll my eyes too obviously.

“Phi… you can’t make every decision for me like that…”

He tensed. Clearly. Visibly.

“Did you forget who you belong to again?”

His hand tightened around my knee.

I swallowed.

I wasn’t his possession. He couldn’t control me like an object… right?

There was something in his eyes again — something storm-like — and I understood that whatever thoughts were racing through my head, I couldn’t allow that storm to break loose again.

I bit my lip and nodded.

“Alright. Fine. P’Aon can bring whatever I write down for him…”

Phayu said nothing and stood first.

“Come,” he said calmly.

I lifted my head.

“Where?”

“It’s my day off today. Which means I don’t have to leave you alone. Again.”

It didn’t sound like an invitation.

But it wasn’t an order either.

Something in between.

And somehow, that made my heart beat faster.

I nodded and stood, following him.

His office had always felt like the strangest room in the house. Even stranger than the Blue Room.

Everything there was perfectly organized. Cold. Precise. Not a single unnecessary detail. The space of someone who was used to controlling everything — from business to emotion.

I stopped near the doorway while he moved toward his desk.

“Sit,” he said without looking up.

I sat on the couch, trying to keep my posture straight.

I didn’t even notice how automatically I shifted into a more composed position — shoulders squared, knees together, palms resting neatly on my thighs.

He had never told me to sit like that.

But my body was already learning his rules.

Phayu stood near the panoramic window, lazily rotating a glass of water between his fingers.

He looked relaxed — almost deceptively calm. His day off showed in his movements.

No rush. No business calls. None of his usual cold concentration.

And yet…

He controlled the room just as confidently as if he were leading corporate negotiations.

I watched him silently. He didn’t look at me. Didn’t even turn around.

But it felt like he knew exactly where I sat. How I held my spine. How I swallowed occasionally. How my breathing hitched whenever he moved across the room.

The anticipation was almost unbearable.

After a while, he turned slowly.

His gaze found me instantly.

“Come here.”

Calm. No raised voice. No command.

But I was already standing.

I walked toward the desk and stopped beside it, unsure what to do with my hands.

Something trembled faintly inside me — not fear exactly. More like the constant tension that lived between us.

He studied me slowly.

Too carefully.

His eyes traced my shoulders, followed the line of my neck, paused at my lips, then returned to my eyes.

“You’re tense,” he said quietly.

I swallowed.

“I… I’m trying to behave properly.”

The corner of his mouth twitched, like he barely held back a smile.

He set the glass aside and stepped closer.

Too close.

“Rain…” His voice softened, but deepened. “You don’t have to be perfect.”

He reached out and touched my wrist.

His palm rested there — warm, steady, applying just enough pressure. Not restraining. Just marking a boundary.

Reminding me it existed.

I felt my pulse quicken beneath his fingers. Of course he noticed.

“But I like it when you try,” he added quietly.

The words filled me with a dangerous warmth.

And something anxious at the same time.

I lowered my gaze to his hand. I wanted to turn my palm upward and lace our fingers together.

Just like people did when they wanted to be closer.

But I didn’t move.

He noticed the hesitation.

Of course he did.

Phayu tilted his head slightly, studying me with unsettling precision, as if analyzing every microscopic movement in my expression.

“You think too loudly,” he said.

“I just…” I faltered. “I’m trying to understand where I’m allowed to be myself… and where I’m supposed to be who you want me to be.”

His fingers tightened slightly around my wrist. Not painful. But unmistakable.

“I want you to be real,” he said calmly. “Within the limits we create together.”

The words sounded comforting…

And frightening.

He slowly brushed his thumb along the inside of my wrist, where the skin was most sensitive.

I inhaled sharply before I could stop myself.

He heard it.

“Good boy,” he murmured, almost a whisper.

My mouth went dry instantly.

I hated how deeply those words affected me.

And at the same time, I wanted to hear them again.

He released my wrist suddenly — almost too abruptly, as if he’d realized how long he’d held the moment.

I nearly reached for his hand.

He stepped back, watching my reaction carefully.

“Sit next to me,” he said, softer now.

Not an order.

An invitation.

I sat beside him slowly, careful not to brush his shoulder, though the space between us still felt almost intimate.

The room filled with heavy, quiet silence.

He leaned back against the couch, stretching his arm along the backrest behind me — not touching, but creating the sensation that I was enclosed within the perimeter of his presence.

I felt the warmth of his body.

Heard the steady rhythm of his breathing.

And realized that even on his day off… even when he did nothing… I was still inside his gravity.

A soft knock came at the door.

“Come in,” Phayu said.

P’Aon stepped inside. His gaze paused on me for a fraction of a second before shifting immediately to Phayu.

“Khun, urgent message from the Singapore branch. They require direct confirmation from you.”

Phayu frowned slightly.

“Two minutes.”

He stood and looked at me.

“Stay here.”

I nodded.

He left with P’Aon, the door closing behind them, leaving the office submerged in silence.

Real silence.

Thick.

I sat for a few seconds, trying to steady my breathing.

Then I stood. Just to stretch. Just to avoid feeling like furniture inside a room built too perfectly.

I walked slowly along the shelves, studying them:  books, documents, folders arranged with almost unsettling precision.

Everything looked like it knew its place better than people did.

Until my eyes caught a cabinet along the far wall.

The door was slightly open.

Barely.

I froze.

It wasn’t my business. Not even remotely.

I already stepped back, intending to return to the couch… but stopped.

If the door remained open, Phayu might notice. Might assume I had opened it.

I approached carefully, reaching out to close it quietly—

And froze again.

Inside were folders.

Not work files. Not business contracts.

These folders were thick, dark, identical in format, arranged in rigid order, like an archive maintained with almost obsessive precision.

Curiosity stabbed too sharply.

I picked up the nearest one.

A name.

Age. Date.

I frowned and opened it.

Inside were pages of perfectly printed text. Short sections. Cleanly structured categories. Tables.

Preferences. Limits. Psychological observations. Health notes.

My fingers went cold.

I flipped the page.

A photograph. Detailed notes.

Comments written in neat, unmistakably familiar handwriting.

I shut the folder abruptly.

My heart pounded too loudly, but my hand moved toward the next one anyway.

Another name.

Another folder.

I skimmed faster. Then another. And another.

About ten.

Each labeled.

Each completed.

Each a carefully documented history of someone else’s body.

Someone else’s boundaries. Someone else’s emotions.

The air around me felt heavier.

I was about to put them back when I noticed one at the very end of the row.

It looked different. Slightly thinner. Slightly newer.

My name. My full name.

Varain Narakorn.

My heartbeat slammed so violently it stole my breath.

I pulled the folder out slowly, as if it might burn me.

Opened it.

My information.

Age. Work. University.

Even… dates of our meetings.

I swallowed, ears ringing.

Notes filled the lower half of the page. His handwriting. Familiar. Calm. Too certain.

“Highly responsive to voice control.”

My finger traced the line.

“Emotionally driven.”

My breathing faltered.

“Strong need for reassurance despite denial.”

I squeezed my eyes shut briefly — then kept reading, even though I knew I shouldn’t.

“Protective instinct triggered early.”

“Unaware of own submission patterns.”

My fingers trembled.

The final line was written slightly darker.

“Most dangerous variable: sincerity.”

I slammed the folder shut.

Noise roared inside my head.

I… wasn’t the first.

Of course I wasn’t. I knew that. Rationally. Logically. Like an adult.

But seeing it like this — systematic, precise, like a project, like an archive, like a meticulously documented history of bodies and emotions—

It hit deeper than I expected.

I returned the folder carefully, aligning it exactly as it had been. Checked the edges. Made sure nothing revealed I had touched it.

Closed the cabinet.

And at that exact moment, I heard footsteps outside the office door.

I moved quickly back to the couch, sitting down as if I had never left.

When Phayu entered, he looked as composed as ever. Controlled. Commanding the room with presence alone.

But his gaze found me immediately.

“Everything alright?”

I nodded too quickly.

“Yes.”

He studied me longer than usual. Too closely. Too precisely. As if sensing something had shifted in the air.

I lowered my gaze to my hands, trying to hide the trembling.

He approached slowly.

“Rain…”

I looked up.

And in that moment, It hit me. 

I had just seen a part of his life he might never have intended to show me.

An archive of people who had been here before me. People who had sat across from him. Who might have believed they were special, too.

I took a slow breath.

I had always known he had experience. Partners. A past. That none of this began with me.

But knowing…

And seeing…

Were entirely different things.

I looked at him, trying to understand where Phayu the Dominant ended… and where Phayu the man began.

And suddenly a thought settled cold inside me:

If I stay…

Will I become just another folder in that cabinet?

Or…The only one he will never be able to close?

Chapter Text

“Rain…?”

Phayu kept calling my name, but my mind was still trapped inside those folders.

I swallowed and cleared my throat.

No. I had no right to say anything to him about that. Not yet. At least not now.

“Oh — yes. Sorry, P’Phayu. I… I was just thinking. Everything’s fine. Did you… handle the issue?”

I let out a quiet breath.

It felt like my eyes were betraying me again — as if they revealed I was hiding something, or that I was upset — because Phayu kept looking at me like he was searching straight through to my soul.

“Yes,” he replied calmly. “It’s taken care of. No one will disturb us today.”

He continued to study me with that piercing gaze.

“Rain… what’s wrong?” he asked softly, stepping closer until he stood directly in front of me.

I rose abruptly from the couch and walked to the window, staring out at the garden.

My heart pounded wildly.

The thought that sooner or later I might become nothing more than another file in his archive refused to leave my mind.

Honestly, what I wanted most was to bury my face in his chest, break down, and beg him not to let me go.

But I couldn’t.

I wouldn’t allow myself to.

“Rain, you’re starting to scare me. What happened?” His voice lowered. “Did I… do something wrong?”

His hand settled gently on my waist.

Warm. Steady. Comforting.

As if he were grounding me — keeping me from drifting away, even just emotionally.

I swallowed and turned toward him abruptly.

“P’Phayu…” I hesitated, my voice quieter than I intended. “Can I see your garden?”

He froze.

Not abruptly — but as if my question had touched something deeply personal. Something unexpected.

“The garden?” he repeated quietly.

I nodded.

“It’s… nothing like the rest of the house.”

A pause followed.

He studied my face, as though trying to understand why I wanted this.

Then he slowly took my hand and led me toward the exit.

“Come.”

We went down to the first floor. He approached a glass door and opened it.

Warm air immediately brushed against my skin.

Phayu’s house had always felt cold to me — perfect, strict, almost frightening in its precision.

But here…

Here, it was warm.

The living warmth of earth after rain. Heavy tropical humidity. The soft rustle of leaves, like quiet breathing.

I took a few steps forward — and stopped.

“My God…”

Before me stretched a garden like a separate world hidden inside a concrete fortress.

A small pond reflected the sky like a mirror.

Large pink lotuses floated across its surface — so pure they looked newly created.

Beneath the water, golden koi moved slowly, lazily cutting through the clear surface.

Frangipani trees lined the stone paths. Their white flowers with golden centers rested on the grass, as if someone had carefully scattered light across the ground.

Orchids hung from the branches — fragile, almost impossible, so delicate they seemed unreal.

Everything here breathed with life.

With warmth.

With peace.

And suddenly I realized that, for the first time in a long while, I had stopped feeling tense around him.

I slowly turned around.

Phayu stood a few steps behind me.

He wasn’t looking at the garden.

He was watching me.

And his gaze was so attentive, so quiet — like someone observing a child seeing the ocean for the first time.

I walked to the pond, crouched down, and dipped my fingers into the water. The koi immediately swam closer, lazily brushing against my skin.

“Your house is so strict,” I said softly. “Stone. Glass. Clean lines. Everything under control.”

I looked at the blooming trees.

“But here… there’s so much warmth. So much color. So much life.”

I paused.

“It’s like behind all those walls there’s something very beautiful hidden.”

I turned toward him.

“Like… you.”

The words slipped out before I could stop them.

The silence thickened.

Even the wind seemed to still.

I saw Phayu inhale almost imperceptibly.

His shoulders tensed slightly.

Something flickered in his eyes — too alive for someone who controlled every movement.

He looked at me as if I had touched something forbidden.

As if I had seen him without his armor.

As if… I had confessed that I heard everything that night.

He slowly stepped closer.

“You see more than you should,” he said quietly.

“I’m just looking.”

“No.”

He shook his head.

“You look as if you want to understand. Don’t you?”

I swallowed but said nothing.

His voice lowered.

“That’s dangerous.”

“Why?”

“Because… no one has ever tried.”

I watched him.

And for the first time, I noticed the exhaustion in his eyes. Not physical.

Old. Deep. Moral.

“Why did you create this garden?” I asked carefully.

He was silent for a long time. Then just looked away.

He slowly sat beside me at the pond. His movements were unusually calm — almost gentle.

“When there is too much control around you,” he said quietly, looking at the water, “a person needs a place where they control nothing.”

I turned toward him.

“Everything here grows on its own. Blooms on its own. Dies on its own. I can’t force a flower to open faster.”

He brushed his fingers over a lotus petal, extremely carefully.

“It reminds me that not everything can be controlled.”

A pause.

“That sometimes… life happens without command.”

His voice faltered on the last word.

Something tightened painfully in my chest.

“You come here when things are hard?” I asked.

He nodded.

“When everything inside becomes too quiet.”

Those words sounded more frightening than any confession.

I carefully touched his hand.

He didn’t pull away.

Instead, he turned his palm and intertwined our fingers.

It was so unexpected that I froze.

And then something impossible happened.

Phayu smiled.

Not that familiar faint curve of his lips.

Not cold. Not controlled.

A real smile.

Soft. Warm. Slightly uncertain.

As if he himself had forgotten what it meant to smile like that.

My breath caught.

“You’re smiling…” I whispered.

He seemed almost embarrassed.

“You make me do strange things.”

“Like what?”

“Feel.”

He lifted his hand and gently touched my cheek.

“This garden,” he said quietly, “I created it over many years.”

His fingers barely brushed my skin.

“But it has never looked as alive as it does now.”

“Why?”

His gaze darkened.

“Because you look at it as if you see something good in me.”

My heart tightened painfully.

“I don’t see. I just feel.”

He suddenly pulled me closer and kissed me.

The kiss wasn’t possessive. Not demanding.

Deep. Warm. Desperately alive.

As if he feared the moment would disappear.

His arms tightened around me, his breathing growing heavy, and for the first time I felt not control in him — but need.

Real. Human.

When he pulled away, our foreheads rested together.

“You’re changing me,” he whispered.

There was fear in his voice.

And gratitude.

And something else he had not yet named.

“You say that almost every day,” I murmured. “And still… you don’t stop me. Why?”

He said nothing.

He simply sat beside me, looking at the pond, appearing like a lonely child.

I understood I wouldn’t receive an answer.

So I looked at the garden again.

At the flowers. The water. The light.

And I realized…

It was his soul, hidden behind walls.

And for the first time, he had allowed me to see it.

We stayed by the pond for a while longer, walking along the garden paths before eventually returning to the house.

The moment we stepped inside and Phayu closed the garden doors behind us, P’Aon immediately approached. A suitcase stood beside him.

Mine.

“Khun Rain, I brought the things you requested from your home for tomorrow’s flight.”

I nodded and smiled.

“Thank you very much. And… P’Aon, please — just call me Rain.”

Aon immediately glanced at Phayu, he simply gave a short nod.

Aon turned back to me and bowed respectfully.

“Of course, as you wish, Rain. I will take your things to your room.”

With that, he turned and headed upstairs.

Phayu looked at me and let out a soft sigh.

“Are you hungry?”

I nodded slightly.

“Yes… I think I could have something. Since you gave P’Mali the day off, maybe I can cook something?”

I smiled with sudden enthusiasm.

Phayu nodded.

“Yes… baby, the kitchen is yours.”

I blinked in surprise and looked at him, slightly confused.

“Baby…?”

“What? You don’t like it?”

I let out a small laugh.

“I do. But why suddenly start calling me like that?”

Phayu shrugged.

“Why not? If you had read the agreement more carefully, you would know that such forms of address are also permitted — with the submissive’s consent.”

I rolled my eyes without thinking and turned toward the kitchen.

“Alright, alright…”

Phayu chuckled and followed me. He took a seat at the kitchen island and began watching me while I opened the refrigerator and examined its contents.

“Do you want steak?” I asked, turning to look at him.

He nodded.

“Okay”

I nodded back and returned to cooking.

I prepared the meat, heated the pan, and arranged the other ingredients.

Soft music played quietly in the background, and Phayu… simply sat nearby, checking something on his laptop and watching me the entire time.

It almost felt like true domestic bliss.

For a moment, I felt like I was in a normal relationship.

After our conversation in the garden, I started thinking that maybe he might change his views on relationships — on love.

He had already allowed me to cook, called me baby, and that kiss by the pond…

There had been something more in it. I couldn’t have imagined that.

But I had to remind myself that this was only a trial period. And what would happen once I signed the contract — no one knew.

As if he had read my thoughts—

“Baby.”

I still wasn’t used to it. Not used to it — but it felt nice.

“Mm?” I turned to him.

He took a sip of water, and I could already see seriousness settling over his face.

“When you return from Korea, we’ll need to revisit the agreement. The trial period can’t last forever… especially considering this is a first for me.”

Of course.

Good thing I had stopped myself from drifting too far into fantasies — the ones where we lived together somewhere far from the city, in a house overlooking the sea.

I let out a quiet, nervous breath and simply nodded.

I didn’t want to argue. I didn’t want to ruin this day with a fight. I didn’t want another punishment. I didn’t want to make him angry or disappointed.

So—

“Alright.”

He nodded, and I returned to cooking.

I made two steaks, and we ate in comfortable silence, exchanging short remarks.

He showed me a model of a new building one of his teams was currently developing, pointed out its flaws, and grew slightly irritated again. I only laughed softly.

He really was strangely adorable when he got annoyed.

After some time, I stood up from the table.

Phayu immediately looked at me.

“Where are you going?”

“I want to check my room — to make sure P’Aon packed everything I asked for.”

Phayu nodded with satisfaction.

“Alright. I’ll go up to my office. I’ll be waiting for you when you’re done.”

I nodded.

“Of course.”

I went to my room and opened the suitcase and checked the contents.

Everything was there.

I swallowed.

That feeling returned again — the feeling that I didn’t want to leave.

Not now.

I didn’t want this distance between us. But distance would come anyway if I didn’t sign that damn agreement.

Damn it.

I couldn’t deny it anymore — it wasn’t just that I liked him.

I was falling for him.

Completely.

I closed the suitcase and picked up my phone.

Damn. Two missed calls from Sky.

I sighed and dialed his number.

The ringing stretched on unbearably long.

“Rain?!”

He answered almost immediately.

There was so much relief in his voice that my throat tightened.

“I’m here,” I said quietly.

“Are you even alive?” he breathed out. “I called you yesterday. And today. Where are you?”

“At Phayu’s.”

A pause. A long one.

“…I figured,” Sky finally said softly.

I pulled my knees to my chest.

“You’re back? How was the trip?”

And then his voice changed.

It softened. Warmed.

He started talking — about Prapai’s house in Phuket, about the sea, about how they barely slept, about how Prapai tried to teach him surfing and kept falling every five minutes himself.

How they ate street food late at night. How, for the first time, he felt…truly calm beside someone.

I listened and found myself smiling.

“He really takes care of me, Rain,” Sky said quietly. “No pressure. No games. Just… being there.”

Something inside me ached sharply.

The contrast.

I could see his relationship clearly — warm, natural, simple.

And then there was whatever I was caught in.

“I’m so happy for you, Sky ” I said sincerely.

“You sound strange.”

I tensed.

“What do you mean?”

“You sound like you’re smiling… and crying at the same time.”

I quickly turned toward the window.

“Everything’s fine.”

“Rain.”

He always said my name like that when he understood more than I wanted to show.

“Are you okay?”

I opened my mouth to answer — and realized my voice was shaking.

“I… don’t know.”

The silence on the line became soft, patient.

He didn’t push.

He just waited.

“Are you ready for your flight?” he asked carefully. “To Korea.”

I closed my eyes.

Korea.

Mom.

Leaving.

And Phayu.

“I leave tomorrow.”

“And him?”

Just one word.

But it carried so much meaning.

I tightened my fingers in the blanket.

“He…” My voice faltered. “He’s complicated.”

Sky exhaled quietly.

“Are you afraid of him?”

I immediately shook my head, as if he could see me.

“No.”

And that was the truth.

“Then what?”

I stayed silent for a long time.

How do you explain something that can’t be explained?

How do you describe someone who frightens you not with pain — but with the depth of his feelings?

“He looks at me like…” I whispered. “Like he sees everything I try to hide.”

“Is that bad?”

“It’s terrifying.”

“Why?”

I swallowed.

“Because when I’m with him, I stop understanding where I end and where he begins.”

Sky didn’t respond.

I could only hear his breathing.

“He doesn’t hurt me on purpose,” I continued quietly. “He just… lives this way. He controls everything. Even himself. Especially himself.”

My eyes started to sting.

“But sometimes he looks at me like he’s more afraid than I am.”

My voice broke.

I fell silent.

“Rain…”

There was so much tenderness in his voice that I couldn’t hold back anymore.

Tears rose on their own. I pressed my lips together, trying not to sob.

“I don’t understand what’s happening to me,” I whispered. “It’s like I should stay away from him, because… because I know that sooner or later I won’t be able to handle it. But I just… I can’t.”

“Are you falling in love?” Sky asked quietly.

My heart lurched painfully.

I didn’t answer.

And that was the answer.

A long pause.

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” he said finally.

I covered my face with my hand.

“I already am.”

“Then leave him.”

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

I let out a trembling breath.

“Because when he’s near… I feel seen. I feel like he needs me, you understand? I see how he’s fighting himself, fighting his demons. And what if he wins?”

Sky was silent for a long time.

Then he said gently:

“Then at least don’t lose yourself.”

I nodded, though he couldn’t see.

“I’m trying.”

“Rain,” he said softly, “just remember — you’re never alone. No matter where we are, I’m always here for you.”

He paused, then added gently,

“Don’t be afraid of pain. I know you’re strong. This is your first relationship — it’s natural to feel lost sometimes”

His voice softened even more.

“But the most important thing… you deserve to be happy. Don’t forget that.”

Those words hit the hardest.

I inhaled sharply.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“Rain.”

“Mm?”

“Whatever happens between you two… don’t let anyone take away your right to be yourself.”

I wiped my eyes.

“I promise.”

We talked a little longer — about small things, about work plans, about nonsense, about…life.

Like before.

Like always.

And when the call ended, I sat there for a long time, staring at the screen.

Sky was my home.

The only place where I could speak without fear.

The only person who knew me before Phayu.

And maybe the only one who would still recognize me after.

I rose slowly, set my phone down, and walked to the bathroom.

I splashed cold water on my face and stared at my reflection.

My emotions were stretched to their limit — everything had built up at once, and in that moment I understood only one thing.

Right now — in this exact moment — I wanted to stand beside the storm.

Beside Phayu.

I left the bathroom and headed for his office.

I didn’t even remember how I got there.

My chest was still trembling after the conversation with Sky. His words echoed inside me.

Fear. Desire. Need.

I stopped at the door without knocking.

I simply opened it.

Phayu was there.

He stood by the window with his back to me, as if he had sensed my presence long before I entered.

“Rain?”

He turned.

And that was enough.

Something inside me snapped.

I crossed the room almost blindly — and before I could change my mind, I grabbed the collar of his shirt and kissed him.

Hard. Deep. Desperate.

Phayu froze.

Completely.

His body went still, as if he had forgotten how to breathe.

But a second later I felt his hands settle carefully on my shoulders — not pushing me away, but holding me at a distance.

He slowly pulled back.

His gaze was dark. Sharp. Disturbed.

“What happened?”

His voice was low. Controlled. Dangerously calm.

I was breathing hard.

“I want to be close to you.”

The words slipped out on their own.

He went even more still.

“Rain…”

“I want to try.”

His brows drew together slightly.

“Try what?”

Heat rushed to my cheeks. I bit my lip and lowered my gaze. Saying it out loud felt almost impossible.

But I had to.

“I want to… make you feel good.”

Silence.

The air between us thickened.

“The way you do for me,” I whispered.

He didn’t move.

At all.

“I want…” my voice trembled, “to give you pleasure.”

I forced myself to meet his eyes.

“I want to… go down on you.”

Phayu turned away sharply.

He stepped back, dragging a hand through his hair — a rare gesture that betrayed his inner struggle.

“You don’t understand what you’re asking.”

“I do.”

“No.”

He turned back to me, a storm raging in his eyes.

“You’re offering me a kind of power I never take.”

“Why?”

“Because it changes the boundaries.”

He spoke quietly, but every word sounded like a warning.

“My submissives don’t do that for me. They submit to the scene. Not to me.”

I swallowed.

“But I want to do it for you.”

That broke something in him.

I saw it.

For the first time — a real fracture in his control.

“Rain…” his voice turned rough. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me right now.”

“Then let me find out,” I whispered. “Please, P’Phayu.”

His breathing deepened. He watched me like a man deciding whether to hold himself back or give in.

“This isn’t part of the trial period,” he said quietly. “It’s not written in the agreement.”

“Then let it be an exception,” I said softly. “Just… just once.”

“You’re asking me to lose control.”

I answered just as quietly:

“You never lose control.”

And that, it seemed, finally broke him.

He stepped closer.

Too close.

His fingers touched my chin, lifting my face.

“If I allow this,” he said quietly, “you will do it by my rules.”

I nodded, barely breathing.

“You don’t touch my chest.”

His voice was firm. Absolute. No room for compromise.

“You focus only on what I permit.”

His tone dropped lower.

“And you stop when I tell you to.”

“Okay,” I whispered.

He closed his eyes for a moment, as if gathering the last fragments of his control.

When he opened them again, his gaze was different. Darker. Deeper.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Rain… this is not just an act.”

“I know.”

I stepped closer.

“I want to do this for you.”

Phayu exhaled slowly.

And nodded.

“Alright.”

The word sounded like surrender.

And like a promise.

He stepped back, giving me space — but his gaze never left me for a second.

“Then come here.”

Phayu slipped off his training pants and sat down on the couch, spreading his legs slightly as he slowly lifted his gaze to me.

My mouth went dry instantly.

That look — predatory, curious, burning with something dark and consuming — pinned me in place.

“Kneel in front of me.”

I walked toward him slowly, my pulse hammering in my ears, and lowered myself between his legs.

My hands rested on the waistband of his boxers.

He leaned down slightly, his fingers sliding beneath my chin, lifting my face toward him.

His thumb began tracing slowly over my lips, testing, feeling the soft movement of my breath.

“You’ve never done this before either, have you?”

I only nodded, unable to look away from him.

“Good… open your mouth.”

I parted my lips, hesitant but obedient, and he slid his thumb inside.

My lips closed around it instinctively, my tongue moving over his skin.

Phayu exhaled softly, a faint, satisfied smile touching his mouth.

“You may touch my legs… up to my upper abdomen. Not a single inch higher. Do you understand?”

I nodded again.

“Mhm…”

“Good boy.”

He withdrew his finger, leaned closer, and kissed me — slow, deliberate, claiming,  before settling back against the couch, his throat moving as he swallowed heavily.

“Take them off.”

My fingers hooked into the waistband of his boxers.

As I pulled them down, his cock sprang free — already hard, flushed, heavy with heat.

For a moment I simply stared.

I had never seen him like this.

Never this close.

My hand closed carefully around the base, my lips parting slightly as I looked up at him for permission.

Phayu gave a small nod.

“Start from the top. Slowly. Hide your teeth.”

I swallowed and pressed my lips to the tip, almost like a kiss.

He exhaled and leaned back further.

Carefully, I began moving my tongue, kissing and licking the sensitive head, learning him through taste and touch.

My other hand rested on his thigh, but he took it gently in his own, lacing our fingers together.

His breathing remained controlled — but heavy.

I swallowed and slowly took more of him into my mouth, sucking carefully, using my tongue while my hand moved in rhythm. I tried to remember how he had touched me, copying the sensations he had once given.

A low sound escaped him.

“Ah…”

The deep, rough note sent a shiver down my spine, heat pooling sharply between my legs.

I looked up at him.

“Is this okay…?” I asked quietly.

He nodded.

“Yes… you’re doing well. Everything’s fine. Carefully — protect your throat. Don’t take too much so you don’t choke.”

I nodded and returned to him, continuing slowly, working my tongue over the sensitive tip.

His quiet sounds, restrained yet impossible to hide, felt like music in my ears.

I tightened my grip slightly and took him deeper, breathing only through my nose, pushing toward my limit. When I reached it, I stayed there, teasing him with small movements of my tongue.

He released my hand and slid his fingers into my hair, gripping lightly.

“Th-that’s it… yes… good… ah—”

I continued, my eyes beginning to fill with tears from the unfamiliar stretch, a dull ache forming in my throat — but I didn’t want to stop.

I lifted my head slightly, letting some of him slip free while still working the sensitive tip with my tongue.

At some point, a faint taste spread across my tongue — salty, warm, with a subtle sweetness beneath it.

His taste.

I squeezed his thigh gently and looked up at him.

He looked completely lost.

His eyes half-closed, head tilted back, control slipping from his expression.

Then he lifted his head, as if sensing my gaze, and exhaled sharply.

“Stop… that’s enough, Rain.”

I obeyed immediately, releasing him, though my hand still held him loosely.

He was breathing hard.

I licked my lips — and something in him seemed to snap.

He suddenly leaned forward, gripping my waist and lifting me as he stood.

“Ah—!” I cried out in surprise.

Instinctively, I wrapped my arms around his neck, my legs locking around his hips.

He crashed into my mouth in a burning kiss, so intense that my breath — which had never fully recovered — shattered again completely.

He carried me to the table, sweeping the papers from its surface with one sharp motion before setting me down on the cool wood.

He pulled away from my lips, and we both gasped for air, breathing heavily, greedily.

I was unbearably aroused. My cheeks burned, my entire body trembling. One look from him was enough to undo me completely.

He was clearly affected too — even more than I was.

Phayu took both my hands and pushed them above my head.

“Hold them there. Tight. Do you understand?”

I nodded quickly.

“Y-yes… yes, Phi. I’ll hold them.”

He positioned himself between my legs and swiftly pulled down my pants along with my boxers.

 I glanced down and saw my own erection, flushed and painfully hard.

Yes. I was completely undone.

He gently bent my knees and drew me closer to the edge of the table.

I kept my hands clasped above my head, watching his every movement.

“Rain, baby… I don’t have any lubricant here. Can I use saliva?”

I swallowed. It was new, unfamiliar — but I couldn’t think about anything else.

“Yes, Phi… you can… green.”

He nodded, spat into his hand, and spread the moisture over my entrance.

I swallowed. It felt intimate, raw — both filthy and strangely tender.

God, it made my head spin.

“Ah!”

I cried sharply, biting my lip and throwing my head back as he suddenly pushed two fingers inside me, moving them slowly, carefully stretching me open.

I couldn’t hold back the soft sounds that escaped me. After hearing his moans earlier when I had touched him, I finally understood why he told me never to suppress my voice.

He continued moving his fingers inside me.

“Ah… ah… P’Phayu… Phi… mmh…”

He curled his fingers, brushing my prostate.

The sensation shot through my entire body like lightning. I tried to breathe, but I didn’t need air.

I needed him inside me.

Now.

Immediately.

“Ah… ah… P’Phayu… please…”

The words died in my throat.

“You’re still slightly stretched from this morning…”

I swallowed.

Right.

“Phi…”

He withdrew his fingers and captured my lips in a deep kiss, exploring my mouth.

“Baby…” he murmured softly as he pulled back.

“Baby, I don’t have condoms here… I need to step away for a moment.”

“N-no!” I breathed, my eyes widening in sudden panic.

“No, please, P’Phayu, don’t go anywhere… we can… we can do it without one, right? P-please…”

He swallowed.

“Rain, no. That’s… against the rules. It’s not safe.”

My eyes burned with tears. The need inside me only grew stronger, overwhelming everything else.

“Please, P’Phayu, don’t leave… it’s okay, just—just once. I trust you. Please… Phi…”

He stepped back slightly, running a hand through his hair, looking away as he struggled with himself.

“Damn it,” he muttered, then looked back at me.

I lay before him — my shirt pushed up, my nipples hardened from the cool air, my erection aching, my breathing uneven, my lips flushed as I licked them unconsciously, watching him in silent, desperate plea.

“This will not happen again,” he said.

I nodded quickly, desperately.

He spat into his hand again, coated himself, and pressed the head of his cock against my entrance.

My heartbeat surged violently.

He leaned down, gripping my waist with a crushing hold, and began to push inside.

My eyes rolled back instantly as my head fell against the table.

“Oh God— God… ah—” I moaned helplessly.

The sensation was overwhelming.

Feeling him without any barrier between us was something I couldn’t even put into words.

His grip tightened on my waist, and through my haze of pleasure I heard his deep, broken groan. He bent over me, his lips pressing into my neck.

He sank fully inside me, paused for only a few seconds — and then began to move.

Deep, slow thrusts. Deliberate. Powerful.

He straightened slightly, his hands still gripping my waist before he leaned down to press a brief kiss to my thigh.

I couldn’t stop moaning. The sensations were indescribable.

The thought that there was nothing between us — nothing at all — intoxicated my mind.

Heat spread through my body, the pressure building higher and higher.

He changed the angle slightly —

“Ah! Phi— Phayu— yes!”

“Baby…”

His voice was low, dark.

“Look at me. Only at me. Into my eyes — nowhere else.”

I forced my gaze up to meet his, clenching my hands tightly to keep from reaching for him.

Every thrust struck my prostate perfectly, sending violent shocks through my body.

My skin was covered in goosebumps, but looking into his eyes felt more intense than anything else happening between us.

His pupils were black.

They always were — but never like this.

Never this consuming.

“Baby… don’t look away,” he warned, squeezing my thigh.

I nodded without breaking eye contact.

He wrapped his hand around my erection and began to stroke me.

My vision blurred with tears, my eyes burning, but I couldn’t close them.

The heat became unbearable. My body began to shake uncontrollably.

I was about to break.

“Phi… P’Phayu… Phi…” I whimpered, my voice collapsing into a sob.

“Come on, baby,” he murmured. “Cum for me.”

I shattered instantly.

I tried to keep looking at him, but my eyes squeezed shut as the sensation overwhelmed me completely.

I cried out loudly, my lungs burning as I struggled to breathe through the intensity.

When I opened my eyes again, he thrust into me once more — deep, almost pushing me toward another climax.

Then suddenly pulling out and spilling over my stomach.

A soft smile slipped onto my lips.

He rested his forehead against my thigh, breathing hard, trying to steady himself.

And I felt as if I were floating — weightless, suspended somewhere between exhaustion and overwhelming warmth.

For a long moment neither of us moved.

Phayu’s breathing slowly steadied.

He reached for a cloth from the desk, carefully cleaning the mess from my skin, his touch almost reverent. When he finished, he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me into his chest.

“Easy,” he murmured against my hair.

My body still trembled, but the storm inside me quieted.

He pressed a slow kiss to my temple, one hand moving soothingly along my back, grounding me with each gentle touch.

I rested against him, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

The fear, the hunger, the storm inside me — everything fell silent.

There was only warmth.

Only stillness.

And the fragile, unfamiliar certainty that in his arms, at least for this moment, nothing could touch me.

Chapter Text

I woke up from thirst.

My throat was so dry it felt as I had been screaming in my sleep.

The memories returned slowly, piece by piece.

I remembered what Phayu and I had done in his office—more specifically, what I had done.

It wasn’t surprising at all that my throat ached faintly now, that it felt raw and completely parched.

I opened my eyes and lay there for a few seconds, listening to the silence of the house.

The clock showed nearly three in the morning. The air felt thick, unmoving, too quiet.

I ran my tongue over my dry lips and carefully slipped out of bed.

At night, the house felt different—larger, almost unfamiliar.

The corridors were washed in soft, dim light, and every step I took sounded too loud, as if I were disturbing someone else’s sleep.

I walked down the stairs thinking only about a glass of water.

And then I heard it.

A muffled sound from below.

Strained.

Like someone trying to scream but unable to.

I froze.

My heart slammed against my ribs.

Again.

A hoarse, choked cry.

His name left my lips before I could think:

“P’Phayu…?”

I descended the rest of the stairs.

The living room was submerged in soft shadows.

And there, on the couch, was him.

Phayu was asleep.

But this wasn’t rest.

It was a fight.

His body was rigid with tension—shoulders drawn tight, fingers clenched in spasms, breath ragged like someone trying to break free from something unseen.

A sheen of sweat glistened at his temples, his brows pulled together so tightly a deep shadow lay between them.

“No…” slipped from his lips in a hoarse whisper.

The sound was too helpless.

Too broken.

Nothing like the Phayu I knew.

My chest tightened painfully.

I moved closer, very slowly, as though afraid of frightening him further.

I knew his rules.

Don’t touch. Don’t invade. Don’t cross into his space.

But he was alone inside his nightmare.

And I couldn’t just stand there.

I lowered myself beside the couch.

My hands hovered in the air.

Could I? Did I have the right?

I chose the safest option.

Very carefully, I touched his arm—barely there, only with the tips of my fingers.

“P’Phayu…” I whispered. “You’re home. It’s okay.”

He jolted sharply.

His breathing hitched; his body tensed even more, as if the contact had frightened him at first.

I almost pulled my hand away.

But then he stilled.

As if he felt it.

As if he recognized it.

“No one’s touching you,” I continued softly. “It’s over.”

I didn’t know what he was dreaming about.

But somehow I was sure those were the words he needed.

His fingers twitched.

His breathing slowly deepened.

I didn’t move, only very gently brushed my fingers along his arm—not gripping, not taking his hand, just close enough to remind him someone was there.

“You’re not alone…” I whispered.

His shoulders jerked, as if he were fighting off invisible hands.

I was about to pull away—but I didn’t get the chance.

His eyes flew open.

He sat up abruptly—disoriented, breathing hard, his gaze full of raw panic.

He didn’t see the room.

He didn’t see me.

He saw something else. Something from his past.

And before he could regain control—before the familiar cold mask could settle back over his face—he reached for me.

Like someone drowning.

His arms wrapped around me.

Tight.

Desperate.

As if I were the only thing keeping him here.

I froze.

My breath caught in my throat.

This wasn’t the Dom. Not the man of control.

This was someone frightened. Fractured. Almost a child.

I didn’t know if I was allowed to return the embrace.

If I was allowed to touch him.

But I couldn’t leave him like that either.

So very carefully, I closed my arms around him—not pressing, not restraining, only creating a space where he could lean.

Not breaking his boundaries.

Not taking control away.

Just… there.

His breath was hot against my neck.

Uneven. Shaking.

I felt how tense his body was, how it slowly began to loosen—gradually, painfully, like he was relearning how to breathe.

The room was silent.

Only his breathing.

Only our closeness.

After a few seconds—or minutes, I couldn’t tell—he pulled back slightly.

Not fully.

His forehead rested against my shoulder.

When he spoke, his voice was quiet. Barely audible.

“…thank you.”

One word.

Rough.

Unprotected.

Something inside me tightened painfully.

“It’s okay,” I whispered.

I didn’t stroke him. Didn’t touch him more than he allowed.

But I stayed.

Gradually, I felt the moment he became aware of what he was doing.

His body stiffened.

His hands loosened.

He pulled away sharply, as if remembering who he was.

Control returned almost instantly—like a door slamming shut.

He turned away.

Ran a hand over his face.

Pulled himself back together.

When he looked at me again, the familiar cold restraint was back in his eyes.

But his breathing still betrayed him.

“It was a dream,” he said quietly.

I nodded.

We both knew it was more than that.

An uneasy silence settled between us.

Fragile.

Awkward.

The kind where both people pretend nothing happened.

I stood slowly.

“If it happens again…” I said carefully, “just… let me be close to you.”

He didn’t answer.

But for a fraction of a second, his gaze faltered.

And I knew—he had heard me.

Eventually, I returned to my room without drinking any water.

Lying in the dark, I couldn’t close my eyes for a long time.

The moment replayed again and again—when he held me without control, without role, without armor.

And I realized again:

His dominance wasn’t power.

It was armor.

And I was beginning to crack it.

This time, I woke up gently.

Soft morning light slipped through the curtains, washing the room in warm golden tones.

The night felt almost unreal now.

As if his cry, his arms around me, his quiet thank you—had only been a dream.

But the memory of his warmth still lived somewhere beneath my skin.

I exhaled slowly and sat up.

The shower helped me gather myself.

Warm water streamed over my shoulders, washing away the remnants of sleep and the tangled thoughts that threatened to return.

I stood under it longer than necessary, letting myself not think about the flight, or the conversation with my mother, or what had happened between Phayu and me last night—early this morning.

Today, I just needed to get through the day.

Survive the flight. Smile at my mom. Turn off the endless spiral in my head, even if only for a while.

I was afraid of only one thing—if she noticed. And she probably would.

If she asked whether there was someone in my life now… what would I say?

Yes, Mom, there’s someone who completely turns my world upside down. He’s just slightly—just a little—emotionally unstable. Oh, and I signed an NDA, so I’m not even sure I’m allowed to talk about him.

I took a deep breath.

And let it out just as slowly.

Okay. Calm down. Everything’s fine. I’ll deal with that when the plane lands in Korea.

When I got dressed and stepped out of my room, the house was already quietly awake.

I went downstairs and was greeted by the aroma of coffee and fresh food.

The table was set perfectly—like a scene from a magazine spread.

Porcelain dishes, neatly folded napkins, plates arranged with fruit, rice, omelet, and warm side dishes.

And, of course, Mali. Wait, Mali?

“Good morning, Rain.”

“Good morning, P’Mali.”

She gave me a small respectful bow.

“P'Mali… why are you still here? Isn’t today your daughter’s birthday? Didn’t P'Phayu give you the day off?”

Mali offered a gentle smile.

“He did. But… she won’t be free until later in the evening, so I decided to work until noon.”

I sighed softly and nodded.

“Khun Phayu left early for a meeting. He’ll be back in about an hour and will personally drive you to the airport.”

I nodded.

Of course. He had already made that clear—especially when he’d nearly lost control over the news of my departure.

He would never let me leave any other way.

“Thank you.”

I sat down, feeling an unexpected warmth at how everything had already been prepared.

These… days had been so intense that, honestly, I almost felt at home here.

Sure, the fact that I still slept in a separate room from Phayu felt strange.

But overall… it felt good here.

Calm.

For a while, I ate in silence.

But Mali seemed more talkative than usual.

“You’re flying to Korea, right?” she asked carefully.

“Yes.”

“You haven’t been in a long time?”

I paused.

“A few years… probably. We used to go often when I was a kid. My mom lives there. We’d visit my grandmother a lot, but then work got in the way. And… since my parents divorced, I haven’t been able to visit her yet.”

A flicker of genuine curiosity crossed her eyes.

“I’ve always dreamed of seeing Korea,” she admitted shyly. “They say it’s beautiful. Especially in spring.”

“It is,” I smiled. “There are places where the air smells like flowers—even in the city.”

“Really?” she leaned forward slightly.

“Mhm. And the street food… the city lights at night… the mountains near the sea. Sometimes it feels like the whole world is a little softer there.”

She sighed quietly.

“Maybe one day.”

“I think you’d love it,” I said sincerely.

Mali smiled at me—warmly, almost motherly.

“Thank you for sharing that with me. The house… it feels more alive when you talk.”

I felt my cheeks warm.

“I just ramble.”

“No, dear,” she corrected gently. “I’ve said this before, but you… bring light here. I truly hope to see you back after you return.”

Her words warmed my chest unexpectedly.

I tensed slightly.

What would happen when I returned?

I would go back to my apartment. I’d only be able to come here again if I signed the agreement.

Phayu hadn’t brought that up again for nothing.

My heart began to beat faster.

I must have stared into space too long, because Mali carefully placed a hand on my shoulder.

“Rain… are you alright? Do you feel unwell?”

“Ah—no, no, I’m fine. Thank you for breakfast, P’Mali. I’ll… go make sure everything’s packed.”

She nodded and began clearing the plates.

I went back upstairs.

The suitcase stood against the wall—neat, packed, too final.

I checked everything again. Adjusted the folded clothes. Double-checked my documents.

My phone vibrated.

A message from Sky.

“Have a safe flight. Call me when you land.”

I smiled.

“Always. Thank you. Miss you.”

He immediately sent a heart.

As if he could feel my mood without me saying anything.

I looked around the room one more time.

A few days ago, this space had felt foreign.

Now it held my belongings. My scent. My memories.

I slowly closed the suitcase.

The click of the lock sounded too loud.

Like a period at the end of a sentence.

There was a knock at the door.

I turned.

Aon stood in the doorway—calm, composed, as always.

“Khun—my apologies—Rain,” he corrected smoothly. “Khun Phayu has returned. He’s ready to take you to the airport.”

For some reason, my heart skipped.

I nodded.

“Thank you.”

Aon lifted my suitcase effortlessly and stepped ahead to lead the way.

I lingered for a second.

Looked back at the room.

At the morning light.

At the quiet house.

And only then did I follow him.

Downstairs.

To him.

Phayu was waiting by the entrance.

He stood leaning against the car, dressed in a dark shirt without a jacket, the collar slightly undone — calm, composed, far too handsome for the softness of the morning light.

When he saw me, his expression changed instantly.

His gaze softened.

Warmed.

He approached first.

“Good morning,” he said quietly.

Before I could answer, his hand rose to my cheek.

He leaned in and kissed me — slow, deep, unhurried, as if he were committing the moment to memory.

Not demanding. Not claiming.

Remembering.

When he pulled back, his fingers still lingered at my neck.

“How was your morning?”

I swallowed.

“Ev–everything’s good. Calm.”

He searched my eyes carefully, as if weighing the truth of every word.

Finding what he wanted there, he nodded to Aon. Aon placed my suitcase in the trunk.

“Khun,” Aon said softly.

“We’ll follow behind you.”

Phayu gave a small nod. Aon returned to his car, and I turned back to him.

“Why is P’Aon following us?”

Phayu opened the car door for me.

“Safety comes first. Get in.”

I wanted to argue.

To say something, anything — but I already knew he would only shut me down.

So I silently slid into the car.

The interior was quiet.

The road flowed past the windows — the city waking, streets filling with light, noise, people. But inside the car, there was another world.

Ours.

We spoke a little.

“You took everything?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Passport.”

“Yes.”

A pause.

“Call me when you land. Immediately.”

I let out a small laugh.

“What’s funny?” Phayu glanced at me.

“Nothing, Phi’. As if I wouldn’t text you. Worst case, you’d pull every string you have and the airline would personally report our landing to you.”

He raised an eyebrow slightly and returned his attention to the road.

“Baby, don’t you think you’re getting a little bold?”

His voice remained calm, but something beneath it sharpened.

“We still have time. I can stop the car and properly spank you for that.”

I bit my lip, smiling.

“Maybe that’s exactly what I want…”

His hands tightened around the steering wheel.

Silence followed. Only soft music filled the space between us.

I exhaled and looked at him again.

I… wanted to talk. To clear the weight that pressed against my chest before I left.

“P’Phayu… don’t you want to talk about what happened last night?”

His expression changed instantly.

The warmth disappeared.

His gaze turned cold.

“No,” he said. “I don’t. And you should forget about last night.”

I swallowed.

“Why…?”

“Because it’s not something you should concern yourself with.”

His voice was flat. Final.

I looked away.

Arguing was pointless — especially when we were already approaching the airport.

The car turned sharply.

I glanced back at him.

We had arrived, but not at the main entrance.

Instead, we stopped at a separate terminal — quiet, almost empty, all glass and polished floors, staff in perfectly pressed suits waiting by the doors.

I frowned.

“P’Phayu… did you make a mistake? We’re definitely not supposed to be here.”

“No,” he said calmly. “Everything is correct.”

He stepped out, walked around the car, and opened my door.

“I upgraded your ticket.”

I blinked.

“What…?”

“Business class.”

The world seemed to pause.

“You did what?”

He simply walked to the trunk and lifted out my suitcase.

I stepped out slowly, still staring at him in disbelief.

“Your flight should be as comfortable as possible,” he said evenly, “so I don’t have to worry about your condition.”

I didn’t move.

“P’Phayu, I didn’t ask for this. And how did you even manage that?”

“You didn’t need to ask. I asked Aon for your passport and your flight details.”

“That’s— that’s unbelievable. P’Phayu, are you out of your mind?!”

My voice broke.

“This isn’t care anymore — it’s not even control. You did this without even asking me!”

He froze.

Then slowly turned toward me.

His gaze darkened — colder, deeper, dangerous.

He stepped closer. Close enough that I could feel the heat of him.

“One more word,” he murmured, leaning near my ear, “and I’ll spank you right here. In front of everyone. I’m not joking.”

A chill ran down my spine.

Not a threat.

A promise.

I fell silent immediately.

He watched me for a moment longer, something conflicted flickering behind his eyes.

Then he exhaled slowly and dragged a hand over his face.

And for the first time, I realized — this was difficult for him too.

We entered the terminal.

The staff greeted us politely, checked documents, processed the luggage.

Everything moved too quickly, too smoothly — as if the world itself bent to Phayu’s will.

And beside him, I felt a strange storm growing inside me:

Anger.

Fear.

Attachment.

The overwhelming desire to stay.

When everything was finished, we stopped at the entrance to the departure area.

Beyond that point, I had to go alone.

The silence between us became almost tangible.

I studied him, trying to memorize every detail — the line of his shoulders, the tension in his jaw, the restraint in every movement.

He broke the silence first.

“Rain. Baby.”

His voice was lower than usual.

“Yes?”

He stepped closer.

“Don’t forget who you belong to.”

The words struck straight through my chest.

Something inside me clenched painfully — because part of me wanted to answer you.

But I said nothing.

He lifted a hand and gently brushed a strand of hair from my face.

Not possessive. Almost tender.

“Call me when you land.”

“I will.”

“And be careful.”

I laughed softly.

“It’s Korea, not a battlefield.”

“For me,” he said quietly, “it is.”

I froze.

The moment stretched.

Too much left unsaid.

Too many feelings pressing against the surface.

I stepped forward and, for the first time, wrapped my arms around him.

Carefully. Almost hesitantly.

His body went rigid — then he slowly returned the embrace, holding me tighter than his own rules allowed.

His breath brushed my neck.

“Come back to me,” he whispered.

Not an order. A plea.

I pulled away first.

Because if I stayed even one second longer, I wouldn’t have been able to leave.

I stepped back.

Then another.

He remained where he was, watching.

Controlling. Letting go.

And that act of letting go cost him more than any show of power ever could.

When I passed through security and turned back one last time, he was still there.

Alone.

Unmoving.

Perfectly restrained.

I wanted to return to him even before the plane had taken off.

I walked through the terminal like someone who had accidentally wandered into the wrong life.

The business lounge looked like a place where the air itself cost more than my monthly salary.

Glass.

Soft lighting.

People in perfectly tailored suits who looked like they had never run for a bus in their lives.

I stopped at the entrance.

“Your boarding pass, please.”

I handed it over with the expression of someone about to be exposed.

The woman smiled politely.

“Welcome, Khun Varain.”

Khun. Varain.

I stepped inside feeling like a child who had somehow been allowed into a museum without a ticket.

The first thing I saw was the food.

So much food.

Free food.

I froze in front of the dessert table.

“All of this… I can take?”

The attendant smiled gently.

“Of course.”

Of course.

I took a plate.

Then another.

Then coffee. Then juice. Then another dessert.

If Phayu intended to spoil me — I was going to make full use of it.

I settled by the window overlooking the runway.

My phone vibrated.

Phayu: Are you inside? Did you check in?

I rolled my eyes, smiling.

Yes.

Ten seconds later:

Phayu: Did you eat?

I laughed out loud.

God.

Yes. I’ve eaten half the lounge. The desserts here are amazing.

A pause.

Phayu: Don’t exaggerate.

I tried three desserts. That counts.

A long pause.

I snorted.

“He’s seriously…”

But warmth spread through my chest.

Too much warmth.

When I boarded the plane, a flight attendant greeted me as if I were actually someone important.

“Welcome, Khun Varain.”

She guided me to my seat.

I stopped.

It wasn’t a seat.

It was… a small apartment.

The chair reclined completely.

A massive screen. A pillow. A blanket.

Even a set of buttons whose purpose I was honestly afraid to discover.

I sat down cautiously.

Pressed a button.

The seat began to move.

I yelped and quickly pressed it again.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry”

The flight attendant smiled kindly.

“Would you like me to show you how the system works?”

“Yes, please. Before I break something.”

My phone vibrated again.

Phayu: Are you on board?

I took a photo of the seat.

This should be illegal. I basically have my own apartment here.

The reply came quickly.

Phayu: Are you satisfied?

I froze.

Not are you comfortable.

Not is everything alright.

Satisfied.

I stared at the screen.

Yes. Of course.

I exhaled, then added:

Thank you, P’Phayu.

A pause.

Phayu: Good. I’m glad.

Nothing more.

And yet that simple good tightened something painfully inside my chest.

When the plane began to move, a strange emptiness settled inside me.

Too quiet. Too far from him.

I fastened my seatbelt, gripping the strap tighter than necessary.

For the first time in a long while, his gaze wasn’t beside me.

His presence.

His control.

And that absence was… frightening.

The plane lifted from the ground.

The city shrank beneath the clouds.

And with it, my certainty seemed to shrink too.

When the seatbelt sign turned off, I reclined the seat almost fully.

Too comfortable

Too soft.

Too much space for thoughts.

And then the thoughts came.

Immediately. Mercilessly.

What am I doing?

I closed my eyes.

His face at the airport appeared instantly.

Come back to me.

Not an order. A plea.

Why did that sound more terrifying?

I ran a hand over my face.

I hadn’t even signed the contract. I was still on a trial period.

Technically, I was still free.

So why did it feel like part of me had remained there beside him?

I remembered the folders. The other people. The other submissives.

Cards. Records. Observations.

I wasn’t the first. Of course I wasn’t.

Rationally, that was normal.

But something inside me tightened painfully.

I was just another variable.

Another project.

Another experiment.

I leaned my head back against the pillow.

Why did I want to submit?

Why did his voice in my mind feel like safety?

Why did the thought of him waiting for me make my heart race?

I squeezed my eyes shut.

This wasn’t normal. It wasn’t healthy.

It was dangerous.

And yet—

I remembered the way he held me.

How he had barely restrained himself. How afraid he had been to let me go.

Maybe he was dependent too. Maybe he was afraid as well.

The thought was almost comforting.

And that frightened me more than anything.

I turned toward the window.

The clouds were soft.

Endless.

Freedom should look like this.

Light. Boundless.

Then why did I feel lost without his hands around my wrists?

A quiet breath escaped me.

“What’s happening to me…”

The flight attendant brought a drink.

I smiled, thanked her, took a sip.

The taste was perfect.

Inside me — a storm.

If I signed the contract, I would change.

He had said so.

He had been honest.

And the most frightening part was that I wanted to know who I would become.

Or did I not? Or did I simply want him to remain in my life?

I closed my eyes.

His face rose in my mind.

His voice. His hands. His pain.

His confession, spoken in the night when he thought I was asleep.

And suddenly it became clear.

I wasn’t afraid of him.

I was afraid that I loved him.

The plane continued forward.

And for the first time, I truly didn’t know where my life was going.

At some point, I drifted off.

I woke when a flight attendant politely asked me to fasten my seatbelt — we were already beginning our descent.

A few minutes later, the plane touched down softly, almost imperceptibly.

I watched through the window as Incheon Airport slowly came into view, and a strange feeling suddenly settled inside me — as if I were crossing not just a country’s border, but the border of my own life.

Home.

And at the same time — escape.

The airport was loud, bright, overwhelmingly alive after the sterile silence of the plane.

People spoke quickly, laughed, moved around me in an endless stream.

I passed through passport control almost automatically, collected my luggage, called a taxi.

Only after settling into the back seat did I finally exhale.

The driver spoke in Korean, asking for the address, confirming the district.

I answered, forcing my mind to switch languages — though for some reason everything in my head still sounded like Phayu’s voice.

The car started moving.

Seoul outside the window pulsed with neon and life.

And only then I remembered.

My phone.

Oh— shit, shit, shit.

Airplane mode. I had forgotten to turn it off.

The phone practically exploded in my hands.

Messages. Missed calls. Notifications.

All from one name.

Phayu.

My heart dropped.

I immediately pressed call.

He answered on the second ring.

“Where were you?”

His voice was cold. Too calm. Dangerous.

I swallowed.

“P’Phayu… I just landed not long ago. My phone was on airplane mode.”

A pause.

Heavy breathing on the other end.

“You should have messaged immediately after landing.”

“I’m sorry… I just… got overwhelmed.”

I stared at the city lights flashing past the window.

“I’m already in a taxi. Heading to my mom’s house.”

The silence on the line softened slightly.

“You’re alone?”

“Yes.”

“Is the driver reliable?”

A nervous laugh escaped me.

“Phi… it’s just a taxi.”

He didn’t respond for several seconds.

“Text me when you arrive.”

Again, it didn’t sound like an order.

It sounded like a request.

I closed my eyes.

“Okay.”

A pause.

“Rain.”

“Yes?”

His voice dropped lower.

“Please, be careful.”

Those two words carried more emotion than he usually allowed himself.

“I will.”

We said goodbye calmly.

My mom’s house had barely changed.

The same street.

The same trees.

The same evening air scented with food drifting from neighboring homes.

I stood at the door for a few seconds before pressing the bell.

Footsteps.

The click of a lock.

The door swung open.

“Rain! My sunshine!”

Mom pulled me into her arms immediately.

Warm hands. Familiar perfume. A voice that instantly brought me back to childhood.

“You’ve lost so much weight! Are you sleeping enough? Why didn’t you tell me you were arriving earlier?”

She spoke quickly, anxiously, barely letting me respond.

I laughed through the sudden sting of tears.

“Mom… I missed you too.”

She pulled back, studying my face.

“You’ve changed, sunshine…”

I tensed.

“In what way?”

She gently touched my cheek.

“There’s something new in your eyes. But we’ll talk about that later, sweetheart. How was your flight?”

I exhaled, offering a soft smile.

“It was… wonderful.”

She nodded briefly.

“That’s good, dear. You can go to the guest room — I tidied it a little. Then come eat immediately, you must be starving.”

I smiled.

“Of course. Thank you, Mom.”

I hugged her again and went to my room.

I left my suitcase by the door, looked around, and took a deep breath.

As if… as if nothing had changed.

I quietly returned to the kitchen. I would deal with my things later.

The kitchen smelled like home.

Soup simmered on the stove. Steam rose toward the ceiling. Everything felt warm, calm, safe.

We sat across from each other.

She watched me too closely.

“Sunshine, tell me — do you finally have someone? Is there someone in your life?” she asked suddenly.

I froze, spoon suspended in midair.

“What?”

She smiled knowingly.

“Mothers sense these things.”

I looked away.

“Well… in a way… maybe.”

“In a way?”

I laughed nervously.

“It’s complicated.”

I told her a little.

Very carefully.

No agreement. No blue room. Nothing that couldn’t be explained with ordinary words.

Only this:

“He’s complicated.”

“He takes care of me.”

“And when I’m with him… I feel different.”

She listened silently. After a moment of quiet, she spoke softly.

“Sunshine, I’m not asking to interfere,” she said gently. “I’m asking because I see how you think about someone.”

I exhaled — just exhaled, unsure what else to say.

She smiled faintly.

“Does he make you happy?”

A pause.

A long one.

A very long one.

“I… don’t know.”

She tilted her head.

“That’s a difficult answer.”

“Because he’s a difficult person.”

“Is he good?”

I thought carefully.

“He… tries to be.”

“That’s not the same thing,” she said softly.

I looked up.

“He’s not like the people you usually date.”

“Does he hurt you?”

I froze.

Not physically. Not like that.

“Sometimes… yes… I mean, I— not in a physicall way, more like…”

She waited.

“I – He, um, he … also makes me feel… seen.”

Mom studied me for a long moment.

“Rain, love shouldn’t have to break you for you to feel noticed.”

“He’s not breaking me,” I said quickly.

“He’s just… complicated.”

She sighed.

“Are you afraid of him?”

I thought.

Truly, honestly thought.

“No.”

A pause.

“I’m afraid of losing him.”

That told her everything.

We talked about many other things after that.

About Sky.

About when I planned to look for work in my field.

Whether I intended to stay in Thailand or move to Korea someday.

At some point we realized we could talk endlessly, but we needed rest.

We still had four whole days together.

I returned to my room.

I unpacked carefully, took a shower, moved through everything on autopilot.

It still felt like I was in Phayu’s house.

Even though my room there was practically the size of my mother’s apartment, my mind refused to switch.

After showering, I climbed into bed and pulled the blanket over my head.

I lay there listening to the silence — unfamiliar after so long.

My phone rested beside me.

The screen was dark.

I checked the time.

No messages.

The last time we spoke was… in the taxi.

I frowned.

Before, he had written more often.

Asked questions.

Watched. Controlled. Checked.

Now — silence.

I turned onto my side.

Maybe he was busy. Maybe he was working. Maybe he was simply giving me space.

Rationally, everything was fine.

But something inside me tightened with restless anxiety.

I checked my phone again.

Nothing.

Strange.

When he was near, I had been afraid of his presence.

Now I was afraid of his absence.

I stared at the ceiling, feeling a strange emptiness spreading inside me.

Morning in my mom’s house felt different.

Peaceful.

I woke to the smell of rice and something sweet — painfully familiar, achingly comforting.

For several seconds, I lay staring at the ceiling, trying to remember where I was.

I took a deep breath, sat up, and instinctively reached for my phone.

The screen lit up.

And again—

Nothing.

No messages.

No calls.

From him — nothing.

Something unpleasant twisted inside my chest.

I set the phone aside and tried not to think about it.

You’re not here to suffer. You’re here to spend time with Mom, right?

Right.

Then why was I waiting so desperately for his message? For his call?

I allowed myself one more deep breath.

Alright. Stop. Rain, people get busy. He’s working. Or… yes. Busy.

I left my room and went to the bathroom to wash my face.

I looked at my reflection and slowly began to realize I was starting not to recognize the person staring back at me.

The struggle that had been building inside me for so long was beginning to surface.

I returned to my room, changed my clothes — and yes, my hand reached for the phone again.

Still nothing.

Maybe… maybe I should text him?

Maybe he was waiting for that?

Or… was he deliberately giving me space? Respecting my boundaries?

I swallowed and slipped the phone into my pocket.

“You’re up early,” Mom said when I came into the kitchen.

She stood at the stove, stirring rice porridge, and smiled at me so gently it felt like I was ten years old again.

“I can’t sleep long in a new place, you know that,” I said with a soft smile.

She studied me more closely, narrowing her eyes.

“I don’t think that’s the real reason. Especially since this isn’t a new place. Tell me — is this because of him?”

I froze.

Of course. Try hiding anything from that woman.

“You know me too well.”

She set a plate in front of me.

“That’s what mothers are for, dear.”

I pushed the food around my plate, trying to hide the anxiety coiling inside me.

“I think… everything is just weighing on me at once. We’re not exactly in a stable emotional relationship, as you’ve probably guessed. And I still need to decide where to apply for my internship. It’s a lot. But… being here really does make things easier, so please don’t worry about me. Everything will work out.”

Mom sat beside me and covered my hand with hers.

“Of course it will, sweetheart. You’ve always been strong. Just… don’t dig too deeply inside your own head like you always do.”

I nodded softly.

Impossible.

“Okay, Mom. I’ll try.”

She took a sip of coffee while I ate, then set the cup down and looked at me again.

“Have you considered any internship options yet? I heard Storm Enterprises recruits new candidates every year. Have you tried applying there?”

I choked on my porridge and started coughing, quickly grabbing a glass of water.

“Rain, sunshine, are you alright?” she asked anxiously.

I took a deep breath and looked at her.

“Mom… the thing is… the person I’m seeing… he’s the CEO of that company.”

She froze.

Leaning back slightly in her chair, she picked up her glass, took a small sip, then looked at me again.

“Your… boyfriend is Phayu Theerapanyakul?”

I gave an awkward smile and nodded.

“Yes. And I… don’t really want to use connections, you know?”

Mom let out a small, nervous laugh.

“I understand… and I understand why you’re in such a state.”

I looked at her, confused.

“What do you mean?”

She placed her hand over mine again.

“You do understand that with people at that level, nothing is ever simple?”

I lowered my gaze, then looked back at her.

“You’re talking like you know him.”

She smiled gently.

“I know you.”

We ate in silence for a while.

I checked my phone again.

Nothing.

Mom noticed.

“He doesn’t write to you?”

I shook my head.

She spoke softly.

“He’s probably busy. That wouldn’t be surprising for someone like him. Sometimes silence is also a kind of test.”

For some reason, that thought didn’t comfort me at all.

We decided to get some fresh air and visit one of my favorite places in the neighborhood.

We went to the market.

It was loud, vibrant, alive — vendors shouting, the smell of spices and fresh fruit filling the air, people bargaining, laughing, living.

Mom picked out vegetables, chatted with sellers, while I walked beside her carrying bags and checking my phone every few minutes.

The screen remained empty.

Each time, my heart sank a little lower.

“Rain, sunshine, stop staring at your phone,”

Mom said gently, stopping in her tracks.

“You’re here with me. Relax. Look around. Please, dear — stop torturing yourself.”

I nodded and tucked the phone away.

“Yeah, sorry. Just a moment of weakness…”

I gave a small laugh and walked beside her again.

But my mind was far away.

Too far.

In a house of glass and concrete.

Beside a man who was now silent.

We wandered through the market a little longer before finally returning home with our groceries.

And even surrounded by warmth, noise, and the familiar rhythm of my old life, the silence from him followed me like a shadow.

Mom suggested we visit Grandma. She lived just a few minutes away.

And that… probably frightened me more than anything else.

I loved my grandmother deeply.

But the problem was that she felt things more intensely than anyone else.

She was wise — the kind of person after whose words you were never quite the same again.

And that happened every time.

The hardest part was that she didn’t know about my… preferences.

And now, with whatever this was between me and Phayu, she would definitely sense that something inside me was wrong.

Honestly, I feared this meeting more than signing that damn agreement.

Grandma’s house smelled of herbs and old wood.

The scent of childhood.

She opened the door before we even knocked.

“My boy.”

Her hands were small but strong.

She pulled me into an embrace, holding me as if confirming I was real.

“You’ve grown so much — but you’re so thin. Clearly I’m not there to watch your diet.”

I smiled faintly and hugged her tighter.

“I’ve been an adult for a long time, Grandma.”

She laughed softly.

“For the world, maybe. But for me, you’ll always be my little sunshine.”

Grandma had prepared an entire table of food.

Bowls of steaming kimchi jjigae, fragrant bibimbap, neatly rolled kimbap, crispy jeon pancakes, sweet tteok rice cakes, and perfectly arranged plates of pickled vegetables.

The rich, comforting aroma filled the room.

For a while, we ate peacefully, talking about nothing in particular.

Soon Mom left for work, leaving us alone.

And I knew.

This was when the real conversation would begin — and there would be no escape.

The house grew quiet.

A clock ticked steadily.

The wind stirred the curtains.

Time itself seemed to slow.

We sat on the floor at a low table, drinking tea.

She watched me.

For a long time.

Too long.

“Your heart is noisy,” she said suddenly.

I froze.

“What? That sounds like a diagnosis.”

“It sounds like love.”

“You… how—”

“You love someone,” she said calmly.

“I can see it in the way you look at everything here. And in how often your hand searches for your phone.”

It wasn’t a question. It was a statement.

I set my teacup down and lowered my gaze.

“Yes. I think… I’m in love. And… I’m admitting it to myself for the first time.”

Grandma smiled sadly.

“And you’re afraid. Very afraid.”

I exhaled, feeling my eyes sting, my heart threatening to break free from my chest.

“Yes. I’m terrified.”

She poured more tea, as if we were discussing the weather.

“That’s good, dear.”

I looked up sharply.

Huh?

“What? What do you mean? How is that a good sign?”

“Love without fear is merely habit.”

I sat in silence.

There was truth in her words… but could love really exist only alongside fear?

After a long moment of hesitation, I gathered my courage and spoke quietly.

“Grandma… he’s a man.”

She didn’t even blink.

She simply nodded.

“The heart does not know gender.”

My breath caught.

“You’re… not surprised?”

“I’ve watched the way you look at people since you were a child. There was always more feeling in your gaze than form.”

My eyes burned again.

She moved closer.

“And what is he like? Tell me about the one who stole your heart.”

A quiet sob escaped me before I could stop it.

And finally, I said it aloud.

“He’s complicated. Very. Sometimes I feel like… he could destroy me.”

“Then the question is not about him,” she said calmly. “People being complicated is nothing new. The question is whether you want to be destroyed.”

I stared at her, confused. I didn’t even understand what she meant.

She took my hand, squeezing it gently.

“He’s older than you, isn’t he?”

“Yes.”

“A strong man?”

“Very.”

She nodded, as if confirming something.

“And he keeps everything under control.”

My fingers curled unconsciously.

“Yes.”

She squeezed my hands more firmly.

“Then listen carefully, Rain.”

I straightened.

“People who build their lives around control don’t do it because they love power,” she said softly. “They do it because their lives were once chaos.”

My breath stopped. I already knew it.

Phayu flashed before my eyes — his whispers in the night, the confession I was never meant to hear.

“Such people fear losing control,” she continued. “Because for them, losing control means becoming helpless again.”

“He’s… not a bad person,” I said quietly.

“I didn’t say he was bad,” she replied. “I said he is wounded.”

The words struck deeper than I expected.

“Wounded people love very deeply, but they often forget that love is not a cage.”

Something tightened painfully inside me.

“And what if I… want to stay?” I whispered. “What if it doesn’t feel like a cage to me?”

She looked at me for a long time.

“Then remember one thing.”

I leaned closer.

“Love should never be the place where you disappear so that another person can feel whole.”

I closed my eyes.

“He doesn’t make me disappear…”

“Not yet,” she said gently.

I opened my eyes sharply.

“But you are already learning to breathe his air,” she said calmly.

“I can see it.”

My lips trembled.

Tears slid slowly down my cheeks — and at the same time, I felt a strange sense of relief.

“I’m afraid… I don’t want to lose him.”

She stroked my hand soothingly.

“Then hold on to him. But not at the cost of yourself.”

She paused before continuing.

“If someone truly loves you, they will not ask you to break yourself to stay.”

Silence settled between us.

She smiled — warm, almost sorrowful.

“But do you know what’s most frightening?”

I swallowed.

“Sometimes we are willing to break ourselves for those we love.”

I exhaled — deeply, painfully.

She squeezed my hand.

“Just make sure he is willing to break for you too.”

She pulled me into a tight embrace, as if protecting me from everything — just like when I was a child.

We sat like that for a long time.

Later, after I finished my tea, I checked my phone again while she cleared the table.

Nothing.

Grandma noticed.

“You’re waiting for his call?”

I shook my head.

She touched my hand.

“If someone disappears so you will feel their absence, it means they fear more than you do.”

My heart clenched painfully.

“He wants to control everything,” I admitted quietly. “Especially me.”

“Because he cannot control himself,” she answered immediately.

I froze.

Phayu’s face flashed before my eyes.

His nightmare.

His confession.

His fear.

And suddenly, for the first time in a long while, I stopped thinking. Stopped analyzing.

Enough.

She asked me to help trim her flowers, and I did.

I simply stayed beside her.

Breathed.

Listened to the almost peaceful silence.

Then, suddenly my phone vibrated.

My heart slammed violently.

I grabbed it.

A message.

But not from him.

Minju:“Rain??? You’re in Korea?! We’re meeting tonight. Bar by the river. You coming?”

I stared at the screen for several seconds.

Relief and disappointment washed through me at the same time.

He was still silent.

Grandma watched my face carefully.

“Not him?”

I shook my head.

“A childhood friend. Minju. He wants to meet tonight.”

“Then go,” she said gently.

“Sometimes answers come when we stop waiting for them.”

I nodded.

And still, I waited for only one message.

In the evening, I went to the meeting after all.

I couldn’t just sit around suffering the entire time, right?

The bar was by the river — the same place where we used to gather after school, pretending we were adults until late at night, when security would chase us out.

I remembered the smell of grilled meat, the sticky tables, the loud music, the neon signs that turned the night into a blur of color.

When I opened the door, the noise crashed over me like a wave.

Music thundered.

People laughed.

Glasses clinked.

The air was thick with soju, spices, and the heat of crowded bodies.

And for the first time in days, I felt… lighter.

“RAAAAIN!”

Someone practically launched themselves at me.

“Minju—” I laughed, barely keeping my balance.

He wrapped an arm around my neck in a crushing hug.

“You actually came! I thought you’d disappear back into your mysterious life again!”

“I don’t disappear.”

“You disappear constantly! Sometimes you answer my messages, then you vanish into the abyss of studying and work.”

“That’s different.”

Minju rolled his eyes.

“Sure, sure. Stop standing there — come on.”

We approached a table where two others were waiting.

“Finally,” Hana said, smiling as she adjusted her hair.  “We already decided you’d become too elite for us.”

“He was always like that,” Taehyun smirked, raising his glass.  “Now he just has a degree — and that weird exhausted expression on his face.”

“My face is normal.”

“No,” Minju said calmly.  “You have the face of someone who either fell in love or joined a cult.”

“Sometimes that’s the same thing,” Hana added.

I rolled my eyes and sat down.

“I already regret coming.”

“Too late,” Taehyun said, pouring me soju.

For the first half hour, we talked about everything at once.

Elementary school. Middle school. Teachers. Old classmates.

Who got married, who broke up, who moved away.

I laughed — genuinely.

“Remember when you got into a fight because Minju copied your test?” Hana asked.

“He stole my answers!”

“You literally let me look at them!” Minju protested.

“Look — not copy word for word!”

“You cried!”

“I did not cry!”

“You cried.”

“I was fourteen!”

Taehyun intervened calmly.

“So you admit you cried?”

Everyone burst out laughing.

Me too.

And suddenly I realized how much I had missed this feeling — simplicity, lightness, the absence of tension.

After a while, the conversation grew quieter. Deeper.

“You really still live in Thailand?” Hana asked.

“Yes.”

“What’s it like there?”

I hesitated.

Glass walls.

Cold rooms.

Dark blue spaces.

And his gaze. Again. His gaze.

“It’s beautiful,” I said carefully. “And complicated.”

“Because of work?” Taehyun asked.

I drank a shot of soju, bit my lip, and exhaled.

“Because of a person,” I admitted.

The three of them exchanged knowing looks.

“Aha,” Minju stretched out the word. “So it is love.”

“It’s… complicated.”

“You sound like a drama protagonist,” Hana said.

“That’s exactly how I feel.”

“Is he good?” she asked quietly.

I fell silent.

“He’s… real.”

It was the only answer I could give.

Soon food arrived — grilled meat, spicy side dishes, rich sauces.

Cocktails followed.

I drank the first one quickly.

The second more slowly.

By the third, warmth spread through my chest and head, and the tension of the past days began to dissolve.

The music felt softer.

The lights warmer.

My friends’ laughter closer.

“Much better,” Minju said, watching me. “You finally relaxed.”

“I was relaxed.”

“No. You looked like someone on a leash, constantly on edge.”

I froze for a second.

“Just tired.”

“Mmm,” Taehyun hummed, but didn’t press further.

The waiter placed my third cocktail in front of me.

I lifted the glass, watching the amber liquid catch the neon light.

My phone vibrated.

One message.

I unlocked the screen automatically.

And froze.

Phayu.

Don’t you think you should have stopped drinking already?

The world vanished.

The music faded.

Voices became distant.

My heart slammed so hard I couldn’t breathe.

No.

No.

He couldn’t possibly know.

“Rain? Everything okay?”

Minju’s voice sounded far away.

I slowly raised my head.

First, I saw a man standing near the entrance.

Tall.

Calm.

His sharp gaze scanning the room.

Aon.

He stood like someone assessing security — like he already knew exactly where I was.

Cold spread through my veins.

Then I turned my head further.

And saw him.

Phayu stood slightly behind him.

Hands in his pockets.

Shoulders relaxed.

His gaze fixed on me.

No emotion on his face.

Only focus.

Only presence.

He didn’t move.

Didn’t call my name.

He simply stood there.

And that alone stole the air from my lungs.

“Rain?” Minju’s voice grew louder.

I shot to my feet.

The chair scraped loudly against the floor.

My heart pounded.

The entire world narrowed to one man standing at the entrance.

This… was impossible.

Chapter Text

I barely remembered how we left the bar.

All I remembered was how violently my heart was beating. I wasn’t even sure why.

Was it anger? Relief? Excitement?

Or maybe all of it was just something my imagination had created.

The door closed behind me, and the pounding music dulled instantly, leaving only the distant noise of the street and the frantic rhythm of my heart.

I stopped.

Tried to take a deep breath, but something in my chest resisted it.

I closed my eyes, forced my thoughts into order, then turned around.

He was standing only a few steps away.

Not moving.

Just watching me.

Phayu.

Real.

Not a hallucination. Not a message on a screen. Not the phantom in my mind that had followed me every night.

He was here.

In Seoul.

Right in front of me.

For a moment it felt like I sobered instantly, as if every trace of alcohol in my body had dissolved under the shock.

I forced myself to speak.

“…What are you doing here?” My voice came out quieter than I intended.

He didn’t answer immediately.

His gaze moved slowly across my face — my eyes, my lips, my neck. He was studying me carefully, as if confirming I hadn’t disappeared, as if checking that nothing had happened to me.

The sensation was… complicated.

“First,” he finally said, “you didn’t inform me of your arrival the moment you landed, as I asked. And second, I had… urgent buisness in Seoul.”

His tone was calm.

Cold.

Too calm.

Something flared inside me.

I had told him. Yes, not exactly when he asked,  but I called him, didn’t I?

“I didn’t tell you in time?” I repeated. “Yes, I didn’t message the second the plane landed, but I did call you! P’Phayu… are you serious right now?”

I could feel my blood boiling.

And he...

He said nothing.

Just stood there.

Watching.

As if my anger amused him.

I stepped closer.

“You didn’t text me. You didn’t call. For more than a day,” the words spilled out faster than I could stop them. “And now you just appear here and say you had business and that… what? You’re upset I didn’t message you immediately?”

His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.

“Baby,” he said quietly, “don’t you think you’re allowing yourself a little too much?”

It wasn’t a question.

It was a reprimand.

“I was waiting, P’Phayu,” I breathed. “I was waiting for you to write. But I assumed you were busy… or maybe trying to give me some illusion of personal boundaries. It didn’t exactly comfort me. I was waiting for something else.”

I swallowed.

Too late realizing what I’d just admitted.

Damn it, Rain. Why would you tell him how much you were waiting?

He inhaled sharply.

Barely audible.

But I heard it.

“I didn’t want to text,” he said.

The words hit harder than a slap.

“Why?”

He stepped closer.

Now there was less than a meter between us.

“Because I prefer directness.” His voice dropped lower. “What would be the point of texting you and wondering whether you’d answer… or forget again? While I sit there thinking something might have happened to you.” His gaze hardened.  “I would rather speak to you in person. To make it clear that you cannot hide from me. And when I ask something of you, I expect it to be done.”

My heart stumbled.

What the hell.

My hands were trembling now.

He seriously flew to Seoul because I didn’t text him the second the plane landed?

“P-P’Phayu… do you even hear yourself?” I whispered.

He looked directly into my eyes.

And in that look was everything.

Control. Pain. Desire. Anger.

And something darker.

“Yet you were thinking about me,” he said quietly. “You left, but you just admitted you were waiting for my message. You were waiting for me. Isn’t that true?”

“P’Phayu, I—”

He stepped forward and pressed me lightly against the wall of the building. Faint music from inside the bar vibrated through the bricks behind me.

My throat went dry.

“What is it, Rain?” he murmured. “You’re angry that I came here. That I walked into your night, into your own world, without warning.” His finger traced slowly along my cheek.

I lowered my gaze, finally managing to wet my lips, but his finger caught my lower lip before I could.

I looked up at him again.

“But admit it,” he continued softly. “You like breaking the rules. You like seeing me like this. You like that I don’t let you go.”

His voice lowered further.

“You’re already beginning to understand… that you miss my presence. Even after such a short time.”

My heart pounded so violently that all I could hear was his voice and my pulse.

The night air brushed my face, yet I felt like I was underwater.

Like I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Because what he was saying was true.

I hadn’t expected him to come.

But somewhere, deep down, I had hoped.

Because this was Phayu.

I swallowed and met his gaze without looking away.

“I… a message would have been enough, P’Phayu,” I said quietly. “But… you missed me too, didn’t you?”

I almost smiled.

Or maybe I stopped myself.

The question was simple.

But he didn’t answer.

He stayed silent.

And yet the answer was obvious in his eyes.

He had missed me.

He hadn’t come here only because of control.

He came because he couldn’t stay away.

Every second. Every breath.

We had both missed each other.

And that truth hung between us, undeniable.

He stepped closer.

Now I could clearly feel the warmth of his body.

“Rain, baby…”

He said my name like it was something he had been holding inside himself for too long.

And that broke me.

I grabbed his shirt, pulling him closer.

And kissed him.

It wasn’t gentle.

It was desperate.

Hungry.

Almost painful.

Like I needed proof he was real.

His body froze for a fraction of a second.

One. Two.

Then he kissed me back.

His hand slid to my waist, gripping firmly, as if making sure I couldn’t slip away.

His lips moved with confidence, with control, like he was reclaiming something that belonged to him.

My breathing faltered.

I forgot where we were.

Forgot who we were.

Forgot everything.

Until—

“Rain?!”

I pulled away abruptly.

Minju was standing in the bar’s doorway, breathing hard.

He stared at us with wide eyes.

“You—” his gaze flicked from me to Phayu and back again. “I was looking for you.”

I felt Phayu’s body tense beside me.

His hand slowly slipped from my waist.

But he didn’t step back.

Instead, he looked at Minju.

Carefully. Coldly. Assessing.

“He’s fine,” Phayu said. “And he’s leaving. It’s already late, and he had more to drink than he should have. Thanks to… you.”

Minju frowned.

“Oh, what, he’s not allowed to relax?” He stepped forward. “He’s not sixteen. Nobody gets to forbid him from having fun. Who do you think you are? You really think you can just walk in here and tell my friend it’s time for him to go home?”

I opened my mouth to tell Minju to calm down, but Phayu moved faster.

He let go of me.

And the next second he was standing directly in front of Minju.

He stopped only inches away.

Too close.

Minju didn’t step back.

They looked at each other as if the air between them had disappeared.

Aon appeared in the doorway behind them.

I hadn’t even noticed him leave earlier, but now he leaned calmly against the wall, watching closely, as if expecting things to go wrong at any moment.

Oh god.

Phayu tilted his head slightly, studying Minju.

“You’re his friend huh?” he asked quietly.

“Yes,” Minju replied coldly. “Which is exactly why I’m asking what the hell you think you’re doing here.”

Phayu exhaled slowly.

His gaze was cold.

Too cold.

“Then you should know,” he said, “that you’re interrupting a conversation that doesn’t concern you.”

Minju let out a short laugh.

“When my friend looks like someone’s about to drag him away by force, it absolutely concerns me.”

Phayu’s shoulders tightened slightly.

“I’m not dragging him anywhere,” he said quietly.

“Not yet.”

“Minju—” I tried to interrupt.

But he didn’t even glance at me.

“You’re acting like he’s your property,” Minju continued.

That was a mistake.

I saw Phayu’s eyes darken.

He stepped forward again.

Now there were only centimeters between them.

“Be careful with your words,” he said quietly.

His voice remained calm.

But the threat beneath it sent a chill down my spine.

Minju didn’t move.

“Why?” he said. “Am I supposed to be afraid of you?”

I stepped between them.

“Enough!”

Both of them looked at me.

My heart was pounding so loudly it felt like the entire street could hear it.

Phayu looked only at me.

Not at Minju.

Just me.

And there was so much jealousy in his eyes that it almost hurt to see.

“You came here to drink with him,” he said quietly.

“I came to see my friends.”

“He was touching you. Your hand. Your waist.”

I blinked, trying to process what he’d just said.

Was no one allowed to touch me except him now?

“What? P’Phayu, what are you talking about? People touch each other. That’s normal.”

“The problem,” he said calmly, “is that no one touches what belongs to me.”

Minju scoffed.

“Oh, you’ve got to be—”

“Be quiet,” Phayu said sharply.

Not loudly.

But with such authority that even the music seemed to fade for a moment.

Something inside me tightened painfully.

“P’Phayu…”

Minju rolled his eyes.

“God, this is some toxic—”

Phayu turned toward him instantly.

“Do you even understand who you’re speaking to?”

Minju narrowed his eyes.

“Yes. A man who thinks he can control someone else’s life.”

Silence.

Phayu smiled.

But it was a dangerous smile.

I stepped forward and pressed my hand against his chest.

“Enough.”

He froze.

My voice trembled, but I kept going.

“It’s really late.”

I turned to Minju.

He looked at me with clear frustration.

“Rain—”

I shook my head.

“It’s okay.”

He didn’t look convinced.

“You sure?”

I nodded.

“Yes.”

Then added quietly,

“I really should go.”

Minju studied my face for another second.

Then he exhaled heavily.

“Fine.”

He pointed a finger toward Phayu.

“But if he hurts you—”

Phayu didn’t even look at him.

He was still watching me.

Minju shook his head and disappeared back into the bar.

And I was left standing in front of Phayu.

“I’m not your property,” I whispered. “I haven’t signed anything yet.”

He stepped closer.

“I know.”

His voice was quiet. Too quiet.

“But that doesn’t mean I can stand there and watch someone else next to you…”

His hand lifted.

Stopping just a centimeter from my face.

He didn’t touch me.

“…and feel nothing. I saw the way he looks at you.”

My heart tightened.

I exhaled and smiled faintly.

“P’Phayu… he’s not interested in me like that. Not even close. So everything you just did was… unnecessary. And even if someone did show interest in me, it doesn’t mean I wouldn’t say no.”

I met his eyes.

“Because there’s already someone in my heart. Someone who makes it beat faster. Someone who, instead of calming down and calling me… flies to another country just to confront me face to face.”

Phayu let out a quiet chuckle.

That smile. The one he only allowed me to see — appeared briefly.

He opened his mouth to say something.

Then stopped himself.

Closed it again.

Exhaled.

And said something completely different.

“It’s late. I’ll take you home.”

He took my hand.

We walked toward his car.

Aon followed a few steps behind.

When we reached it, Phayu and I slid into the back seat while Aon got into the driver’s seat.

The car started moving.

And suddenly the night felt very, very quiet.

I stared out the window. Neon lights slid across the glass, reflecting faintly on Phayu’s face.

I could feel his gaze.

He hadn’t taken his eyes off me the entire time.

“Are you planning to stay silent the whole ride?” I finally asked.

He tilted his head slightly.

“I’m giving you space.”

I snorted.

“After barging into the bar and almost starting a fight with my friend?”

The corner of his lips twitched.

“I wasn’t going to fight.”

“Really?”

He turned toward me.

“He was acting like he needed to protect you from me.”

“He was.”

A pause.

Phayu exhaled slowly.

“You looked like you were enjoying yourself,” he said quietly. “Like you were… having a good time.”

I frowned.

“I was.”

His gaze darkened.

“With him.”

“With my friends,” I corrected.

I shook my head.

“Those are two very different things.”

He didn’t respond.

I sighed.

“So… are you going to tell me what business you actually have in Seoul?”

The question had been circling in my head ever since I saw him in the bar.

He leaned back against the seat.

“You”

I sighed and rolled my eyes.

“P’Phayu…”

“I have a branch here.”

“And?”

“It has problems.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“What kind of problems?”

He looked at me.

“The kind that require my presence.”

“You flew here for work?”

A pause.

A long one.

He stared straight ahead.

“Not only.”

My heart skipped.

I turned back to the window.

The car turned onto a quieter street.

I recognized the neighborhood.

“We’re almost there,” I said quietly.

Phayu nodded.

When the car stopped in front of my mother’s house, I reached for the door.

But then Phayu spoke.

“Aon.”

Aon glanced at us in the rearview mirror.

“Yes, Khun.”

“Wait outside.”

Aon didn’t ask a single question.

He simply stepped out of the car.

The door closed.

And the car fell silent again.

I turned toward Phayu.

“What—”

He didn’t let me finish.

His hand slid suddenly to the back of my neck.

And the next second he kissed me.

Deep.

Hard.

Desperate.

God… it hadn’t even been that long, but I hated how much I had missed this.

A breath escaped me as I grabbed his shirt.

He pulled me closer.

His hand moved along my back, down to my waist.

His fingers tightened.

A shiver ran through me.

I could feel it — the moment he started losing control again.

Because of me.

And I hadn’t even tried to provoke him.

He kissed me like we hadn’t seen each other in a year.

His hand slid lower, settling between my thighs as he shifted them apart with a slow, deliberate movement.

Every nerve in my body seemed to ignite.

One touch from him was enough to set me on fire.

I inhaled sharply.

“P’Phayu…”

He didn’t stop.

His lips moved down to my neck.

For a moment I closed my eyes, biting my lip and tilting my head back, giving him space.

But then reality snapped back.

I remembered where we were.

“Wait…”

My voice came out weaker than I intended.

“Wait… please, P’Phayu… stop. We—”

He froze.

I pushed lightly against his shoulder.

“We…” I exhaled. “We’re practically in front of my mother’s house.”

He looked at me.

His eyes dark.

Dangerous.

“And?”

“And she could be back at any moment.”

A pause.

Then the corner of his mouth lifted.

He leaned back against the seat.

“Then perhaps I should meet her.”

I blinked.

“What?”

He watched me carefully.

“You’ve met Kinn and Porsche.”

My heart sped up slightly.

“Yes.”

I bit my lip.

This was a terrible idea. A really terrible idea.

But the thought was already there.

I looked at him.

And before I could think it through — before I could reconsider —

“Come tomorrow.”

He frowned slightly.

“What?”

“Come tomorrow.”

I could feel heat creeping into my cheeks.

“I’ll introduce you to my mom.”

Silence.

Real silence.

Phayu looked at me like I had just suggested something completely insane.

He had clearly expected me to refuse.

“Rain…”

I shrugged lightly.

“You wanted to know more about me, didn’t you?”

As if you don’t already know more about me than I know about myself.

A pause.

He exhaled slowly.

And for the first time that evening, something in his expression softened.

“Are you sure?”

I nodded.

“Yes.”

He brushed his fingers lightly across my cheek.

A gentle touch.

“Then tomorrow.”

I opened the car door.

The night air was cool.

I took a few steps toward the house, then stopped.

Turned around.

He was still sitting in the car, watching me.

And for a second I thought I saw something in his eyes. Something almost vulnerable.

As I stepped into the house, it greeted me with absolute silence.

Mom was clearly still at work. Her shift must have run late tonight, so she wouldn’t be home until well past midnight.

For the first time since leaving the bar, I allowed myself to exhale.

I closed my eyes and leaned my forehead against the front door.

Outside, I could hear the low rumble of Phayu’s car pulling away. Only then did I feel my knees begin to tremble.

He was in Korea.

He had come here.

Maybe for work. Maybe not entirely for work.

But he knew exaclty where I was.

It was madness.

There were a thousand ways to stay in touch with someone — messages, calls, anything.

Yet he had chosen to come here and look me in the eye.

I felt my cheeks heat.

Yes… I knew it probably wasn’t healthy that part of me liked that. But was anything about whatever existed between Phayu and me actually healthy?

I pulled myself together, slipped off my shoes, and walked down the hallway to the guest room that had become mine for the next few days.

I dropped my things into the wardrobe and headed for the shower.

Everything felt slow, like I was moving underwater.

The alcohol still lingered in my system. I had sobered up a little, but not entirely.

Still, I needed to wash the night off me. At the very least, tomorrow morning I’d thank myself for it.

After a quick shower, I dried my hair a little and collapsed onto the bed.

I picked up my phone.

There was a message from Phayu.

See you tomorrow, baby. Good night. Take something for your head in the morning.

A soft smile tugged at my lips.

I typed back.

Good night, P’Phayu❤️

I placed the phone on the bedside table and lay back, staring at the ceiling.

For a moment, I closed my eyes.

And suddenly it felt like I could still smell his cologne.

Even after the shower.

It clung faintly to my skin.

I bit my lip.

Heat rushed to my face again.

I swallowed and opened my eyes sharply.

My heart was beating too fast.

Seriously?

Rain… calm down.

Just calm down.

But the alcohol still in my system, the lingering trace of Phayu’s scent, and the growing hardness between my legs began to win.

I swallowed.

Well.

There was really only one option now.

I closed my eyes again and focused on that faint scent.

My legs shifted apart automatically.

My hand slid up along my neck, then lower. I pushed my shirt up and rested my palm against my chest, tracing small circles as if trying to soothe myself.

I tried to remember how it felt when Phayu touched me.

It was almost impossible to describe.

Sometimes it felt like some kind of spell.

The moment he touched me, I forgot everything — his conditions, his preferences, the fact that whatever existed between us could never be normal.

Because nothing.  No one had ever made me feel like this.

And perhaps no one ever would.

I swallowed again, remembering the heat of his breath on my skin… the way he played with my nipples.

My fingers brushed over them now, already sensitive, and I squeezed one gently.

“Ah…”

The sound slipped out of me before I could stop it.

I bit my lip instantly, listening.

Silence.

Everything was still.

I exhaled slowly and closed my eyes again.

When I turned my head slightly, the scent seemed stronger.

I remembered the feeling of his tongue against my chest… my stomach…

My hips began to move on their own, pressing helplessly into the mattress.

My hand slid lower and lower until I tugged my underwear down just enough to wrap my fingers around my cock.

It was already painfully hard.

Pre-cum had begun to gather at the tip.

I spread it with my thumb and started moving my hand slowly.

Up.

Down.

I had done this before.

Who hadn’t?

But it was nothing compared to this.

The intensity was overwhelming.

And it was all because of him.

P’Phayu.

Phayu.

His hands. His scent. His touch.

God, I wanted him.

I wanted him so badly it hurt.

“P… P’Phayu… ah…”

I clamped my other hand over my mouth, biting lightly into my finger to keep quiet.

My body ached.

My entrance tightened painfully, as if my body remembered him even when he wasn’t there.

My hand moved faster.

My legs spread wider across the bed.

I was close.

So close it almost hurt.

My breathing grew uneven. Goosebumps spread across my skin as heat pooled low in my stomach.

I thought about the way he whispered in my ear.

Good boy

The way his hands gripped my waist like I was something fragile.

The way he moved inside me —

Deep.

Always hitting exactly the right spot.

The way he kissed my thighs.

The way his hand wrapped around my throat while he watched me —

“Ah—!”

The cry slipped out as my orgasm crashed over me.

Strong.

Not as overwhelming as when I was with him — but enough to release the unbearable pressure.

Warm drops spilled across my stomach and hand.

I let my head fall back against the pillows, trying to slow my pulse.

Trying to breathe normally again.

What are you doing to me, Khun Phayu…

I swallowed, grabbed some tissues, cleaned myself up, then walked to the bathroom to wash my hands and splash cold water on my face.

When I returned to the room, I crawled under the blankets, pulling them up to my chin.

I closed my eyes.

But in the darkness, all I could see, were his eyes.

Morning came rather chaotically.

My alarm went off at nine, dragging me out of sleep. The first thing I felt was a headache.

Well. Not surprising.

I sat up, grabbed my phone, and saw two messages waiting.

One from Phayu. One from Sky.

Sky: Hey! How are you doing over there? I hope everything’s good. I’m already home. I’ll be waiting for you to come back! I have news.

A soft smile tugged at my lips.

Those “news” were definitely about Prapai.

I typed a reply immediately.

Rain: Good morning! I just woke up. I’m doing well, hope you are too! I can’t wait to hear the news. We have a lot to talk about. I’ve had a few adventures here myself.

I sent the message and opened Phayu’s text.

Phayu: Good morning, sleepyhead. I’ll be at your house at five in the evening. Don’t make any plans afterward.

I swallowed.

Why… did that sound like an invitation to a date?

Phayu didn’t do dates. He was very clear about that.

Maybe he just wanted to talk about something again.

Okay, stop overthinking everything.

I sighed and typed back.

Good morning. Okay, I’ll wait for you and won’t plan anything.

I set the phone aside and… remembered last night.

Was that normal?

Maybe it was.

But now the thought of going back to Thailand suddenly felt a little frightening.

By the time the clock crept past five, the house was filled with the smell of food.

Not restaurant food. Not refined or fancy.

Real food.

Home food.

Soy sauce. Garlic. Grilled meat. Rice.

I stood in the kitchen trying to look calm, even though my heart was beating somewhere near my throat.

Phayu sat at the table.

Calm. Collected. Perfectly dressed.

As always.

But somehow… he looked strange here.

Too expensive. Like he didn’t quite belong in this kitchen.

Mom placed the last dish on the table and smiled.

“Well then, we can finally eat.”

She turned to Phayu.

“I hope you like Korean food.”

Phayu nodded politely.

“Very much.”

His voice was calm. Respectful.

“Thank you for inviting me.”

Mom sat across from him.

I noticed the way she studied him carefully.

Not rudely. Just… attentively.

As if she were measuring every inch of his expression, searching for something hidden beneath it.

Phayu, however, was a master at this.

Even I had only recently begun catching small cracks in his composure.

But right now he looked completely controlled.

“Rain told me you’re from Thailand, correct?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“And… how long have you known each other?”

Phayu didn’t even blink.

“For some time.”

Mom smiled slightly.

“That sounds like a diplomatic answer.”

I groaned.

“Mom…”

She ignored me.

“So you’re clearly older than him.”

Not a question. Just a fact.

Phayu replied calmly.

“Yes. But not by much.”

She picked up her chopsticks.

“How much?”

I felt my ears burning.

Phayu answered evenly.

“Only a few years. Rain tends to look younger than he is. His eyes… soften his whole appearance.”

I stared at him.

He had chosen now, in front of my mother, to say that?

Fantastic.

Mom chuckled softly.

“That’s true. Everyone always said his eyes were too gentle. You should have seen him as a child. I should show you pictures sometime.”

Oh God.

Why is this happening to me?

“You seem likeable,” she continued. “Rain can be a little too emotional sometimes, but you… seem very calm.”

Phayu smiled faintly.

“I used to be even calmer. These days I occasionally allow myself to smile.”

“Because of your feelings for my son?”

I buried my face in my hand.

“Mom…”

“What? I’m just talking.”

She turned back to Phayu.

“Rain has never brought anyone home before, so I’m not exactly trained in this kind of etiquette.”

I froze.

“Actually—”

“Never,” she corrected.

Then she looked directly at Phayu.

“So you are a very interesting person to me.”

Phayu held her gaze.

“The feeling is mutual, Khun Hae Rin.”

She tilted her head.

“Why?”

He didn’t answer immediately.

I saw him choosing his words.

And suddenly I felt nervous.

“Because you raised someone who can… change people,” he said finally. “Someone who sees the good in them, even when it’s buried so deeply that they themselves have forgotten it exists.”

I lifted my head sharply.

“What?”

Mom froze too.

Phayu continued calmly.

“Rain is very sincere. That clearly comes from how you raised him.”

Mom nodded quietly.

“Thank you.”

Phayu looked at me.

And for the first time that evening, there was no control in his eyes.

Only honesty.

He smiled faintly, with something like bitterness.

“And that is rare.”

Mom watched us carefully.

I could feel it.

“Innocent people often suffer,” she said slowly.

Phayu didn’t look away.

“I know.”

“Then why are you beside him?”

Silence fell across the room.

My heart began pounding.

Phayu set his chopsticks down.

Then he answered quietly.

“Because despite everything… he still chooses to be that way.”

Mom studied him for a long time.

Then suddenly she asked:

“Do you love my son?”

I nearly choked.

“MOM!”

But she didn’t even look at me.

Her eyes were fixed on Phayu.

The room fell completely silent.

For a moment I saw his shoulders tense.

He could lie.

He could dodge the question.

But instead he said:

“I’m… trying to understand what this is. Honestly. I don’t want to lie to anyone sitting at this table.”

My chest tightened.

Mom didn’t smile.

She simply nodded.

“That’s an honest answer.”

She took a sip of tea.

“You know… Rain has always been like this.”

I looked at her.

“When he was little, he kept bringing home injured birds. Sometimes cats.”

I groaned.

“Mom…”

“What? It’s true.”

She turned back to Phayu.

“He believed he could save them. Fix them. Heal them… or at least give them a place where they could live.”

Phayu asked quietly:

“And did it work?”

Mom smiled.

“Sometimes.”

A pause.

“But sometimes the birds died.”

I lowered my gaze.

She continued gently.

“And then he cried as if the entire world had broken.”

Then she looked straight at Phayu.

“So I’ll ask you just one more question.”

The room grew quiet again.

“Are you the person who will hurt him?”

Her voice softened.

“Or the one who will show him that something better… can exist?”

Phayu didn’t answer immediately.

He looked at me.

And there was something incredibly complicated in his eyes.

Then he looked back at my mother.

And said quietly:

“I’m the person who… wants to stay beside your son.”

A pause.

“And not let him go.”

Silence.

Mom nodded slowly.

“Then I hope,” she said calmly, “that you’ll show him what it means to be held by someone who truly cares.”

For the first time during the entire dinner, Phayu didn’t have an answer.

And I…

I realized that I might be falling in love with him more and more.

When dinner ended, the kitchen grew quiet.

Empty plates were stacked neatly by the sink, the tea in the cups had long gone cold, and outside the window evening was slowly settling over Seoul.

Mom stood up first.

“Thank you for helping with dinner, sunshine,” she said calmly to me, wiping her hands with a towel.

Phayu stood as well.

I noticed how he straightened slightly. Almost imperceptibly, but in that particular way people do when they want to show respect.

“Thank you for inviting me, Khun Hae Rin.”

Mom smiled.

Not broadly. But warmly.

“You can call me just Hae Rin.”

He nodded slightly.

“Then… thank you, Hae Rin.”

She looked at him carefully.

“You carry yourself well.”

Phayu raised an eyebrow.

“I’m sorry?”

“Most people get nervous when they meet the parents of their…” she glanced at me for a moment, “…someone important to them.”

I felt my ears starting to burn again.

Phayu glanced at me, then back at her.

“To be honest, I can’t remember the last time I was this nervous.”

She chuckled softly.

“You hide it well.”

I snorted.

“He hides everything well.”

Phayu shot me a brief look.

That look. The one that made something in my chest turn over every single time.

Mom noticed it.

Of course she did.

She stepped closer and stopped in front of him.

For a few seconds she simply studied him.

Then she said quietly,

“Take care of him.”

It didn’t sound like a request. It sounded like a condition.

Phayu held her gaze.

And answered calmly,

“I will do everything in my power.”

Mom nodded.

Then she turned to me.

“Rain.”

I sighed.

“Yes, Mom.”

“Text me when you get back.”

I rolled my eyes.

“I’m not a child.”

“For me, you always will be.”

She hugged me briefly but tightly.

Then she lightly touched Phayu’s shoulder.

“It was nice meeting you.”

He bowed his head slightly.

“The feeling is mutual.”

When we stepped outside, the evening air was cooler than I expected.

The car was already waiting at the curb.

Aon sat behind the wheel. He gave a short nod when he saw us.

We slid into the back seat. The door closed softly.

I exhaled.

“Well?”

Phayu looked at me.

“Well what?”

“You survived meeting my mom.”

The corner of his mouth twitched.

“It was… more interesting than most business negotiations.”

I laughed.

“She was testing you.”

“I noticed.”

The car pulled smoothly away from the curb.

For a few seconds we drove in silence.

I watched the city lights flicker past the window.

Then I remembered.

“Oh, right.”

I turned to him.

“You told me not to make any plans tonight.”

He nodded.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

He looked at me.

Something strange flickered in his eyes.

Almost… warm.

“Because I have an idea.”

I narrowed my eyes.

“That sounds suspicious.”

He chuckled quietly.

“You agreed.”

“I didn’t know what I was agreeing to.”

“Exactly.”

I groaned.

“P’Phayu…”

He leaned slightly closer.

Just enough so only I could hear him.

“Relax, baby.”

His voice dropped lower.

“I just want to show you something.”

My heart betrayed me again, speeding up.

I leaned back against the seat.

And suddenly realized I was nervous. Far more nervous than I should have been.

Seoul at evening was blinding.

Lights slid across the car windows, spilling over Phayu’s face and turning him into something almost unreal.

He sat beside me relaxed and composed, as if this entire city were just another project under his control.

I pressed my fingers into my knees.

“Where are we going?” I finally asked quietly.

He didn’t turn.

“You’ll see.”

I rolled my eyes.

“I hate when you say that.”

“No,” he replied calmly. “You don’t.”

I opened my mouth to argue.

But I couldn’t. He was right.

The car turned onto an uphill road. I frowned as the route began to look familiar.

“Wait… is this Namsan?”

He didn’t answer.

A few seconds later, the gates appeared ahead of us.

Closed.

I was about to ask something when the car didn’t even slow down.

The gates opened.

Just like that.

No security check. No stop.

My heart skipped.

“Wait—” I turned sharply toward him. “Why are they letting us through?”

He kept his eyes forward.

“Because I asked.”

Asked.

As if that were a completely ordinary thing.

The car stopped near the entrance.

No one was around. The tower was closed.  Closed to everyone.

Except him. Except us.

Phayu stepped out first, walked around the car, and opened my door.  

His movements were calm, confident, effortless. As always.

“Come on, Rain.”

I stood there for a second, staring at him.

“But it’s closed…”

“Yes.”

“Then how—”

He held out his hand.

Not commanding.

Offering.

“Come.”

I placed my hand in his.

The elevator was made of glass.

I realized that too late.

The doors closed, and the cabin began to rise.

My stomach twisted instantly.

The city dropped away beneath us.

Too fast. Too high.

I swallowed.

“P’Phayu…”

He looked at me immediately.

“What?”

“I…”

I hated how this sounded.

“I don’t like heights.”

It was a confession.

Small.

Vulnerable.

His expression changed.

He stepped closer.

His hand found mine.

Then he gently pulled me against him.

“Look at me,” he said softly.

I obeyed.

His eyes were calm. Usually there was a storm in them.

Now… there was quiet.

For the first time I noticed how light they could look — soft brown, almost warm.

Real.

“I’m here,” he said.

I closed my eyes briefly and squeezed his hand.

And somehow, that was enough.

The elevator stopped.

The doors opened.

I stepped out, and instantly regretted it.

Seoul stretched beneath me.

All of it.

Lights poured to the horizon. The river glowed like molten silver. Roads moved like living veins across the city.

My legs weakened.

“God…”

Instinctively, I stepped backward —

And collided with him.

His arms immediately settled around my waist, steadying me.

“It’s alright,” he said quietly. “Don’t be afraid. Look at it… Seoul is almost in the palm of your hand.”

I could feel his warmth behind me.

His breath near my ear. His hands firm at my waist.

And then his chin rested lightly on my shoulder.

I swallowed.

From the wind,  or from something else entirely, my eyes burned.

I was falling. Falling deeper and deeper into Phayu.

And somehow, ironically, he was the one holding me steady.

“Why… why are we here?” I whispered.

He didn’t answer right away.

As usual.

His arms tightened slightly around my waist, almost an embrace now.

I kept staring out at the city.

I wanted to turn around and face him, but I knew if I looked at his face right now, I wouldn’t be able to hold myself together.

“Because you were afraid,” he said quietly.

I frowned.

“What?”

“You…were afraid. Of me.”

My heart dropped.

He continued:

“ I wanted to show you that fear and beauty can exist at the same time.”

His voice softened.

“Sometimes the only way to see something beautiful… is to accept the fear and keep going.”

A pause.

“And I… don’t want to let you go, Rain.”

My breath stopped.

“But I also can’t keep pretending that what we have now is enough for me.”

“P’Phayu…”

“You think the agreement is about control,” he said quietly. “But it’s about safety.”

His hands slid down from my waist to my wrists, guiding them gently to rest against my own stomach while he held them there.

For a moment, I thought his voice trembled — just slightly.

“Rules aren’t meant to trap you,” he continued.

“They exist so you can stay.”

A pause.

“With me.”

The words hurt.

And felt unbelievably tender at the same time.

“Then why does it feel like falling?” I whispered.

“Because you’re already landing.”

He suddenly turned me around.

And I saw his face.

For a moment, I felt like I could see my own emotions reflected in his eyes.

His hand rose to my cheek.

I closed my eyes instinctively.

“You trust me,” he said quietly. “Don’t you?”

My breathing faltered.

“That’s what makes it so terrifying…” I wispered, barely recognizing my own voice.

“I know.”

He said it too softly. Too honestly.

“Then why—” my voice trembled. “Why did you really bring me here?”

He was silent for a long time.

Looking at me as if the most valuable thing in the world was standing right in front of him.

His eyes darkened again, that deep, endless black returning as emotion flooded through them.

“I want you to understand something,” he said quietly.

“I would do anything for you.”

A pause.

“But I can’t abandon my principles.”

He inhaled slowly.

“I’ve never met the family of a submissive.”

“Never chased after one across another country.”

“Never lost control the way I have with you.”

Another pause.

He struggled with the words. I could see it.

The moment was so fragile I didn’t dare interrupt.

“And I have never felt what I feel for you.”

His voice dropped even lower.

“If people call that love… then maybe that’s what it is.”

He swallowed.

“I don’t want to lose you.”

His eyes held mine.

“Rain… please. Sign the agreement.”

I took a breath and bit my lip, lowering my gaze slightly before placing my hand over his.

“If… we can’t exist without it,” I said quietly, “then I’ll sign it.”

His eyes widened slightly.

“When we go back to Thailand… I’ll sign it.”

I lifted my gaze.

“But with my own amendments.”

For a moment, it felt like the night itself had grown brighter.

Something flashed through Phayu’s eyes.

Hope. Relief. Something dangerously close to happiness.

Then he kissed me.

Softly.

And yet with the same intensity he always had.

He pulled me closer against him.

And I felt myself dissolving again. In his kiss, his scent, his presence.

I loved him. I truly did.

And I had just said I would sign the agreement.

But was I being honest with him? With myself? Would I really sign it?

I didn’t know.

He was still kissing me when his phone vibrated.

He pulled back slightly and checked the screen.

“Wait, baby. Sorry… just a second.”

He answered the call and stepped a little further away.

I stayed where I was.

The wind moved softly around the observation deck, carrying the distant hum of the city far below.

Phayu had stepped a few meters away, his back turned to me as he spoke on the phone.

At first I tried not to listen.

But fragments of his voice carried across the quiet.

Low. Controlled. Sharp.

“Yes.”

A pause.

“No, that shouldn’t have happened.”

Another pause. Then quieter.

“Contain it.”

My stomach tightened.

The tone in his voice had changed.

The warmth from moments ago was gone.

Now it was the voice I had heard before — the one he used when something serious had gone wrong.

“…I understand.”

Silence. Then finally:

“I’m leaving tonight.”

My heart skipped.

Phayu lowered the phone slowly.

For a second he didn’t move.

Then he turned back toward me.

And I knew immediately something had changed.

His face was composed again. Calm.

Too calm.

But the softness that had been there a few minutes ago had vanished.

He walked back to me.

“We have to go,” he said quietly.

No explanation. Just that.

I searched his face.

“What happened?”

“Work.”

That was all he said.

But something in his eyes told me it was worse than that.

We didn’t argue. We simply left.

The car ride back felt different.

Quieter.

Seoul still glowed around us, but the magic of the night had faded into something heavier.

Phayu sat beside me, looking out the window, lost in his thoughts.

Neither of us spoke for a long time.

When the car finally stopped in front of my mother’s house, the silence felt almost fragile.

Phayu turned toward me.

“I have to leave tonight.”

My chest tightened.

“For Thailand?”

He nodded once.

“Immediately.”

The word hung between us.

“So…” I swallowed. “We’ll see each other there?”

His gaze softened slightly.

“Yes.”

He reached out and brushed his fingers against my cheek.

A brief touch. Too brief.

“Take care of yourself until then. Promise me.”

I tried to smile.

“Bossy even when you’re leaving.”

A faint shadow of a smile appeared on his lips.

“Always.”

I opened the car door, stepping out into the cool night air.

But before I closed it, I looked back at him.

And for a moment we just stared at each other.

Neither of us moving.

Then I shut the door.

The car pulled away.

And the night suddenly felt much quieter than before.