The warm water enveloped Daotok's body, perfectly matching his skin temperature as he sank deeper into the bathtub. Soft music played in the background, its melody blending with the faint fragrance wafting through the air, creating a tranquil cocoon around him. He leaned back against the edge, closing his eyes for a moment, allowing himself to unwind.
The morning had drained him inexplicably, and the comforting embrace of the bath was a much-needed reprieve. At first, staying with Arthit had felt comfortable, but everything changed after dinner with him. What had started as mild awkwardness quickly escalated into an emotional strain that weighed heavily on him.
His thoughts wandered back to that moment on the motorcycle—the way Arthit had forced him to hold on, his voice casual yet unmistakably firm when he threatened to speed up if Daotok refused. He hadn't been given a choice. It hadn't been voluntary at all. What kind of behavior was that? Perhaps Arthit had meant it as a joke, but Daotok failed to see the humor. What was so amusing about forcing someone into physical contact? And if he truly wanted Daotok to hold him, why? Did it make him feel good? Did he enjoy it for some reason? Maybe he had just grown desensitized to casual touch, seeing Easter and Typhoon frequently hugging or holding hands.
But that kind of intimacy was different. They were close. Having to embrace someone he barely knew, someone like his neighbor, felt undeniably strange. Yet, he couldn't ignore the feeling. Humans were warm-blooded, naturally warm to the touch, but Arthit's warmth was different. He wasn't soft like Easter or Typhoon. He was solid, unwavering. There was a sense of security in that embrace, whether Daotok wanted to acknowledge it or not.
Perhaps it was just because Arthit had been the only thing keeping him from falling off the motorcycle. He exhaled sharply, shaking his head at the thought. It didn't matter. None of it mattered. Arthit probably wasn't interested in him anyway, and even if he was—Daotok would rather he wasn't.
If Arthit found him interesting, he would do better to find something else to waste his time on. Dragging a hand through the water, Daotok let it run gently over the bruise on his neck, hoping it would fade soon. Thinking back on it carefully, the mark might have been Arthit's doing. After all, he had always coexisted peacefully with the ghost in his room. If it really was Arthit... the audacity of that man was infuriating.
Daotok had let him sleep in his room, and yet, he had the gall to harm him? What a terrible habit. Having had enough of the bath, he rose, stepping out and wrapping himself in a towel before inspecting the bruise in the mirror. It had faded significantly. Dressing quickly, he checked his phone, scrolling to see if Typhoon had replied to his message. He had asked for a favor—to bring Mr. Jeon back, since all he had was a motorcycle, which wasn't the most convenient.
But Typhoon hadn't even read the message yet. Sighing, he sat at his desk and turned his attention to the new project he had taken on. His fingers danced across the keyboard, and for a while, he lost himself in his work. Until a knock sounded at the door. Pausing, Daotok removed his headphones and glanced toward the entrance. A quick look through the peephole revealed none other than his neighbor standing outside.
"What do you want?" he asked, not bothering to open the door.
"Let me in," came the monotonous reply.
"What for?"
"Nothing in particular. Just want to be here."
Daotok frowned. "No, thanks." He turned away, intending to return to his desk, but the voice that followed made him halt.
"I could break this door, you know."
Silence.
"At the very least, it'll leave a dent."
Daotok exhaled, the sound laced with exasperation, before reluctantly turning back and unlocking the door.
The moment it cracked open, Arthit wedged his arm inside, preventing him from closing it again. Without waiting for permission, he pushed his way in, slipping off his flip-flops and setting them neatly aside before striding into the room. Dressed in a black t-shirt, sweatpants, and those same flip-flops, he was a stark contrast to his earlier appearance. He carried a single-strap backpack, which he casually dropped by the sofa near Daotok's desk before turning to him with a blank expression.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"Working."
"Okay."
Daotok narrowed his eyes. "And why are you here?"
"I told you. Just want to be here."
"Why?"
"I just do. Don't worry, I won't bother you. I've got reading to do too." He shook the documents in his hand for emphasis.
"Why not stay in your room?"
"I want to be here."
Daotok stared at him for a long moment before sighing. No matter what he said, it would be pointless. Fine. Whatever. As long as he didn't cause trouble.
He returned to his desk, slipping his headphones back on and playing the sound of rain to help him concentrate. Time passed, and after a while, he stretched, shifting slightly in his chair. From the corner of his eye, he noticed the uninvited guest sprawled across the sofa, legs stretched out, headphones on, engrossed in his notes. He worked until he realized it was already 9 P.M. Rising from his chair, he turned to find Arthit fast asleep on the couch. A deep furrow creased his brow. Why was he sleeping here? He had a perfectly good bed in his own room.
Was it really just because he wanted to "be here"? And, more importantly, was that why he had threatened to break the door? As much as Daotok didn't want him there, the reality remained—he was asleep on his sofa, as if he belonged there. Stepping out onto the balcony, Daotok inhaled the crisp night air before dialing North's number. The line connected quickly, and an unnaturally excited voice greeted him.
"Oh! Hey, what's up? How's it going?"
Daotok frowned. "Why are you asking like that?"
"Oh... uh, no reason. Never mind. So, what's up?"
"The neighbor."
"What, what, what?"
"North, you're way too excited."
"Not at all! Spill it, hurry up!"
Daotok sighed. "He's asleep on the sofa in my room."
"Oh, really? Why is he sleeping there?"
"Said something about wanting to be here or whatever."
"...Wow. That's pretty straightforward. What happened next?"
"Nothing much. I just wanted to ask how to get him out of my room."
"What? Don't you want him around?" Daotok's brow twitched. "What kind of question is that? Why would I want that?"
"Oh... yeah, true. Well, that's sad."
"Just tell me how to get rid of him."
"Wake him up and tell him to leave."
"Doesn't feel like that's going to work."
"Why not?"
"Because when I didn't open the door, he threatened to break it down."
North let out a low whistle. "Wow... That's extreme. What the hell, man?"
Daotok sighed. "What am I supposed to do?"
North chuckled. "You really don't get it, huh?"
Daotok stared into the distance, silent.
He wasn't sure he wanted to understand. He leaned against the balcony railing, the cool night air brushing against his skin as he held the phone to his ear. His friend's exasperated sigh crackled through the speaker.
"Honestly, I figured this would happen," North said, voice laced with amusement. "But still, I'm rooting for you to open up to him. I've interrogated him, and I approve."
Daotok frowned, his grip tightening around the phone. "So earlier, when you asked about my love life, it was because of this?"
"Exactly! See, you don't believe me. I've introduced you to so many people. If you'd picked one, you wouldn't have to deal with someone like him now."
"...Is that so?"
"Just kidding! Honestly, he's probably the best you've got. But hey, as an outsider, I won't interfere."
Daotok sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "So how do I get him out of my room?"
North let out a soft chuckle. "You might as well accept it. He's the most self-centered person in the world, after all."
Before Daotok could respond, a voice cut through the stillness behind him.
"Are you done with your work?" His body stiffened. He turned his head slowly, eyes landing on the figure now leaning groggily against the doorway.
His hair was a mess from sleep, one hand lazily ruffling through it as he stepped forward, his presence disrupting the quiet night. Daotok hesitated before answering,
"Just taking a break."
"He's there, isn't he?" North asked knowingly.
"Yeah. Talk later." Without waiting for a response, Daotok ended the call, slipping his phone into his pocket.
It felt inappropriate to keep talking while someone else was in the room—especially when that someone was him. He turned back to the railing, letting the silence settle once more, but the peace was fleeting.
"When are you leaving?" Daotok asked, his voice calm but firm.
A nonchalant shrug. "I don't know. Whenever I feel like it, I guess."
Daotok exhaled through his nose and pushed away from the railing, prepared to head inside and return to his work. But before he could take a step, fingers curled around his wrist, stopping him in place.
He turned, puzzled, only to find Arthit lifting his hand, pressing it lightly against his own cheek. Daotok instinctively tried to pull back, but the grip was unyielding.
"Man, you're something else," he murmured, his tone low, unreadable. "To be honest, I spent half an hour thinking about what to do next before coming here."
Daotok didn't respond.
He wasn't sure how to. Then, without warning, he was pulled forward, arms wrapping around him in a firm embrace. His body tensed, his hands instinctively pressing against broad shoulders, pushing, resisting—but it was useless. Arthit didn't budge. The warmth of his body seeped through Daotok's thin clothing, his scent invading Daotok's senses.
"Let go," Daotok demanded, irritation creeping into his voice.
A quiet chuckle. "Stop wasting your energy." The smugness in his voice only fueled Daotok's frustration. He struggled harder, but the arms around him only tightened, the grip becoming almost suffocating.
"Let go, or I'll step on your foot."
"Go ahead. With your strength, it's not going to hurt anyway." Annoyance flared in Daotok's chest, but deep down, he knew it was true. He lacked the strength to make an impact. Resignation settled over him like a heavy weight.
"See? Staying still is much better," Arthit remarked, voice laced with amusement.
"Are you satisfied now?"
"Not yet."
Daotok sighed, long and weary. "Ugh."
"Haha, you give in so easily."
"Do I?" Daotok muttered. It wasn't as if he had much of a choice.
"Hey, hug me back."
"No way." There was no immediate response, only a shift in movement. Daotok felt, rather than saw, Arthit lean closer, as if he intended to nuzzle against him. Daotok puffed his cheeks in irritation.
"Alright, fine. I'll let go." True to his word, he loosened his grip but didn't release Daotok's wrist entirely. The relief was short-lived.
"Are you mad?"
Daotok glared. "Yeah. Let go. I've got work to do."
"Aren't you going to ask?" He raised an eyebrow. "Like, why I hugged you?"
"I don't care to know."
"So you wouldn't mind if anyone hugged you?"
"I would," Daotok replied flatly. "And do I look like I was okay with this?"
"Your tone is sharp as hell," Arthit observed, his grin never wavering. "You really don't like it, huh?"
"Yep." The amused glint in his eyes didn't fade, and Daotok felt exhaustion settle deeper than before. "Aren't you going to let go?" he asked, glancing pointedly at the hand still wrapped around his wrist.
"What if I say no?"
Daotok stared at him before sighing. "Then follow me." He walked back inside, his unwelcome guest trailing behind, still holding onto him. Settling back at his desk, he ignored the lingering presence.
"What the heck?" Arthit muttered.
"Working."
"And the hand?"
"You're the one not letting go."
A short laugh. "Wait, so you're just going to ignore the fact that I'm holding your hand?"
"Mhm." Daotok picked up his stylus with his free hand, resuming his work. His world had always been filled with distractions—scratching walls, distant cries, shifting shadows. He'd learned to ignore things that didn't matter. A soft chuckle from beside him.
"If you don't stop me, it'll only get worse."
"Don't do it."
"You don't like me holding your hand?"
"I don't like you." A short pause.
"Well, at least you're honest." Daotok didn't respond. The room fell into a comfortable silence, or at least, he thought it was comfortable until the words that followed shattered his concentration.
"I like you." Daotok's hand froze above the screen. His breath hitched slightly, his head turning ever so slightly towards Arthit still sitting on the floor, still holding his hand. "I don't know why or how, but I really do."
Silence.
Daotok stared at him, his mind struggling to process the straightforward confession. It was unexpected, absurd, and yet... something about it felt undeniably real. "Sorry," he said, his voice quieter than intended. "But I don't feel the same way. You should give up."
A shrug. "No."
Daotok blinked. "What?"
"I expected that. But it won't work on me. Just so you know."
A slow exhale. "This makes me uncomfortable."
"Really? Well, get used to it." Daotok stared at the man in front of him, feeling the warmth of his hand being gently squeezed. His mind raced, searching for the right words, something—anything—that could make the persistent presence before him falter.
"Guess you must've done something wrong in your past life to end up with someone like me liking you," Arthit said, his voice laced with amusement. "Too bad, because I'm not backing down."
Daotok exhaled through his nose, trying not to let frustration seep into his expression. "Then I'll go make merit to improve my karma."
"I'll take you," Arthit shot back without missing a beat.
Daotok sighed, shaking his head. "It's not going to work. You're probably just interested because you've never met someone weird like me before."
Arthit scoffed, dark eyes gleaming with certainty. "You think I don't know myself? I like you because I like you, not because of some nonsense."
Daotok turned his gaze away, staring at the floor as his chest tightened. "Just let me be alone."
"Let me stay with you instead." The response was immediate, stubborn, unwavering. "Someone like me doesn't come around easily, you know. Just think of it as your life getting a bit more chaotic with me around. I'll try not to do anything you dislike, as long as you don't push me away. Deal?"
Silence stretched between them. Daotok didn't answer, didn't move. He had lost count of how many times he'd wished this man would give up. Then came the next blow—casual, as if the words meant nothing.
"Oh, and about that mark on your neck? I did it. Last night, I got carried away because you smell so damn good. Maybe it was the alcohol too. But I won't do it again. Sorry if it hurt."
Daotok's fingers ghosted over his neck, feeling the faint sting of bruised skin. "It did."
"Sorry." Another silence. This time, the weight of it felt heavier.
"Any objections? No? Then it's a deal."
Daotok frowned. "A deal about what?"
"About me staying with you."
"No."
"Why not?"
Daotok sighed, feeling exhaustion seep into his bones. "You already know why."
"Is it about Kram?" The name was spoken lightly, but the air in the room thickened immediately.
Daotok tensed. "Yes."
"Don't worry. I don't care that you've had a boyfriend before."
"That's not it."
Arthit leaned closer, voice quieter now, more serious. "Then what? Afraid I'll hurt you like he did?"
Daotok inhaled slowly, letting his gaze drift to the unfinished drawing on his tablet. He didn't answer.
"I've never had a partner, so I don't know what it's like," Arthit admitted, a rare honesty slipping into his tone. A tug at Daotok's sleeve forced his attention back. "Hey, look at me."
"Why should I?" Daotok muttered, though he still lifted his head, meeting those deep, dark eyes. He had never truly looked at them before. They were striking—so much so that he had the sudden urge to sketch them, to capture their intensity on paper.
"I want to say something important. Ready? I even prepared this at North's place."
Daotok blinked. "You went to North's?"
"Yeah, but that's not the point. Are you ready?"
"Yeah."
Arthit's gaze softened, though his voice remained steady. "I've never cared about love or anything like that. If I hadn't met you, I'd probably be alone forever. You're the first person to make me feel this way. Do you know? I've tried to move on, but I can't. I doubt I'll ever feel this way about anyone else."
Daotok sat motionless, breath held without realizing it. The words were unexpected, overwhelming. He had always been skeptical of confessions, always believed they were fleeting, but this one left him shaken. Why him? Why did it have to be him? "And even if you don't feel the same, that's fine,"
Arthit continued. "All I want is to be near you. So, since you're not going to be with anyone else... let me stay with you."
Daotok swallowed.
"Can I ask something?"
"What?"
"Did you feel bad when you hugged me?"
"Yeah."
"How bad?"
"Uncomfortable."
"Why?"
"It was too tight."
A hum of thoughtfulness. "Next time, I'll loosen up. Give me a chance. I'm not Kram, okay? Don't judge me based on him. Since you're not going to be with anyone else, just let me stay with you."
"Then you're the one who'll end up hurt."
"Why? Are you saying you'll never like me, no matter what?"
Daotok hesitated. "What if I am?"
Arthit smirked, undeterred. "I just told you I don't care what you think. But I bet you'll end up liking me eventually."
Daotok sighed again, pressing a hand to his forehead.
"That sigh means you've given up, right?"
"Yeah. I'm too tired to argue anymore."
"Okay," Arthit said cheerfully. "So it's a deal. Oh, let me add one condition."
"What is it?"
"You're not allowed to be with anyone else. Absolutely no one. You said yourself that you won't have anyone in your life. Don't tell me you'll stay single only to end up getting a partner and leave me hanging like a fool. I won't accept that." Before Daotok could form a response, Arthit stood up, his hand slipping away from Daotok's.
The absence left an unfamiliar warmth lingering on his skin. He barely had time to process it before Arthit leaned down, pressing a fleeting kiss against his forehead. Daotok's breath hitched. His entire body went still. Pulling back with a satisfied smirk, Arthit straightened.
"Consider that my little bonus. That's enough for today." He turned away, gathering his belongings from the sofa before heading to the door. The sound of it clicking shut should have brought Daotok relief. But then, just as quickly, the door swung open again. "Oh, and don't pressure yourself," Arthit said with a teasing grin. "Take your time to like me. I'm not in a hurry."