Me and Thee: English translation.

Wake up call #24

Peach wasn't much of a talker by nature. Whenever they ate together, it was usually a quiet affair-just the sound of utensils clinking softly against plates, with neither of them feeling the need to force a conversation. It was the kind of comfortable silence that wrapped around them like a warm blanket. Before Thee knew it, he'd become addicted to that quiet ease. But tonight was different. 

Despite it being a celebration he'd planned...Despite choosing a high-end Japanese restaurant, he knew Peach would love...Despite booking an extravagant omakase course, Peach had once mentioned wanting to try...Even though it's a good place, the atmosphere between them felt strained, stifling even, like the air was too thick to breathe.

Thee took a glance at Peach, sitting still and quiet next to him. His face was unreadable, his usual warmth reduced to a faint, polite smile whenever he accepted a dish from the chef behind the wooden counter. Even that smile never reached his eyes. Thee's chest tightened with frustration. He couldn't ignore the growing discomfort gnawing at his gut, and patience had never been his strong suit. 

Turning fully toward Peach, he crossed his arms, eyebrows drawing into a sharp frown. His narrowed eyes practically burned with pent-up irritation, itching for a release. But snapping at Peach wouldn't solve anything, no matter how tempting it felt.

"Are you mad at me?" he asked bluntly, his voice edged with a roughness he couldn't hide. Subtlety had never been Thee's forte. He was used to speaking with precision and intent, whether negotiating business deals or issuing calculated commands. But when it came to emotions he hadn't planned for, his words always came out unpolished and painfully direct.

Peach blinked, momentarily startled by the intensity in Thee's tone. After a beat, he took a small sip of tea before finally turning back to Thee. Thee's gaze was as calm and composed as ever.

"I wouldn't say I'm angry, but I'm definitely not pleased," Peach said calmly, his voice steady as always. He'd never been one to use sarcasm or beat around the bush. "You made me break my word about work, and of course, that's going to make me upset."

Thee pressed his lips together, understanding the words but unable to shake the irritation bubbling under his skin. The name Peach had casually mentioned earlier and the soft tone he'd used to say it only made his frustration spike.

"Hah! Is this about work, or is it about the person you were supposed to have lunch with?"

The mafia boss nearly bit his tongue the moment the words left his mouth. The long sigh Peach let out in response only made Thee's fists clench tighter, his knuckles whitening from the pressure.

"Mr Thee, can you be reasonable for a moment? I don't know what's going through your head, but what you did wasn't right." Peach's voice softened, like he was trying to calm a stubborn child throwing a tantrum.

"It doesn't matter who I had the appointment with or what it was about. If I made a promise, it's my responsibility to keep it unless there's an unavoidable emergency. That's just basic courtesy."

Theerakit pressed his lips, looked away. He knew he was being reprimanded. If anyone else had spoken to him like this, he wouldn't have even bothered to listen. At best, they'd get a cold laugh before he made them regret ever daring to cross him. But with Peachayarat? He felt utterly defeated. Frustrated, cornered, and powerless to do anything about it.

"So, you're saying someone else is more important than me?"

"I'm not saying anyone is more important than anyone else. This is about keeping promises and respecting others," Peach replied with unwavering seriousness, refusing to back down even an inch.

The cold look in Peach's eyes and his unreadable, stoic expression made Thee's chest tighten uncomfortably. That sharp, sinking feeling smothered the heat of his anger in an instant, leaving him feeling inexplicably hollow.

"If I'd told you beforehand, it wouldn't have been a surprise."

Thee said softly, his voice losing its earlier edge. For the first time, he realised he might not win this argument. He'd never been backed into a corner like this before, and he certainly wasn't used to not having a clever retort ready.

"Then you have to accept the risk that comes with it."

The mafia boss stole a glance at Peach, who seemed to have cooled down a bit, though he still wasn't back to his usual self. Thee would've preferred Peach to grumble or nag like he always did, rather than stay silent like this. This quiet felt like a wall slowly building between them, pushing Peach further away. Before he even realised what he was doing, Thee reached out and gently grasped Peach's wrist. His touch was light, almost hesitant, as if testing the waters. When Peach didn't pull away, Thee's fingers slid down to his palm, cradling it carefully.

"You're still upset with me about something else," Thee said, his brows furrowed. The tension in Peach's demeanour hadn't completely disappeared, and it left Thee feeling uncharacteristically unsure of himself.

It was strange letting someone else's emotions affect him like this. Other than his family, Thee had never cared about anyone's feelings, whether for better or worse. Anyone's moods had never swayed him, and those who irritated him had all met an unceremonious end. But he couldn't act that way with Peach. 

The memory of the faint red marks he'd left on Peach's wrist haunted him, gnawed at him. He hated the thought of hurting the man in any way, hated the idea of anyone else doing so even more. And yet, Peach's unspoken irritation had him feeling like he was walking on a bed of nails.

Peach eventually pulled his hand away, turning instead to accept another piece of sushi from the chef. He savoured it slowly, leaving Thee to stew in the silence. Only after cleaning his hands with a wet napkin did Peach finally look at him, his expression calm but serious.

"What do you think I'm upset about, Mr Thee?"

"Aside from me forcing you to come here, what else could it be?" He muttered, a hint of unexpected vulnerability slipping into his tone. Thee had booked this place with Peach in mind, yet here he was, getting scolded instead of thanked. Even though he understood the reasoning, he couldn't shake the pang of hurt. Since when did Theerakit have to feel hurt over someone?

He propped his elbow on the table and rested his chin in his hand, turning his face away with a sulky expression that could be seen from outside the restaurant. But Peach? He didn't seem the least bit fazed, looking more exasperated than anything. Why does he always have to look so fed up with me?

"And what do you think you did to upset me?" Peach asked calmly, not answering but flipping the question back to him. There was no sarcasm, just seriousness. 

"You've already asked me twice, which means you must have some idea of what you did wrong."

The mafia boss pressed his lips together, his eyes darting around to avoid Peach's gaze. Meanwhile, Peach waited patiently, making no effort to rush him, as if giving him time to figure it out on his own. The silence stretched uncomfortably until Thee finally blurted.

"You didn't like it when I said I'd take care of the bill, did you?" He frowned, rifling through his thoughts for anything that might have ticked Peach off. "Why? Doesn't everyone like money? Even when I work, I think about profits and gains."

"Of course, everyone wants money. I want money too," Peach replied with a nod. 

"There are times I wish I could just lie in bed all day and have money magically appear in my account." Peach nodded, but just as Thee was about to retort, Peach raised a hand to stop him, like he was training a dog to wait. Thee's brows furrowed slightly at the thought, but when his eyes met Peach's calm, clear gaze, his irritation melted away. Fine, he thought grudgingly, I'll play along.

"But besides money, I also love what I do. Do you know how much I had to fight for this? I took any job that came my way, anything that would pay. For a long time, it was just me and Plub. We only had each other." Peach continued, his tone steady and devoid of self-pity, not seeking sympathy or suggesting that his struggles had been particularly tragic. Peach wasn't the kind of person to wallow in misfortune.

"I knew I loved photography. But back then, doing what I loved felt like an unbearable burden. Cameras are expensive, and turning something I was passionate about into a career that could support both me and my brother? It felt impossible." 

Peach continued, his gaze dropping as a faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips, a nostalgic warmth creeping into his voice. He paused, his fingers brushing over the edge of the table as if tracing memories from the past. "I waited it out. Snuck into galleries just to see the exhibits. Picked up discarded cameras, fixed them up, and used them. Even with those beat-up, second-hand ones, I was happy just to be able to shoot."

Peach's tone was calm, steady, with no trace of bitterness or melodrama. Yet, Thee could feel the weight of every word, the mix of pain, ambition, and quiet determination. It wasn't pitiful; if anything, it made Peach shine brighter, his resilience and passion turning those hardships into something extraordinary.

"It took me a long time to get here. A lot of people gave me chances, helped me climb to where I am now, to become a full-fledged photographer." Peach admitted, looking back at Thee with a faint smile that carried both hope and a tinge of vulnerability. His eyes softened, but his voice grew firm.

"That's why I couldn't feel okay when you told me to stop working. Maybe my work doesn't seem as important as yours, but I love what I do."

Thee's brow furrowed deeply as he listened, absorbing the weight of Peach's words. He could feel the guilt sinking in, something unfamiliar and unsettling. And when he saw the nervous flicker in Peach's gaze, a mix of apprehension and fear, his chest tightened.

He'd seen that look before. Once. Back then, he'd sworn to himself he never wanted to see it again. Yet here it was, staring back at him. And the worst part? He was the one who'd caused it—again. He'd never felt mad at himself like this before.

"I was wrong. I didn't think about how you'd feel." Thee said quietly, his voice tight with regret. Peach's expression softened a little, but it was still like he was waiting for something more. "How can I make it up to you? I didn't mean to make you feel this way."

"You already know what I want," Peach said with a faint smile, his gaze dropping to the new plate of sushi the chef had set down in front of him. "But be careful, Thee. If you wait too long to say the right words, they might lose all their meaning." Thee frowned, his brows knitting together as his mind raced.

He'd always been the kind of guy to throw money at a problem, but he knew that approach wouldn't work with Peach. The memory of that wide, brilliant smile, the first one he'd seen from Peach—flickered in his mind. He wanted to see that smile again. Not this sombre, distant look.

"I'm sorry."

His voice was firm, the weight of his words mirrored in the smoky grey of his eyes as he held Peach's gaze. He wanted him to feel the sincerity, to know he truly regretted his actions. Peach froze for a moment before a small smile began to tug at the corners of his lips. It wasn't as radiant as before, but it was warm, carrying a hint of sweetness and quiet satisfaction. 

Thee exhaled deeply. The air between them wasn't entirely cleared, but at least the suffocating tension had lifted, replaced by a subtle, delicate warmth. Without realising it, a soft smile crept onto Thee's own face. It wasn't perfect, but it wasn't bad either.

Not far away, Thee's secretary discreetly let out a relieved sigh. For the first time in what felt like ages, he could finally breathe. He watched his boss for a moment, his expression caught somewhere between exasperation and disbelief. Was he imagining it, or did Thee suddenly seem like a big dog wagging its tail in delight?

Well, at least someone had managed to keep Thee in line. That was progress.

Letting his thoughts wander for a moment, Mok was snapped back to reality when he felt a vibration in his chest pocket. He pulled out his phone and glanced at the screen, his brows furrowing slightly at the caller ID. After a glance back at Thee to confirm the situation was under control, he nodded to one of the bodyguards to take over and quietly stepped out of the dining room. Walking down a side hallway, he answered the call with his usual composed tone.

"Hello."

[Oh, don't sound so distant. You're making me feel lonely, came the playful voice on the other end of the line, teasing just enough to make Mok roll his eyes, even though the caller couldn't see him.

"What can I do for you, Mr Krich?"

[Are you really not going to call me Rome like you did before?]

The voice on the other end softened, sounding heartbreakingly forlorn.

...But Mok knew better than to fall for that act.

[No worries, you can save it for when we're in bed, right?]

Before Krich even finished his sentence, the sorrowful tone shifted into something sly and teasing, laced with wicked amusement. Mok pinched the bridge of his nose, a sharp headache creeping in. He could already feel the need for a painkiller.

Keeping his voice calm and neutral, he shut down any opportunity for more mischief. "So, do you actually have something important to discuss?'

[Oh, so serious, Mr Secretary! And here I am, missing you terribly.]

"If there's nothing urgent, I'm going to hang up now."

[Wait! Wait! I just want to know-does my brother really have someone in his life now?] Krich's tone shifted again, this time carrying genuine curiosity. The serious note in Krich's voice made Mok pause, his finger hovering over the disconnect button. He knew how deeply Krich cared about his brother. Despite constant backstabbing among other mafia families, the Arseny brothers were fiercely loyal to one another, willing to die for each other if necessary. Having grown up alongside the two brothers, Mok knew better than anyone how unbreakable their bond was.

"No, he doesn't," Mok answered after a moment, frowning slightly as he considered his words. "To be more precise, it's like he has someone in mind, but nothing's moving forward yet."

The laughter that erupted from Krich on the other end was loud and full of mischief. Mok relaxed a little, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips as his eyes glinted with amusement.

[Nothing official, huh? But who knows, things might've progressed behind the scenes.] Rome's voice still carried a trace of laughter as he tried to sound serious again. [No, wait. Kian hates skinship. And let's be real, he doesn't take orders from anyone.]

Mok raised an eyebrow slightly, recalling the wistful look in Thee's eyes when Peach held his hand and how obediently he acted— almost like a dog with perked ears and a wagging tail. He couldn't help the faint smile that tugged at the corner of his lips.

"I think you might need to update your intel, Mr Krich." [Seriously? Well, dropping by next week should be interesting, then, Rome chuckled low in his throat, his surprise evident. Then, as if on cue, his voice shifted into a playful, syrupy tone. 

[But you know I'd only go there for you. My whole heart and soul are yours, Mok].

Mok's expression turned into one of exasperation. "If you don't have any actual business, I'm hanging up," he replied, his tone flat. Rome laughed again, feigning offence. 

"So coldhearted," he complained before his voice turned genuine.

[I miss you]

Mok didn't respond. Instead, he quietly ended the call, clutching the phone tightly to his chest. The thunderous pounding of his heart startled even himself, and his cheeks burned so hot he bit his lip to keep from smiling. The Arseny brothers are equally exhausting to deal with.