Me and Thee: English translation.

Wake up call #42

 

Thee's eyes widened in shock, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he leaned down and gently wrapped the elegant woman in a careful embrace.

 

"Mum? How did you get here?"

 

"Rome told me you had a surprise planned," she replied smoothly. "So I hopped on the next flight." Then, her sharp gaze shifted toward Peach, who stood awkwardly a few steps behind. "Is that the surprise you were talking about?" she asked, her tone icy but curious.

 

Peach flinched when her piercing eyes locked onto him. He'd been lost in thought for a moment and now scrambled to react. Hastily, he pressed his hands together in a respectful Thai greeting.

 

"Good evening, ma'am. I'm Peach..." He paused, glancing at Thee, who was staring back at him expectantly, practically beaming with anticipation. Peach took a small breath and forced a polite smile before turning back to the intimidating woman. 

 

"I'm Thee's boyfriend."

 

The moment those words left his mouth, Thee's face lit up like he'd just won the lottery, his satisfied grin nearly smug. Peach barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes and instead refocused on the woman in front of him, studying her with a mix of curiosity and caution.

 

He'd been stunned at first-his heart practically dropped to his stomach when she appeared, but hearing Thee call her "Mom" had been a strange relief. Now, with a clearer mind, he could finally take in her features.

 

Thee's mother was breathtakingly beautiful, her fierce, commanding eyes a perfect match for her son's. But beyond her striking looks and formidable presence, something about her seemed oddly familiar. Peach stared, his brow furrowing in thought until a sudden realisation hit him. If it's not a mistake...

 

"Are you Mrs Nat?"

 

As soon as he asked the question, the woman in front of him froze for a split second before fully turning toward him. Her sharp gaze was still intimidating, but the slight curve of her lips into a faint smile told him he had recognised the right person.

 

Nataladora Nat was a renowned actress often typecast as the eternal villainess, and a model with such raw sex appeal that photographers practically worshipped her. There was a time when she was more famous than leading actors and actresses combined. Known for her electrifying performances as fierce, cunning villains, she possessed a charm that made it impossible for viewers to look away.

 

But right at the peak of her career, when her star shone the brightest, Nat abruptly quit the industry to marry a man from outside the limelight. And, as it turned out, not only was her husband outside the entertainment world, but he was also living outside the country.

 

"My goodness, I didn't think anyone would still recognise me," she said, stepping closer, her piercing eyes studying him intently. But Peach barely noticed the scrutiny. 

 

His own eyes widened with excitement, sparkling with admiration as he found himself standing before his idol. For any photographer, a model like Nat was practically a dream come true. No matter the angle, she looked stunning in every shot.

 

"Of course, I remember you! You're an absolutely breathtaking model, Miss Nat. You look amazing from every angle, and you could bring out the mood and energy of any shoot. I've seen so much of your work—I'm a huge fan!" Peach said, his smile broad with enthusiasm.

 

Nat paused for a moment, taken aback, before breaking into a wide smile that lit up her face and softened her once-intimidating aura. Her sharp edges melted away in an instant. The next thing Peach knew, her elegant arm had wrapped itself around his shoulder, and she leaned into him with a warm, affectionate gesture.

 

"How adorable. How did you end up getting tangled up with Kian, of all people?" Her manicured fingers playfully brushed his cheek. That's when he realised something else about her: Nat was tall. So tall that she was nearly eye-to-eye with him, a grown man. "And where were you two off to, getting back so late?"

 

"I took him on a date. We were planning to have dinner back at the apartment." Thee replied smoothly, speaking to his mother without a shred of awkwardness. 

 

"Have you eaten yet, Mum?" he added. "Join us for dinner, won't you?"

 

"I've already eaten. How could you let him skip dinner? Fix something to eat now. As for Peach, you're coming to sit with me."

 

Without waiting for a response, she grabbed Peach's arm and ushered him to the couch. Peach glanced back at Kian, who gave him a small, apologetic smile. Though Kian's furrowed brows and worried expression weren't exactly reassuring, Peach had no choice but to let his boyfriend go and obediently follow Nat's lead. Kian disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Peach alone to face the formidable ex-actress.

 

Nat settled back into her spot on the large couch, patting the cushion beside her in a silent invitation or perhaps a command. Peach hesitated for a moment before giving her a sheepish smile and moving to sit right next to her. How was he supposed to stay calm? This wasn't just any woman—it was Nat! His idol. And on top of that, she was Kian's mom. Sitting this close to her felt like a dream and a nightmare rolled into one.

 

"So, tell me. What do you do for a living?" 

 

Nat said, her tone still carrying a faint edge of authority that seemed to come naturally to her. Her words had a sharpness to them, but the soft touch of her hand resting lightly on his gave Peach some reassurance. She even began to gently rub the back of his hand, a small gesture that helped him relax a little. She looked intimidating on the outside, but her actions felt surprisingly warm, like an older sister who cared more than she let on.

 

"I'm a freelance photographer. Right now, I'm doing some work for the Arseny Group."

 

"Oh, the fall collection shoot?" Nat's eyes lit up with recognition, and a flicker of excitement crossed her face. "Those photos were incredible! I kept saying how talented the photographer must be. The composition was outstanding, the balance, the angles, everything. Just perfect."

 

"Thank you," Peach said, beaming with pride. Coming from Nat, someone he deeply admired, the compliment hit harder than anything he'd ever heard before.

 

"And where's your family from?"

 

"I'm an orphan. I've never known who my parents were." Peach replied without hesitation, his tone even. "But I do have a little sister—she works in the art department at Arseny."

 

Nat frowned slightly, her expression tinged with concern. "So, no guardians? No older relatives who looked after you?"

 

"Unfortunately, none at all," Peach replied, managing to keep his smile, though it felt forced and hollow.

 

He hated to admit it, but his thoughts started spiralling out of control. As much as he teased Mr Thee for being obsessed with melodramas, his own brain couldn't help but dredge up overly dramatic dialogue from old soap operas he used to watch as a kid. Ironically, many of which starred the very woman sitting beside him now.

 

"Who am I supposed to negotiate with for the marriage proposal, then?" Nat muttered, shaking her head. Her tone sounded serious, and for a moment, Peach's stomach tightened in dread. "This won't do. Everything needs to be done properly. Kian's already lured you into staying over at his condo. This is practically a scandal! We can't let this slide. I'll have to arrange the formal engagement myself."

 

Peach's jaw dropped. He stared at her in shock, his mind blanking out as her words sank in. Meanwhile, Nat burst out laughing at his stunned reaction, her hand reaching up to ruffle his hair affectionately.

 

She knew all about him already, of course. In the mafia world, no one got close to someone like Kian—let alone became a significant part of his life without being thoroughly vetted. And Peach's background? Spotless. If anything, it was full of such relentless effort and determination that it made her heart ache with fondness.

 

"What's going through that head of yours? Did you really think I'd say I don't approve because you don't have a fancy background or some wealthy family name?" Nat asked, her tone teasing but kind.

 

Peach scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, caught red-handed. "I'm sorry... I didn't mean to assume anything bad about you. But it's true I’m nowhere near Kian's level. I'm... just me." 

 

His voice trailed off, and he gave her a small, sheepish smile. Despite teasing Kian for being overly dramatic, it turned out he wasn't much better. He'd clearly let his insecurities and a little too much daytime TV get to him. Nat's smile softened, her gaze sharpening with quiet intensity.

 

"Peach, you're Kian's happiness. Why would you say you're not enough? Are you trying to tell me that Kian's happiness doesn't matter?"

 

"No, it's not that," Peach replied softly, his smile faint but heartfelt. His eyes softened unconsciously as he spoke. "The love Kian has given me is the most precious thing I've ever received. But even so, while love might be about two people, being in a relationship isn't just between the two of us. Indeed, I don't care what outsiders think, but how could I possibly ignore how you feel about it?

 

Nat paused, her expression unreadable for a moment. She touched her lips with her fingers before a wide, genuine smile lit up her face, her eyes curving into crescents. Then, without warning, she pulled him into a hug.

 

"How can you be this sweet? No wonder you managed to win Kian over," she teased, cupping his face with both hands. Her touch was warm and affectionate, her thumbs brushing his cheeks gently. 

 

"Don't you worry about a thing, darling. Neither I nor his dad will have any issue with this. And all that nonsense about rich people needing to marry other rich people? That's just something fake rich folks say. Honestly, I'd much rather have someone help me spend all this money!"

 

Her half-serious, half-playful boasting caught him completely off guard, and Peach couldn't help but burst out laughing. For someone who was supposedly intimidating as the mother of a mafia boss, Nat was surprisingly charming and... well, adorable.

 

"But why don't you have any fancy stuff on you? Don't tell me Kian hasn't been taking care of you properly?" She asked suddenly, her eyes sweeping over him with mild confusion. "

 

"Oh, no, not at all. He takes really good care of me. It's just… I can't really handle expensive things like that. It's not my style."

 

He tried to smile, but the memory of all the extravagant gifts Kian had tried to force on him made his head spin.

"Kian's been trying to spoil you with big-ticket items, hasn't he?" Nat puffed out her cheeks slightly, clearly unimpressed. 

 

"After all the time I spent watching soap operas with him, you'd think he'd have learned something by now."

 

Peach blinked, taken aback. Wait... was that where Kian had gotten some of his habits?

 

"Does Kian actually like watching soap operas?" He wasn't sure why he found the idea so funny. But the mafia boss and dramatic TV shows didn't match at all.

 

"Dad has an entire cabinet full of my work. When Kian was little, he used to love going through it with me. But Rome? That boy would always run off to play outside the second I brought anything out." She let out a dramatic sigh, her expression exaggeratedly resigned.

 

"I like your work too. I even kept one of your posters."

 

"Oh my goodness," Nat gasped, her hand flying to her mouth, looking genuinely touched. "Why don't you just become my son instead? Tomorrow, we'll head straight to the courthouse and make it official."

 

"Absolutely not." Kian's deep, firm voice cut through the conversation before he appeared in the doorway, carrying a plate of food. His sharp features were tinged with a slight frown, but there was a hint of restraint in his expression-likely because he didn't dare show too much disapproval in front of his mother. 

 

"If you adopt him, how am I supposed to marry Peach?"

 

"When exactly do you plan on getting married? I'll prepare everything in advance." Nat shot back, entirely unbothered, her tone almost challenging. 

 

"Peach, sweetheart, what kind of wedding do you want? A beach wedding? Or maybe in the mountains? Oh, a meadow full of flowers would be so romantic, don't you think?'

 

Peach was utterly flustered, his face turning crimson as he tried to process her words. Thee, who had been quietly observing, now furrowed his brow as if ready actually to help plan the wedding. Stuck in the middle of this chaotic exchange, Peach threw up his hands in panic, desperately trying to stop them.

"Wait, hold on—please, let's not get ahead of ourselves, Kian, Mrs Nat-"

 

"If you keep calling me Mrs Nat instead of Mom, I'm driving you straight to the courthouse tomorrow to sign the adoption papers!" she declared, narrowing her eyes with a mock pout. Her tone was stubborn and petulant, so much so that it was eerily similar to Kian's whenever he was annoyed. Like mother, like son.

 

Peach froze, blinking at her for a moment. Then a small smile crept onto his lips, soft and warm. For someone who had spent so much of his life unseen, unloved, the way she showered him with care and affection was unlike anything he'd ever known.

 

"Alright... Mum."

 

"What a good boy," she said fondly, tugging him gently to his feet. "Now, it's time for dinner. I heard you have a sensitive stomach, Peach. Skipping meals and eating at odd hours is a big no-no, okay?"

 

"You're not staying to eat with us, Mum?" Peach asked, standing up as Nat gently nudged him to his feet. His polite and thoughtful demeanour brought a soft smile to her lips, and she couldn't resist pulling her new "son" into another hug, clearly pleased.

 

"It's okay, sweetheart. I've already eaten," Nat replied with a playful wink. "Besides, I don't want to crash Kian's date for too long. Otherwise, I'll have to deal with his sulking later."

 

"Just admit it, Dad's flying in after you," Kian teased, stepping closer and effortlessly slipping an arm around Peach's waist, pulling him back into a loose embrace. Nat rolled her eyes, feigning annoyance, but her tone remained lighthearted.

 

"Oh, hush. You're such a jealous one, Kian," she said, swatting at him before turning back to Peach. She cupped his face gently, her gaze warm and affectionate. "Take care of each other, alright? You've got to be patient with him, though."

 

Peach folded his hands together and gave her a respectful wai, watching as Nat made her way toward the door. Thee instinctively moved to follow and see her off, but when they noticed the cluster of bodyguards already waiting outside, Nat waved him back with a firm, " Just send her to the door. 

Kian stood by the doorway, watching until Nat had stepped into the elevator. Once it whisked her away, he let out a small sigh and turned back inside, heading straight for Peach, who had wandered over to the dining table.

 

Set on the table was a perfect spread of cold soba noodles. The light-brown strands were neatly coiled on a wooden tray, resting atop a bed of ice. Beside it was a bowl of chilled broth, with wisps of cool steam rising faintly from the surface. On another plate sat a tempting assortment of tempura-crisp prawns and vegetables, fried to golden perfection. 

 

Peach blinked, surprised by the thoughtful meal in front of him. It was true that cold soba was one of his favourite dishes, and the weather had been scorching lately, but he hadn't expected Kian to go out of his way to prepare something he liked.

 

"Did you make all this yourself?" Peach asked, wide-eyed.

 

"I just boiled the noodles. The broth's store-bought, and the tempura—I asked the housekeeper who came by to clean earlier to fry it fresh for us. Still hot and crispy." 

 

Even though Kian had just been scolded by his mother about being less overbearing, the satisfied tilt of his lips betrayed how pleased he was with Peach's reaction. Watching Peach's face light up like that made it all worth it.

 

They settled down across from each other at the table, picking up their chopsticks to grab the soft, chewy soba noodles. One by one, they dipped the strands into the chilled broth, swirling them around to soak up the flavour before taking a bite. The subtle sweetness of the broth filled the air, and Peach closed his eyes, savouring the rich aroma and taste with a satisfied smile.

 

After finishing dinner, Thee gathered the plates and bowls, stacking them neatly in the sink to be dealt with by the housekeeper the next day. Meanwhile, Peach made himself comfortable on the sofa in front of the massive TV, casually scrolling through the options to find something to watch.

 

His favourite spot in the penthouse was undoubtedly this one: the plush sofa perfectly positioned in front of the enormous screen. It wasn't just soft and cosy; it was also stocked with a mountain of pillows and blankets, almost as if someone had known exactly what he liked. 

The massive TV offered access to every streaming platform imaginable, with so many options that picking a movie often took longer than actually watching one.

 

As he flipped through the selections with the remote, Thee joined him, a sleek wine glass in hand. Peach didn't drink alcohol, so the glass was clearly for Thee himself. The mafia boss sat down really close, draping an arm over Peach's shoulders and gently pulling him closer. His long fingers began tracing slow circles on Peach's shoulder, radiating a sense of calm that Peach couldn't help but sink into.

 

Blushing furiously, Peach tried to steady his breathing, his heart thundering in his chest. But as the warmth of Thee's presence wrapped around him like a blanket, the nervous energy began to melt away. Instead, a quiet sense of comfort settled in, and he let himself relax, leaning into Thee's chest with a soft, contented sigh.

 

Thee sipped his wine a few more times, his eyes softening as he gazed down at the man nestled in his arms. His expression was so tender it practically glowed. Leaning in slowly, his tall frame hovered over Peach, and he pressed a firm, lingering kiss to his temple.

 

"Can I kiss you?"

 

Peach couldn't help but smile. The mafia boss was always so careful, always asking for permission before touching him, as though Peach might shy away or say no. But not only did he not mind—it flustered him in the best possible way. His cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of pink as he let out a shy, slightly exasperated laugh.

 

"You don't have to ask every single time."

 

"I can't do that. I don't want you to feel forced," Thee murmured, moving closer before pressing a soft kiss to Peach's smooth forehead. Peach felt like burying his face in his hands, overwhelmed by the tenderness. He wanted to shout that asking for permission every single time just made him blush harder.

 

"I wouldn't feel forced," Peach mumbled, his cheeks still glowing pink. Tilting his head up slightly, he pressed a small kiss to the sharp edge of Thee's jawline. 

 

"If there's ever anything I don't like, I'll tell you. And when that happens, you'll stop, right?"

 

"I'm afraid if I don't stop in time, I'll end up hurting you." Thee said, his lips brushing against Peach's flushed cheek as he trailed kisses, slow and deliberate, as if savouring every inch.

 

Peach couldn't help but smile, wide and warm. No matter how flustered he felt, the affection in his chest far outweighed his embarrassment. He shifted into a more comfortable position, lifting both arms to wrap around Thee's neck. His sparkling eyes met Thee's in a soft, almost pleading gaze.

 

"If it's you, I trust you. You'd never hurt me, Thee."

 

The mafia boss stilled for a moment, his throat letting out a low, rumbling hum as though he was struggling to keep himself in check. Thee pressed his lips together tightly, then wet them with his tongue, his gaze locking onto Peach's serious, intense, and brimming with desire. It was as though all his restraint snapped in an instant.

 

"You're too damn cute, Peach."

 

Thee groaned, capturing Peach's lips in a deep, fervent kiss. His mouth moved with purpose, his teeth tugging at Peach's lower lip, coaxing it to part before slipping his tongue inside with practised ease. Their tongues entwined, teasing and exploring as Thee claimed every inch. The faint bitterness of fine wine lingered in Thee's mouth, mingling with Peach's own sweetness. 

 

He pressed deeper, his tongue gliding along Peach's teeth before tangling with his again, drawing out soft whimpers and shaky breaths. Thee didn't stop, savouring everything like it was the most intoxicating thing he'd ever tasted. Every so often, Thee pulled back just enough to let Peach catch his breath before diving back in.

 

Thee pulled back slightly, his dark eyes scanning the breathless photographer slumped against his shoulder. Peach was panting softly, his chest rising and falling as if he'd forgotten how to breathe. His gaze shimmered with unshed tears, so tender and sweet that Thee had to swallow hard to ground himself, forcing his scattered thoughts back into order.

 

"I don't think I can stop myself anymore, Peach," Thee murmured, his voice low and hoarse. 

 

"If you want me to, you'll have to tell me to stop right now." His lips dipped down again, catching Peach's lower lip in a series of gentle nips and soft sucks, alternating between teasing and pleading, like he was begging for permission while proving just how much he was losing control.

 

For someone like Thee man who had never lacked for companionship and had never been asked to hold back for anyone, this was unfamiliar territory. This was Peach, the one person he wanted to protect, to cherish more than life itself.

 

Peach felt his cheeks flush hot, his pulse racing. He wasn't naive; he understood exactly what Thee was implying. But instead of fear or hesitation, there was an odd flutter of excitement, a quiet anticipation that made his heart pound even harder. And then, without a word, he leaned up and kissed Thee, his actions speaking louder than any verbal permission ever could.

 

The movie continued playing on the giant screen, but neither of them paid it any attention now.