Me and Thee: English translation.

Wake up call #8

 

A famous Japanese restaurant in the heart of the city, known not just for its authentic Japanese ingredients but also for bringing in chefs straight from renowned restaurants in Japan. They spared no effort to deliver the finest dishes, which explains why each plate comes with a price tag so steep that saving up all year might only get you a single serving.

 

On the upper floor, in one of their private rooms boasting an open view of the river, sat two men amidst an array of exquisite dishes spread across the table. This room, notoriously difficult to book, was the most sought-after spot in the restaurant. It didn't take a genius to figure out the kind of connections one would need to secure this room on short notice. Yet, the man who pulled strings to get this luxurious room didn't seem the least bit interested in soaking up the ambience or savouring the carefully crafted dishes in front of him. Instead, his irritation was practically radiating off him, making the air in the room heavier than it already was.

 

The tight knot of frustration in Thee's chest, which had been building up ever since he left the studio, hadn't loosened one bit. He'd come here with the sole purpose of meeting that photographer. He'd even had his secretary make the booking in a hurry just to ensure they could meet today. But when he arrived, the person he'd gone to all this trouble barely acknowledged his existence.  The guy didn't even glance his way, either. He caught up, whispering and cosying up to the director instead.

 

Thee told himself to calm down. At least Peach was still making an effort to fulfil his responsibilities. Letting out a slow, controlled breath, Thee tried to centre himself. There was no point in being mad when he couldn't even pinpoint what exactly had ticked him off in the first place. He needed to focus on the here and now.

 

"The food looks amazing," Aran blurted out, breaking the awkward silence with a nervous edge to his voice, and every muscle in his body on high alert. It wasn't just because of Thee, the man he had a history of bad blood with—it was also because Thee happened to be the chairman of the company he worked for, and the mafia boss, to top it all off. If it weren't for wanting to help Peach, Aran wouldn't have agreed to be here, not in a million years.

 

Theerakit didn't say a word. His tall frame was relaxed as he leaned back, arms crossed, gaze steady and unreadable. The lack of any visible emotion only made Aran feel more out of place.

 

"It's such a shame Peach couldn't come," Aran ventured, trying to make small talk as he fidgeted with his chopsticks. His tone turned a bit brighter as he added, "Peach loves Japanese food, but I actually prefer Thai food myself."

 

"Seems like he did." His tone was flat, but there was a faint, barely noticeable twitch at the corner of his lips. 

 

"Yeah, Peach doesn't like anything too spicy. He's got stomach issues, so Japanese food's perfect for him—it's pretty mild overall," Aran said, relaxing a little as he shifted the topic to someone else. He picked up a piece of tamagoyaki and popped it into his mouth, savouring the sweet flavour. Spicy food was more his thing, though, and when it came to desserts, he was an absolute sucker for anything sweet.

 

"Oh, by the way, I haven't thanked you yet. Thanks for the banquet of flowers and the chocolates today, too."

 

Thee's eyes snapped up, his thick brows knitting together instantly. He looked genuinely caught off guard, like he'd just missed something important.

 

"Thanked me? For what?"

 

"The flower banquet. They were beautiful—I loved them." Aran clarified, his smile faltering slightly as uncertainty crept in. For a second, he wondered if someone had tattled about the bouquet getting tossed out earlier. Either way, he figured he should clear things up and show his appreciation for the gesture. "And the chocolates you sent through Peach, thank you for those too. They smelled amazing. A bit too bitter for my taste, though. Peach really enjoyed them, though."

 

Arseny, the brand owner, fell silent, a strange and unfamiliar mix of emotions swirling in his chest. A mafia boss who always got what he wanted, and he was notoriously possessive. Anything—or anyone-he considered his was guarded fiercely, sometimes to the point of irritation. Whether it was his possessions or his people, he never failed to assert his claim. But now, he wasn't sure what was bothering him more; it was because the model in front of him couldn't stop talking about that photographer. Or was it the fact that the chocolates he had specifically intended for someone else had ended up being enjoyed by someone else entirely?

 

He frowned, lowering his gaze as he worked to calm himself. Once his emotions were back under control, he lifted his eyes to meet those of the person across from him. The person sitting in front of him still managed to captivate his attention. That stunning face, beautiful and handsome all at once, was exactly his type. Those flushed cheeks seemed to be begging for a touch, and those big, sparkling eyes kept glancing at him nervously.

 

He found the nervous energy endearing, almost protective. This was someone he was interested in, the very person he had set his sights on that day. After concluding this to himself, Theerakit visibly relaxed and shifted his focus back to the conversation, pushing away the lingering image of the photographer's simple, honest smile.

 

"How's work been?" he asked casually.

 

"It's been great! Everyone on the team is so kind," Aran replied with a soft smile, easing up a little as he realised Theerakit was continuing the conversation. "Peach takes such amazing photos, too. He was guiding me the whole time. If it weren't for him, the pictures wouldn't have turned out nearly as good as they did."

 

"Pity I haven't seen them yet," Theerakit remarked, mentally noting to have his assistant track down the photos for him.

 

"The originals should still be with Peach. He said he needed to do some edits first so the art team wouldn't have too much trouble. I can let him know to send them to you if you'd like."

 

Thee paused for a moment, a flicker of satisfaction crossing his sharp eyes. Any thought of ordering his assistant to handle it disappeared from his mind almost instantly.

 

"No need. I'll just ask Peach about it myself later," he said, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips before quickly vanishing. His piercing gaze flicked to his companion, who immediately tensed up again, their eyes darting around like they were deep in thought, clearly overthinking.

 

People always acted like this around him—on edge, a mix of apprehension and fear. If not that, then it was greed, those expectant eyes hoping to gain something from him. It was rare, if not unheard of, for anyone to be genuinely at ease in his presence.

 

Except maybe for that photographer who always seemed unbothered, especially when food was involved—then Peach's mood was downright cheerful. Theerakit froze, realising Peachayarat had somehow crept back into his thoughts again, even though he'd just promised himself not to think about him anymore.

 

"Are you and that photographer close?"

 

The words slipped out before he could stop himself, his mind still muddled and conflicted. Across from him, Arseny brightened slightly at the mention of his dear friend, even though his smile still looked a bit stiff and nervous.

 

"Very close, actually. I think of Peach as an older brother," Arseny said, lowering his eyes to the fish on his plate. He carefully picked at it before continuing, "He's so kind and gentle. I honestly don't get how some of those women could treat him so cruelly."

 

The mafia boss's frown deepened with every word, though he still couldn't quite figure out what was irritating him so much. Lowering his gaze, he absently reached for the wine glass beside him, slowly swirling it between his fingers.

 

"How did you two meet?"

 

"I was feeling pretty down at the time, I'd just found out I didn't get into the university I wanted. Peach happened to be there and asked me to model for some photos. That's how it started. If it weren't for him, I wouldn't be a model today. I owe everything to him." Aran chuckled softly; the sound laced with genuine fondness. For the first time, he felt grateful for that failed exam, a moment that had turned out to be a blessing in disguise.

 

"That day, I didn't feel like going home, so Peach even let me crash at his place. He's so kind, even to a stranger."

 

Mafia's hand tightened around the stem of his wine glass, his knuckles turning white as his brow twitched with annoyance. It was only for a moment, though; once he realised his reaction, he forced himself to relax, loosening his grip. He can't lose his cool over the story that Aran went to sleep in that photographer's room.

 

He told himself firmly, though the simmering frustration in his chest didn't dissipate easily. His sharp eyes darkened with irritation, and he had to close them briefly to rein in his emotions. When he opened them again, his gaze was calmer, though the faint edge hadn't entirely faded. He drained the last of his wine before steering the conversation elsewhere.

 

"What about that young actor? Are you two dating?"

 

The question made Arseny's delicate face flush as he bit his lip and avoided meeting Theerakit's eyes. His cheeks turned faintly pink, and though he shook his head, his embarrassment was written all over him.

 

"...We're not dating," he mumbled.

 

Theerakit's eyes narrowed slightly as he studied the scene before him. The sight was unexpectedly captivating, the blush spreading across Aran's cheeks, those big, glassy eyes shimmering as if on the verge of tears, and his soft lips pressed together nervously. It was a picture of innocence and sweetness. Blushing over another man's name... Strangely enough, Theerakit didn't feel annoyed this time.

 

"So, you're saying you're wooing each other?" he asked, testing the waters. Aran hesitated for a moment but eventually gave a small nod. “In that case," Theerakit said, his tone teasing.

 

"If I were to make a move, that means I'd still have a chance, right?"

 

The unexpected response made Arseny's head snap up, his wide eyes filled with shock. The faint pink of his cheeks deepened into a full-blown blush that crept up to the tips of his round ears.

 

"W-what? Me?" Aran stammered, glancing around nervously as if searching for an escape. "That's... no good! I don't like talking to more than one person at a time. I'd rather focus on getting to know someone properly, one step at a time!"

 

"I don't need to talk to you-I just plan to woo you," Theerakit said, leaning back against his chair and crossing his arms. Though his flustered reaction was amusing, like a startled little animal scrambling for safety, his heart remained utterly still.

 

It wasn't surprising. Ever since he officially took over as his father's successor, nothing had managed to rattle him. He'd learned the hard way that letting anything hold sway over his emotions could make him vulnerable, a weakness he could never afford

 

"Wait, you're going to woo me without talking to me?" Arseny echoed, blinking in confusion. "Doesn't that sound a little... odd?"

 

Thee cast a sidelong glance at the bewildered model, then lowered his gaze. Arseny didn't seem thrilled by the idea but was too intimidated to reject him outright. Instead, he stammered and faltered, which only made him seem exasperated. There was only one person who had ever dared speak to him frankly-that photographer.

 

His hand, idly toying with his wine glass, froze for a moment. For reasons he couldn't explain, his thoughts drifted back to that guy yet again. Even with the model he had been so determined to pursue sitting right in front of him, his focus wandered elsewhere.

 

Stranger still, the burning desire to claim the person in front of him, the heat that usually drove him, was ebbing away bit by bit. He hadn't even kissed Aran yet, but a sense of weariness had already started to creep in. It wasn't like this was new. He had gone through countless short-lived flings and fiery nights with a parade of faces. The moment boredom or irritation set in, his interest would vanish in the blink of an eye. But losing interest this quickly, before so much as a kiss, was definitely a first.

 

Theerakit took another slow sip of wine, letting its warmth calm him. Deep down, he was oddly relieved to have concluded. After all, he was a mafia boss, a man who lived on his own terms. He didn't need to chase after reasons for anything.

He was already tired of this model. And there was someone else—someone far more intriguing occupying his mind.

 

"How long have you been working with Peach?"

 

Aran blinked, caught off guard. His earlier shyness quickly evaporated, replaced by confusion. Just moments ago, they had been talking about something entirely different. He didn't expect the conversation to take such a sudden turn.

 

"I've known Peach for about five years now," he said after a beat. "But we've only worked together maybe four or five times." He paused, thinking it over, the corners of his mouth lifting in a small, sweet smile. 

 

"But if we're talking about long-term projects, this is the first one. The campaign with Arseny is a first for me."

 

The set, featuring perfumes and accessories, was designed to launch in four collections, each tied to a different season. Arseny and Tawan were the brand's main ambassadors, alternating campaigns across all four seasons. Peachayarat, a renowned photographer, had been entrusted with all the promotional shoots.

 

"That's good," Theerakit replied, his sharp gaze flicking up to meet Arseny's. "Eat as much as you like, it's on me. But I need to head out."

 

Aran quickly bowed his head in polite acknowledgement, offering a formal goodbye. Thee gave him a curt nod, rose from his seat, and turned to give a few quiet instructions to his men. Then, just as he was about to leave, he turned back to Aran, his tone firm.

 

"I've told my people to take you home. They'll drive you back to your condo."

 

"Don't sleep in Peach's room ever again."