Me and Thee & Calm down Mr Rome Special.

Wake Up Call Special #13

They relocated to a café inside a shopping mall. Without hesitation, Thee pulled out a sleek black credit card, handed it over and ordered the staff to close the place for an hour. The staff took the card with trembling hands, nodding frantically before hurrying to clear the café. Ah, the power of money.

 

Peach sat across from the middle-aged woman, while Thee, despite allowing them to talk privately, refused to wait outside. He took a seat at the table behind them with Rome and Mok, his sharp gaze never straying from his lover. If Peach so much as looked the slightest bit upset, there would be hell to pay.

 

The photographer let out a quiet sigh, his lips curling into the faintest smile. He could feel Thee's piercing stare burning into him, but rather than making him uncomfortable, it oddly put him at ease.

 

"Peach," the woman finally spoke, her voice laced with hesitation. "It's been a long time. How have you been, sweetheart?"

 

"What do you want?" Peach cut in, his tone polite but distant, making it clear he had no interest in small talk or forced familiarity.

 

"Are you still angry at me?" Malee asked, her voice trembling, but her eyes darted around anxiously, restless and uneasy. Was she really this nervous after all these years, or was it just an act?

 

"If you have something to say, say it now. I have things to do."

 

Like picking out presents for the kids at home an important mission. And if he took too long, Thee would probably end up buying the entire department store for them instead.

 

"Peach, I understand that you were upset, so much so that you ran away from home. But you were just a child back then. You couldn't possibly understand what I was going through."

 

She paused, sighing deeply, shoulders sagging as if she were nothing more than a helpless, fragile woman with nowhere else to turn.

 

"And did you ever stop to think about what two kids under ten had to go through?"

 

Peach's voice was steady, almost too calm. He reached for his iced Americano, taking a slow sip as he watched Malee carefully. His unreadable expression only made her more unsure of what to expect. The boy she remembered had been small, frail, barely reaching her waist. He had been timid, soft-hearted, easy to control. But the man sitting in front of her now cold, composed, unreadable was nothing like the child she once knew. But she had no other choice. This was her last chance.

 

"I know you were hurt. And I know I let you down," she pleaded. "But back then, I had no choice."

 

"You did," Peach interrupted, his voice quiet but firm, laced with something almost like disappointment. "You always had a choice. And you chose to let your own children die."

 

The middle-aged woman flinched, her shoulders trembling. Whatever words she had prepared got stuck in her throat, leaving her with nothing but an awkward, wavering smile. 

 

"Peach, that's a bit harsh, don't you think?" she tried to laugh it off. "It was just a little illness. Kids get sick all the time; it's normal."

 

Peach lifted his gaze, dark eyes that once held warmth now cold and razor-sharp. The intensity of his stare made her throat dry up, making her unable to meet his eyes.

 

"Do you have any idea how many children die from high fever each year?" His voice was steady, unforgiving. "Or how many die from domestic violence?"

 

Malee pressed her lips together, tight and pale. She had no answer. And Peach never expected a woman who could abandon her own children to know those numbers anyway.

 

"You've been dead to my sister and me for a long time," he continued, voice calm but absolute. “And I sincerely hope you consider your children dead to you as well." Only one person at the next table could hear the restraint in his tone, could see just how much effort it took for him to stay composed.

 

"Wait, Peach! Please listen! I'm sorry. Give me another chance," Malee pleaded, her voice raw with desperation. Tears welled in her eyes and spilt over effortlessly. 

 

"You're the only one who can help me. I have no one else."

 

Peach didn't even blink. Strange. A mother's tears should mean something, shouldn't they? Shouldn't they stir at least a little sympathy? But they didn't. Not even a flicker of emotion passed through him. If anything, the sight of her crying only solidified one truth. If that made him heartless, then so be it.

 

"Calling yourself a mother only when you need something from me, don't you feel even a shred of shame?"

 

Peach gritted his teeth, every word dripping with a pain so sharp it felt like his heart was being carved into pieces. "Stop trying to contact me. We're strangers. And for the rest of this lifetime, let's keep it that way."

 

He had made peace with the fact that she never loved him. But knowing it in his head was one thing; hearing it, seeing it with his own eyes, that was something else entirely. 

 

Pushing his chair back, he stood up. "Goodbye." That was all he said. Panic flared in Malee's eyes. Desperation clawed at her chest as she shot up from her seat, reaching out blindly, fingers digging into his arm so hard her nails left angry crescents on his pale skin.

 

Peach froze. His breath hitched, his entire body locking up as if someone had just flipped a switch inside him. His skin turned ghostly white, and his wide eyes remained fixated on her hand clamped around his arm. But before anyone could react before even he could react something warm and firm covered his eyes, plunging his world into darkness.

 

A sharp scream rang out, followed by the sudden release of his arm. The pain still throbbed where her nails had dug in, but that barely registered. Because wrapped around him, surrounding him, was the familiar scent of cologne deep, musky, unmistakably Thee. Heat pressed against his back, steady and solid. A strong arm curled protectively around his waist, holding him close, grounding him. The tension in his body melted away in an instant. He now realised he was safe.

 

"Throw her out." Theerakit's voice was low and even, but the restrained fury in it was impossible to miss. It crackled beneath his words, barely held in check. But his arms his arms were steady, careful, gentle as they held Peach close, like he was something fragile, something precious. Peach let out a breath, a small, tired smile touching his lips. He couldn't see a thing, yet somehow, he felt lighter than he had in years.

 

"You're okay now, sweetheart. I'm right here." Thee's voice was a murmur against his ear, warm and soothing. One hand rested on his head, fingers brushing through his hair in slow, calming strokes.

 

Peach closed his eyes, letting himself relax into the embrace. The fear, the anger, the exhaustion it all faded into the background.

 

"I'm okay." His voice was soft, steady. He reached up, fingers brushing against the hand covering his eyes before gently pulling it away. Then he looked up, gaze meeting Thee's. His dark eyes still held a trace of weariness, but beneath that, they were warm. Grateful. 

 

"Thank you, Kian."

 

"You don't need to thank me." Thee pressed a firm kiss to the top of his head, then another, and another.

 

"You're my love. You're my family. Whatever it is, whatever happens, I'll take care of it."

 

Peach's smile widened, something warm and light blooming in his chest because of Thee's words. Yes. This was family.

 

Theerakit finally loosened his grip, pulling his hand away from Peach's eyes when he saw the younger man start smiling again. He gently lifted Peach's arm, inspecting it with a furrowed brow. Peach's skin was naturally pale, made even paler by his tendency to spend his days either in a studio or in front of a computer screen, barely seeing the sun. So when someone grabbed him that hard, it left an angry red imprint-fingers and nails pressed deep enough to leave marks, though thankfully, not enough to break the skin.

 

Thee's expression darkened in an instant, his jaw clenching as an icy rage settled in his eyes. 

 

"I should've dealt with her properly, shouldn't I”'

 

Despite the barely contained fury in his words, Thee held himself back. He still remembered the last time he acted on impulse-how it had earned him days of Peach's silent, stubborn anger. And that was worse than any fight. Peach, ever the peacemaker, stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Thee, resting his head against the taller man's chest. He mumbled against the fabric of his shirt, his voice casual, almost dismissive. "Just let it go. As long as she stays out of my life and Plub's, that's enough for me."

 

"But she hurt you," Thee growled, frustration simmering beneath his words. Yet, despite his anger, his arms instinctively tightened around Peach, holding him close, as if that alone could erase what had happened.

 

"It doesn't hurt anymore. Not when I have you to hold me." Peach tilted his head back, flashing a cheeky lopsided grin. Thee nearly lost it right then and there. That mischievous glint in Peach's eyes, the way he smiled as he knew exactly what effect he had, was enough to make any man weak. He wanted to throw Peach over his shoulder and drag him back to their room. Maybe remind him exactly who he belonged to. Peach, unfortunately or maybe fortunately, knew him too well. The second he saw that predatory gleam in Thee's eyes, he backed up, pressing a hand against his mouth before he could lean in any closer.

 

"Let's not get distracted, yeah? We still need to go buy gifts for the kids."

 

"I could just buy them the whole damn mall."

 

Thee bent down and effortlessly scooped him up in his arms. Without sparing a glance at anyone around them, he strode off, completely ignoring Peach's startled yelp and protests echoing behind him.

 

Mok let out a long, weary sigh. At least Peach had managed to keep Thee from going ballistic. That was more than anyone else could've done. His gaze drifted toward the back of the café, where Rome had taken the woman away. With measured steps, Mok walked toward the back room and pushed the door open. Inside, Malee sat trembling on the floor, her shoulders hunched in fear. Standing over her, arms crossed, was none other than the current head of the Arseny family.

 

"I warned you." Mok stepped inside, his expression unreadable, his voice cool and even. "I told you to stay out of his life," Mok continued, his dark eyes void of emotion. "I told you not to show your face to Peach again."

 

"H-He's my son... You-you people are the outsiders! You have no right to keep me away!"

Malee's lips trembled, but despite the fear in her eyes, she pressed on, stubborn as ever. She clung to that last shred of defiance, even as her voice wavered.

 

Her foreign husband hadn't come home in over a week. That alone was enough of a warning sign. She knew what it meant. He had grown bored of her. Soon, there would be another woman in her place, another pretty face to dote on. She would be cast out soon.

 

Mok furrowed his brows, about to say something, but Rome raised a hand to stop him. His expression was thunderous, barely concealing the fury simmering beneath the surface. Some people just weren't worth talking to nicely.

 

"Do you even realise that Peach is married? That he has a family now?"

 

Rome's voice was cold, cutting through the air like a blade. His sharp gaze bore into Malee, making her shudder involuntarily. Whatever words she had prepared vanished in an instant.

 

"And you should also know that your son's husband is an Arseny." His tone was deliberate, each syllable striking like a hammer. The more he spoke, the more the blood drained from Malee's face. "Peach belongs to the Arseny family now. You have nothing to do with him anymore."

 

Malee crumpled to the floor, eyes wide with shock. His words echoed in her head, bouncing off the walls of her mind like a relentless drumbeat. She wasn't well-educated, but anyone living abroad long enough had heard the name Arseny at least once. One of the most powerful mafia families in the world. And her son-her son, who ran away from home somehow ended up tied to people like that?

 

"This is your final warning," Rome said, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "Don't ever let Peach or Plub see your face again. If you do, I'll make sure you disappear for good."

 

Rome gave one final warning before taking Mok's hand and leading him out of the shop, leaving the woman behind without so much as a glance back.

 

Mok lifted his gaze to the man walking beside him. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, and the fingers entwined with Rome's tightened just a little more.

 

Rome had always been sensitive when it came to family, partly because of Mok's own painful past, one Rome often regretted not being able to change. Mok had told him before that just having someone stand by his side was enough. But clearly, Rome still couldn't accept that.

 

"Why bother wasting words on someone like her?" Rome muttered, still bristling with frustration. "She only cares about herself. Peach was dealt a shitty hand, getting stuck with a mother like that."

 

Protective as ever. Fiercely loyal, fiercely loving. Just like his brother. "What's so funny?" Rome shot him a look, his grip tightening. 

 

"Can't I just be happy?"

 

Rome held his eyes for a moment before his own lips curved; their hearts seemed to fall into sync.