Chapter 13: The 'Threat.'

Est

The morning light spilt in through the open windows, hitting Est's eyes like a sharp needle.

He groaned and squeezed his eyelids shut, hoping to block the light away. However the brightness remained, burning a discomforting hole through his lids.

His eyes squinted open and a sharp ache washed over him. He felt like his head was being split open.

Everything in the room felt blurry, as he was looking through a steamy window covered in very bright light. He laid still, trying to see through the haze, even when it only made his head pound faster.

Slowly, painfully so, it began to clear.

He blinked several times, the moisture in his eyes stinging, until the shapes around him stopped shifting and took form.

That was when he realized he was in his room, lying in his own bed.

He pressed his palm against his forehead, trying to quell the pain. His brain felt like it was rattling inside his skull. The headache was getting worse, a sharp, throbbing pulsed.

As he lay there, staring at the walls, the familiar furnishings around, the memories of the night before started to return.

It came back in brief flashes, which somehow only heightened the pain in his head.

He remembered his nightmare— William's gun against Tui's head, the dark, suffocating feeling of being unable to move, of being useless. He remembered jolting awake, and finding William standing there. He remember him settling on the bed, looking like a shadow in the dark, his presence strong and intimating as always. He remembered William's bored curious questions, remembered his honest answers. He remembered the suggestion to get drunk had come from him.

Why the fuck has he done that?

Est couldn't understand himself, pressing his palm even harder, as if to scold himself.

Then, he remembered the game— Truth or Drink. How they had curled up on the floor of the living room, the table between them, holding half filled glasses of brandy and heavy secrets they both refused to share.

They had thrown back glass after glass.

'Ugh!' Est groaned inwardly.

Why had he done that? He pondered again.

Est knew he was a lightweight.

His brain was like cotton when it came to alcohol— it would absorb it quickly and knock him out before he would even notice.

He remembered the room spinning, the walls tilting at impossible angles. How his body suddenly felt like a heavy sack.

And then... nothing.

He had passed out.

A complete blackout.

But he had passed out on the couch. His brow furrowed.

Or had that just been his imagination?

No. It wasn't.

He remembered the soft thud when he dropped, the texture of the cushion pressed against his cheek.

He looked around the bedroom.

The blanket was still pulled up to his chest, and he was tucked in carefully beneath it.

How did he get here?

Did he walk up the stairs in his drunken state?

He shook his head, which made the pain spike again.

It seemed... unlikely.

He had gotten drunk alone many times before, had fallen asleep on that same couch too many times to count.

And each time, he'd woken up exactly where he fell asleep, in that exact same position.

He had never moved an inch, let alone climb up the stairs, walk past the crowded hallway, before tucking himself into bed.

It had to be William.

That was the only answer that made sense.

The thought that it was made Est's heart beat a little faster, like a frantic but fluttering rhythm.

But how had Will done it?

While William was big and built and had shown surprising strength in the past, Est was far from a small man.

And they had both been knocked out by the alcohol.

Est remembered that.

Had William half dragged him up the stairs?

Or had he carried him?

The idea of William carrying him with his strong, tattooed arm, all the way up the stairs sent a sudden thrill through Est— a sharp, hot feeling that made his skin tingle.

Est tried to push it away immediately, tried to deny, but the slight flush he felt crawl off him gave it away. Shaking his head, he sighed, exhausted, feeling a sense of shame wash over him.

He ran his hands over his body then, checking his clothes under the covers.

He was still in his night wear.

Everything looked normal.

Nothing was out of place.

But he was still worried, still overthinking. And the feeling didnt seem to be going away. It stayed in his head like a persistent itch he couldn't scratch.

If William had moved him, it meant Est had been completely unconscious.

Vulnerable.

What if he had said something stupid?

What if he had confessed something he shouldn't have?

What if he'd told William how much he hated him— or worse, how much he didn't?

He sat up then, adjusting his pajamas that had twisted in his movements and was now cutting into his skin.

He stopped moving when he noticed something else.

He wasn't in the middle of the bed.

He was on his side— the left side— the other half smoothed, untouched. Even in his drunken sleep, he hadn't spread out.

Muscle memory he guessed.

The memory of the game flashed again, still splitting his head the more he tried to remember clearly.

William had asked him this question last night— about his side of the bed last night.

Had William placed him there?

Or had Est dropped to that side of his on own accord.

Est thought he had.

And that thought made Est feel warm, another flush he didnt want creeping up his neck.

He decided to stop thinking about it this before his head exploded from the pressure.

He slid out of bed, his limbs feeling numb and uncoordinated. His legs hit the floor, and he felt the ground wobble beneath his feet.

He guessed the effects of the alcohol hadn't completely worn out yet.

He made his way to the bathroom, arms spread out to steady himself, before gripping the doorframe for support.

At the sink, he turned on the cold water and splashed it onto his face.

The cold felt like a shock to his system, a brutal but necessary wake-up call. It sent a relieving shiver through him.

He looked at himself in the mirror.

His eyes were red-rimmed with dark circles, as if he hadn't slept in days. He looked like a typical hungover person— pale, and somewhat pathetic.

Sighing deeply, he brushed his teeth, rinsed and wiped his face with a towel, before walking out of the room and into the hallway.

There he moved quietly, steps as light as a cat.

Then he stopped... and listened. For a sound from the other room— his room, the one he'd inadvertently given to William in his bloodied, passed out state.

There was nothing, just silence.

Maybe he was still asleep, Est told himself.

Maybe he was gone.

Delusional, his subconscious taunted.

He knew better than anyone William wasn't going anywhere. Not until he pleased. And if he were to leave, somehow, Esk knew he wouldn't leave without a word.

Est's hand reached out to place a knock on William's door. But then he stopped in mid-motion, deciding against it.

He didn't think he wanted to face him yet. Didn't think he was ready for the awkward 'morning after'.

He pulled back, and went downstairs instead, holding the railing tightly.

At the bottom, he turned towards the kitchen, and to his surprise, it wasn't empty.

William was there.

Est's breath caught instantly in his throat.

He wasn't in his hoodie from last night, no.

He was now wearing a black tank top that showed off the lean, cut muscles of his arms and shoulders. The dark top complemented the tattoo on the right side of his arm, made it look darker, like ink spilled on marble, intricate and intimidating.

He was stood behind the counter, busying his hands with something Est couldn't see.

He finally looked up after Est had stood there for longer than necessary, probably gawking at him. His eyes remained on Est for a while— studying, assessing— before they returned to whatever he was doing.

"Good morning..." William said in his usual bored tone. His voice was steady and deep, lacking the hoarseness that came with being hungover.

"Good morning." Est answered back... but it came out as a tiny squeak. He cleared his throat then, and tried again. "Good morning..." He said more clearly, moving toward a stool at the kitchen island. "What are you doing?"

"Making some ginger-lemon honey tea..." William answered. His eyes were still fixed on what he was doing, and his hands moved naturally, like this was something he did regularly. "It helps with hangovers."

"Okay..." Est said softly.

He watched the way William worked, the way his eyes focused. He looked... domestic. Yet somehow he still seemed... dangerous.

William must have noticed him staring... again. His eyes moved up, and he gave him a look. It was a strange expression, one Est couldn't read, but somehow, a hunch told him it was one of worry.

Est didn't want his hunch to be right.

William returned back to the tea, squeezing lemons into a bowl.

Est sat back and waited. He felt awkward just waiting there and he didn't know where to put his hands. But he managed.

William eventually finished and handed him a mug over the counter.

Est reached out slowly, hesitantly, his pulse spiking. He tried to make sure their fingers didn't touch... but it did anyways. And that brief contact of skin sent a jolt straight to his heart.

He pulled back quickly, feeling warm and a little shy. "Thanks..." He said, voice small, a little uneven.

William just nodded, his face indifferent.

An awkward silence fell over the kitchen then, thick with all the questions roaming his head.

Est couldn't stop thinking about that small touch. Couldn't stop thinking about last night— the possibility that William carried him and tucked him in bed.

He felt the heat in his body spread beyond his control. He couldn't sit there anymore. He had to leave before he said something stupid, something he would probably regret. He slid off the stool, mug pressed tightly in his hands as if it could shield him.

"I'm going to work on my book." Est lied. He didn't have the ability to form a proper sentence right now, let alone write a book.

He honestly didn't know why he lied.

It wasn't like he needed to explain himself to Will.

As far as he was concerned, William was still an unwanted guest in his house. He didn't need to be cordial with him.

And yet, he still couldn't bring himself to be anything but.

Sighing to himself, he settled behind his work desk and opened his laptop. He stared at the screen for a long moment, but the words looked like jargons on the page, meaningless and disorganized.

Est couldn't focus, not on this, not on anything. Not with William still watching him.

His body remained tense, and his breathing was slow and uneven.

He only allowed himself to finally relax when he heard William's going up the stairs. He watched from the corner of his eye as William went back up to his room with a mug in his hand.

When he was out of sight, Est finally allowed himself to breathe clearly. Then he took a careful sip of the sharp tasting tea.

The rest of the morning passed slowly, taut with tension Est couldn't understand.

He made breakfast, gave some to Will, who accepted it with his usual low Thanks.

Then, back downstairs, he moved around the house lightly, trying not to make any loud noise.

He didn't know why he was so nervous, didn't understand it.

But he was.

William stayed locked upstairs, eating, reading, pacing, meditating now that he wasn't allowed to physically exercise.

Est took a long shower to calm his nerves and wash the stink of alcohol off him. He then tried to watch a movie, but he couldn't take in any of the plot.

He looked at his phone, then at his work, then tried to do some light cleaning. Anything to distract himself.

But his mind kept drifting, wandering beyond his control.

And then found himself staring up at the ceiling. He knew exactly where William was upstairs. He could hear his heavy pacing in his room right above him.

'My Room...' Est corrected again. But this time it was weaker, almost resigned.

He had called the room his enough times for it to feel true now. But it didn't.

And while it still bothered him that he was getting used to William's overall presence, it was getting exhausting to keep denying it.

Especially after last night.

After last night, things suddenly felt... different.

He didn't know why, but the invisible shield he'd kept between them since his arrival had slowly dissolved.

Or maybe it was never there to begin with. It was just another cope he'd clung to to keep denying how he felt.

The simple truth was... he felt a strange pull toward William, like an invisible magnet drawing him in against his will.

But it was there.

He hated that it was.

But it was.

~~~

By evening, Est was back up in his room.

He was kneeling on the floor, refolding his laundry just to have something to do with his hands. He liked the repetitive motion... it was calming, kept his mind from places he'd rather they not be.

It worked for the most part. Kept him distracted.

But then, a knock sounded on the door.

Est stiffened instantly, snapping him right back into his earlier state of worry.

He stared at the wooden door for a long moment, unmoving, as if it were a dangerous animal that would pounce on him with any sudden movements.

His breathing tightened, and a lump settled in his throat.

He knew it was William. It couldn't be anyone else.

'What did he want?' Est pondered.

He honestly didn't want to move... or find out. He hesitated for a long minute, his heart thudding against his ribs for no reason.

William wasn't dangerous. At least not to him... not right now.

He knew that.

But still, he remained on the floor, for reasons he couldn't quite understand.

Or reasons he didnt want to accept.

Deciding there was no point drawing the inevitable out, he took a deep breath, and finally stood. Then he walked to the door and opened it.

William was standing there, leaning against the door frame.

He was wearing another pair of Est's old sweats, though they were a bit too big for him, almost swallowing him.

It made something flutter in his chest, almost made Est smile..

Almost.

"Hey..." William said quietly, breaking his thoughts, pulling him back to the present— his constant nervous state

"Hey..." Est replied, letting out a long, shaky breath.

William didn't speak, didn't move either, just stared at Est with a light in his eyes Est didn't understand.

It made Est self aware and maybe a little flustered.

His eyes lowered, staring at the space between them, trying not to think about what that look might mean, how it was making him feel.

They stood there for a long moment, in silence. It wasn't the kind of quiet that was awkward or stiff, it was the kind that was full of words they were both deliberately refusing to say.

Then. "I'm bored..." William said, breaking the long quiet.

Est didn't expect that. He'd expect something else entirely.

A confession. A confrontation.

Not something this... casual.

A little confused, he nodded slightly, not knowing of how else to react. "Okay..."

Another silence followed, though briefer.

Then Will said. "I'm taking a walk..."

It was a statement. But it felt like a question.

An invitation.

Still unsure what it was, Est exhaled softly. Nodding again, he repeated. "Okay..."

Another brief pause followed before William asked, voice firm. "Do you want to step out with me?"

It wasn't an order.

But that wasn't what baffled Est.

What baffled him was it sounded like a soft request. Almost hesitant, shy even.

Why was William being soft with him?

Why did it seem like he was trying to get close?

Est's hand tightened on the doorknob.

William was watching him with that unreadable, piercing gaze that always made him more nervous with each second.

His eyes were brown but deep, holding secrets Est wasn't sure he wanted to know.

Est knew he should say no.

Knew he should stay in his room and stay away from William until he was healed enough to leave.

But his mouth moved before his brain could stop it.

"Okay..." Est said softly.

~~~

The night sky was clear and full of stars.

They looked like tiny diamonds scattered on black vast expanse. The air outside was cool and crisp, a welcome relief from the tense atmosphere in the house.

William and Est walked down the sidewalk, side by side. Their steps were slow, measured, their hands buried in their pockets.

Est felt very small walking next to the him.

He was acutely aware of the space— or lack thereof— between them. His breath caught each time William's covered arms lightly brushed against his on the small sidewalk.

To distract himself, he scanned around the area and noticed his neighbors looking at them, probably out of curiousity.

The man across the street who was mowing his lawn, stopped briefly to stare, leaning on the handle of the machine.

The single mother who lived three houses down was standing on her porch, smoking a cigarette. She watched them with narrowed, studying eyes, the red ring of her smoke glowing faintly in the dark.

Est faced the side walk once more, digging his hand deeper in his pockets.

He knew why they were openly looking.

He usually took his walks alone, quiet and unassuming, the lonesome widower.

But now— now, he was with a new man. A strange man, one who looked like— well who looked like Will.

Cold and intimidating.

Est wondered what their thoughts were... wondered if they actually cared.

Some of the more friendly neighbors waved at him. Probably because they were already used to seeing him take this path so often.

He waved back politely, but his movements felt stiff.

He didn't really know these people, but he knew enough about neighborhood etiquette to know how not to come off as a stuck-up asshole.

Seemed like William didn't seem familiar with the term.

Est stole at glance at him, the way his jaw straightened beneath the hoodie pulled over his face, the way he kept that intense gaze on the road in front of him.

It was quiet between them as they walked slowly. Had been since they left the house. The only sound around was the cry of the crickets, and the low chatter of family discussing or the children running on their porches.

William looked completely at ease, walking with a slow, effortless stride as if he was in his own territory.

Est wondered how he could move so freely, considering he'd been ambushed and shot in his own home.

He wondered what type of life he'd lived for him to be so unaffected, so unafraid.

"You seem friendly with your neighbors." William said suddenly, breaking through Est's thoughts. His voice was flat and monotonous, as it always was.

Est blinked, slightly startled. Then. "Not really." He answered, trying to sound casual, though it came out more tired. "Just neighborhood etiquette, I guess..."

"Neighborhood etiquette?" William's gaze didn't shift from the walkway.

"Yeah... It is just like saying 'bless you' when someone sneezes. You just do it."

A brief pause followed, as if in thought. Then. "Hmmm. Okay..." William responded.

"Yeah." Est said, exhaling.

The silence returned.

They walked past a row of low picket fences and cracked pavements, the lawns beyond smelling like damp earth and blooming lilies.

William broke the quiet again. "You don't really talk a lot... do you?" He asked, voice still empty. He turned his head to look at Est, the streetlight catching the edge of his jaw.

Est turned to meet his stare, and suddenly, he felt a wave of heat rush to his face. He swallowed nervously and looked away, glad that it was dark enough for William not to see him color.

How do you answer a question like that?

He didn't know how to, at least not in a way that didn't sound pathetic. "I just— I just don't know what to say to you, I guess." He admitted, voice barely a whisper.

William raised an eyebrow, lips twitching slightly. "Are you afraid of me?" He asked then.  His voice still had no emotion in it. He didn't sound curious... or annoyed... or anything. He just sounded blank.

But the question hit Est hard anyway.

Because the truth was, yes, he was afraid of William. He wasn't just afraid though.

He was terrified.

He was terrified of what William had done, was terrified of what he could do. And he was terrified of what William was making him feel.

But he couldn't say that out loud.

He decided to brush the question off, turn it back to Will, find some solid ground to stand on. "Why do you talk like that?" Est asked, voice small, looking down at the pavement.

William's brow drew together, puzzled. "Like what?"

Est shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know... like that.... Like you don't really care about anything. It's as if you talk just to keep your mouth moving. Like there's no emotion behind the words."

William actually chuckled then, a low, soft sound that warmed Est's insides, made his heart stutter for a moment. "Hmm... no one's ever described it like that before."

"Do they even have the guts to?" Est asked, gaining a little courage.

William shook his head. "Other than Hong... no." He said. "No one does."

Hearing Hong's name, Est face instantly darkened, and the mood shifted.

He didn't know why he reacted the way he did, why he held had that much animosity towards him.

He mostly felt like a hypocrite if he was being honest with himself.

He was currently walking beside the man who had caused him so much pain, who had brought nothing but chaos to his life..,

And yet, Hong's name was the one he couldn't stand to hear.

But Est reminded himself... all of this had started with Hong.

Hong had lied to him, set him up when he had promised him safety and sanctuary from his pain. And that lie? It was a stab in the back that still wouldn't heal.

Est wasn't sure it ever would.

William noticed the sudden change in Est's demeanor.

He sighed, a rare expression of weariness, of anything really when it came to William. "My father..." He started, voice mirroring his expression. "He was... something." His face soured then, as if the words were bitter. "He used to say emotions were for women. His exact words were 'a real man isn't supposed to be anything that can be understood'. So he shaped me into one of those men. Cold. Unmoving. Impossible to break."

Gloom settled into the space between them.

Est moved quietly next to him, just taking in his words.

He could hear the rest in the words Willuam refused to say. He didn't need to know the details to know that William's father had been a cruel man, a man who had carved his son into a monster.

He wondered if that was why William killed him— the implied abuse.

But he didn't ask. Maybe because he knew William wouldn't share.

He looked at William then, and he felt a strange and unwelcome feeling ache in his chest. He ached for the little boy, felt sorry for version of William that might have been less cold and more kind.

"I never realized how unnatural it was to talk like that. Well, not until much later in high school..." William continued. "But honestly, I was too lazy to work on it."

"Too lazy...? Or you just didn't give a damn?" Est asked, smiling softly.

"I didn't give a damn." William deadpanned.

Est laughed at that. It was short, but it was genuine, and it cut through the shadow that had settled over them.

William looked at him then with soft eyes, and Est suddenly felt warm in a way that had nothing to do with his sweater.

And for a moment, they didn't feel like hostage and captor, or predator and prey.

Now, they were just two people, walking with comfort in each other's presence, under the starry nights.

And it felt... nice.

Est realized he liked feeling nice for a change.

He snuck another glance at William, and found his eyes on his. Heat warmed his cheeks then.

But Est didn't try to hide it this time.

Instead he let his gaze linger on Will's, hoping they didn't reveal to much. Just warmth and comfort.

But from the way William stared at him, it did.

Est pulled his gaze away, scratching behind his neck as the warmth settled in him— a nervous gesture.

But that feeling didn't last long.

Why?

Because up ahead, Est sighted a figure jogging toward them, with the same flexible rhythm he'd gotten used to.

His heart sank instantly.

When William had asked him for a walk, he'd only agreed to it because he thought it was late enough for him to dodge the one person he was hoping to avoid.

He'd been so certain he'd missed her.

He'd gotten lucky the last few times...

But it seemed like his luck had finally run out.

Bonnie's steps slowed down as she approached, finally stopping as she reached them.

She was wearing bright pink running gear that practically glowed in the dark. Her hair was pulled up in a messy bun that made her look chic and edgy and her face was shiny with sweat. She was breathing hard, her chest heaving, lips parted to pull in air, even when she smiled, making her look awkward.

"Hey, Est!" She said as she stopped in front of them, hands falling on her hips.

"Hey, Bonnie..." Est said awkwardly, returning her smile with a fake one plastered on his lips before he stared at the pavement. He wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole. 

He wanted to be anywhere else but here right now.

Bonnie was a new neighbor who lived a few houses down his. She had moved in a few weeks ago and crashed into him on one of his lonely walks. Literally.

And ever since, she always tried to talk to him, or pull him into long conversations he had no interest in or ask questions that made him uncomfortable.

It was like she had the inability to take a hint... or read the room.

Just like right now, as she stared at him, and then at William, who was looking at her as if she was a peculiar creature.

She scanned him openly, her eyes taking in his height and his overall appearance with complete disinterest. "Hello." She said to him only out of politeness. Her voice was not even mildly curious.

"Hello.." William responded blankly as always, though there was a glint in his eyes which Est recognized. He looked like he found this situation funny, which somehow only made Est more nervous.

Bonnie turned back to Est, her eyes dancing now, very delighted. "I haven't seen you in a few days! I wanted to stop by and check on you, but I didn't want to be rude or intrude. You know how it is." She rambled on. "So where you been?"

Est looked at William then.

He wondered what he could say... wondered how William would react if he openly lied.

He guessed William would probably laugh in his face right then and give him away.

Est decided to keep his mouth shut, feeling somewhat paralyzed.

Bonnie's bright smile faltered for a second at his silence, but then she kept going, her energy limitless. "Anyways, uhm..." She swallowed a ball in her throat. "It's my birthday in a few days. I am having a small get together over at mines... Just a few friends, nothing crazy. I was wondering if you'd like to come?" She smiled again, hopeful.

Est hesitated, looking over at William as if he could give him an out with this one. William only gave him a slightly amused look. Sighing, he tuned to her. "Sure..." He answered, though it was hesitant. "I'll come."

Bonnie beamed then. "Great!" She said in a too happy tone, pulling out her phone. "Can I get your number then? I'll send you the deets and my address."

Est nodded slowly, and then he took her phone with an unwilling hand and tapped in his number.

He could feel William's eyes on him, watching him, silently judging him.

He ignored it.

Handing Bonnie back her phone, he slipped his hands in his pocket once again, hoping it was goodbye.

But Bonnie turned to William then, as if waiting for him to say something. Maybe she was waiting for his name, for an introduction at least.

William said nothing. He just stood there, now staring at her as if she an unnecessary block in his path.

Est knew it was only a matter of time before his patience wore thin and he asked her to move. "This is Bill..." Est said sharply, the first name that popped into his head.

William eyed him from the side.

"Oh okay. It's nice to meet you, Bill!" Bonnie said, completely unfazed by William's cold exterior.

Est thought it was a comedic contrast now that he thought of it.

Bonnie was sunshine in her pink running gear and her beaming smile. Bill— Will, he corrected-— was just ice in his borrowed sweats.

It somehow made the whole awkward situation funny to him. But he didn't laugh, just rolled back and forth awkwardly on the balls of his heels.

"Okay. I should head home now... i'll text you."

"Okay." Est answered.

"Okay... Bye Est, bye Bill." She waved at them both— not a slight wave, but a full arm wave, before brushing past Will's sides and jogging again. Behind them, she slowed to give William a slightly confused, look before running again, the darkness eventually swallowing her figure.

They started moving again in silence.

They walked a considerable amount before William broke it. "Bill?" He asked, his tone and expression unreadable.

"I wasn't sure you wanted people knowing your real name..." Est shrugged, a little defensive. "Bill is... safe."

"You're right. I wouldn't." William muttered, adjusting his hoodie, pulling the hood back. Then after another silence, he added. "She likes you."

That stunned Est.

Est stopped walking and stared at William with wide eyes. "What—? No, she doesn't." He blurted out. "She just wants a friend... She's still new in town and was just being neighborly."

William didn't answer.

He just kept walking, quickening his pace.

"Wait— what do you mean?" Est called out, catching up to him. "Why do you say that?"

William didn't say another word.

He kept moving forward with cold, faster pace that Est struggled to match.

The rest of the walk was quiet and uncomfortable, the previous warmth and ease completely gone.

Later that evening, Est sat on the couch, watching a movie he couldn't bring himself care about.

He was thinking about why William had suddenly become so cold to him.

Was it because of the name?

Or was it Bonnie? He wondered.

What did he mean by she liked him?

Right at that moment, as if sensing his thoughts, his phone buzzed. He picked it up.

It was a text from an unknown number.

Bonnie he guessed

He clicked it.

Bonnie: Hey Est! It's Bonnie👋. Just making sure this is the right number!

Est: Hey. Yeah, it's me.

Bonnie: Great!😆😆I'm really looking forward to dinner.It'll be nice to have you there!

Est: Happy birthday again♥︎🎉. Dw I'll be there.

Bonnie: Thank you💃💃

Then the bubble appeared and disappeared for a moment. Est flipped the phone to his lap when it beeped again.

Bonnie: What are you up to right now?

His fingers tapped automatically.

Est: Just watching a movie. You?

Bonnie: Just relaxing. Look!😆[image.]

She sent a picture.

It was a photo of her holding a book.

Est recognized the cover immediately. It was one of his books— his second novel, a historical romance thriller.

Bonnie: I looked up your Facebook and found out you were a writer.I just started this. It's soooooo good😩. I love it so much!!!!

Est felt a rush of pride swell within him.

He'd felt lost these past months. Lonely in his artistry. But hearing people talk about his work, the worlds he'd crafted, with his mind... the little people in them— it made him feel... seen.

Made that dark void a little less lonely.

Est: I'm glad you like it. Thank you. It means a lot.

Bonnie: I'm going to bed now. Big day at work tomorrow. Good night, Est♥︎♥︎

Est: Goodnight, Bonnie♥︎

He set his phone down on the cushion and smiled.

Talking to Bonnie had been— nice, surprisingly.

He felt a little lighter, a little more like himself.

Maybe it wouldn't so bad to make a new friend.

~~~

Hong.

Hong arrived at the station very early the next morning.

The air in the police station was the same,  dry and dusty with smell of old reports piled up, and a little dewy with the early morning mist clinging to the air outside.

Nut wasn't here yet, thank God.

Things had been awkward between them since 'their talk' the day before.

They had both driven back to the office in silence and left seperately— not a word said between them.

Hong preferred it that way.

Sure maybe he had stupidly fallen for the man... but that wouldn't make him easy to bend.

In the end, he had to get his way.

The cold shoulder would be the first step.

He drew his seat forward and started organizing his papers, but as always, his mind was far from this lie he called a job.

It was on fucking Nut, as always.

His pens scribbled fast, deep almost tearing the paper as his mind kept working, wondering how he was going to get Nut off this case.

For good this time.

Lego walked in then, looking.... terrible.

That was the only word Hong could use to describe it.

His eyes were bloodshot, and his hair was a tangled mess. He looked beat down which told Hong it had been a long night for him.

"Hey Lego..." Hong said, looking up at him. "What you been up to? You look like shit."

"Good morning too you too, asshole." Lego sat down at his desk and sighed deeply, rubbing his face. "Had a longggggg shift. Chased after some drug rat at the club and some other teenager OD-ed last night."

"Hm." Hong didn't think too much of it.

He'd seen so many teens die of drug use it was almost as common as catching a cold now. He'd grown numb to news like this.

"It was a mess, Hong." Lego continued. "The mom's schizophrenic. She's thinks it's some ghost or something supernatural haunting them. She was screaming about witches and shadows."

That piqued Hong's interest.

He raised a brow, and asked. "How are you sure it was drugs?"

Lego gave him a sarcastic look. "Oh what? You believe in witches now?"

Hong shrugged. "Spill."

Lego sagged in his seat, sighing. "We found a tiny seal bag in the kid's room. Fentanyl. He was blue when they found him in the corridor. Poor kid."

Hong blinked then.

That didn't sound right.

He leaned closer, voice dropping low, serious now. "I thought you said the Naga Manor got gunned down? Are they still in business?"

They weren't supposed to be.

William had put a halt to all their activities and ordered them to the farm house. The rest has been ordered to lay low.

This could be a smaller, rogue sect though. If that was the case, Hong had to let Will know to flush them out, before they ruined his plans.

"They did..." Lego said, looking around to make sure no one was listening. "As far as I know, the drug supply got cut. But maybe a smaller group is selling off the books... like the leftover stash.... Or maybe this is another group entirely."

"Another drug den? Here in Bangkok?" Hong asked, brows raised.

Lego wiggled his brows.

Hong processed all of it quickly.

If this was true, it meant war.

William was already preparing for a fight for vengeance. A fight to reclaim his territory would only make things worse, lead to more violence.

Things would spiral out of control.

Well maybe not...

Not exactly.

Not if he could stop it himself.

A plan started to form in Hong's mind.

He needed to be on this case.

"Which group do you think it is?" Hong asked.

"My best bet? The Yakuza..." Lego whispered. "They've been sniffing around the central districts for months."

Hong didn't let his excitement show. He leaned back in his seat. "Hmmm. Interesting."

"Yeah, if it is, things are going to get bloody."

Hong only nodded.

"Well... anyways, that ain't my headache..." Lego said. He stood then, cracking his back with a loud groan. "I'm clocking out. Got a hot date later. I need to go wax my legs... and other areas...."

Hong gave him a disgusted look. "I did not need to know that, fuck you very much." He said, rolling his eyes.

Lego flipped him the bird with a grin and walked away.

Hong waited until he was gone.

The Chief wasn't in yet.

He pulled out his phone and dialed the Chief's number, his fingers moving fast.

"What, Hong?!" Chief Sapangs gruff voice barked over the phone. "Do you know what fucking time it is? This better be important."

"There is a new drug case..." Hong said without any formality. "Another teenager OD-ed today. Fentanyl. I want me and Nut on the case."

"Now why the fuck would you want that?" The Chief's voice was lower, clipped.

Hong understood the Chief's worry. He was also under William's payroll.

Bad business for William meant bad business for him.

"It's not us, Chief." Hong said simply.

~~~

When Nut arrived a few hours later, he looked... exhausted. He never looked exhausted. Not even when he'd been running on five cups of coffee and a few hours of sleep.

Hong wasn't sure, but he hoped he was the reason. Hoped his dramatic display was having the desired effect.

Nut walked to his desk and gave Hong a long look, then a small, almost pleading nod.

Or that was how it looked in Hong's eyes.

Hong ignored him.

Nut exhaled loudly. "So you're really not going to talk to me?" Nut asked, leaning in close to Hong's desk, voice hushed but filled with growing frustration.

Hong looked up, giving him a cold expression. "Are you going to keep playing hero?"

Before Nut could answer, Chief Sapang's door swung open. "Hong! Nut! Get in here."

Nut gave him a look, one that asserted they weren't done speaking yet.

It sent a sudden rush through Hong. He wanted to squeal like a school girl and call him daddy.

But he restrained himself.

Not because they were in public. But because he remembered he was still supposed to be 'mad' at him.

They both stood and walked into the office.

Inside, the Chief looked stressed. His tie was loosened and the top button of his shirt was undone— a contrast from his usual put-together nature.

He threw a folder onto the desk. It landed with a loud slap on the table. "Last night, another child OD-ed..." The Chief said. "Seventeen years old. Fentanyl..."

Nut picked up the folder, skimming through it quickly.

Chokun Puttipong Jitbut.

Attached was a picture and other personal details.

Nut's heart sank as he read.

Another promising soul, stolen by the rot of the underworld.

Hong watched him, worry lacing his features.

The chief went on. "Because of everything that happened with the last case— the fallout from the shoot out, too many officers dead— we have to keep this quiet. No backups, no big scenes. Just you two. Find the dealer. You can start with the parents."

Nut steeled his jaw. "Yes sir."

Hong only nodded.

They both left the office after that.

~~~

The drive to the victim's house was uncomfortable.

The silence in the car felt like a wall between them, thick and impenetrable.

Nut's fingers tightened on the steering with each passing second they didn't speak. He wanted to talk, wanted to fix things. But Hong kept staring out of the window, at the passing city, ignoring his presence as if he were a ghost to him.

They soon arrived at the small, neat house, located in a middle-class suburban neighborhood.

It was sealed off with yellow taped and still had a few forensic officers loitering around.

Inside, the boy's father was sitting at the kitchen table.

He looked like he had aged ten years in one night. His eyes were red and wet and his hands were shaking.

They both stood across from him, looking down at him with sympathetic eyes.

"Good afternoon sir. I'm detective Nut. This is my partner Hong." He motioned to him.

Hong nodded, looking at the grieving father.

"Khun Jitbut." The man said weakly, clearly still in shock and disbelief.

This was the part Hong hated the most.

The ways this always felt like a confrontation disguised as an interview.

But protocol was protocol.

And he had a secret he had to protect.

"I'm sorry for your loss, sir." Nut said gently, taking the seat from across from the man.

"Thank you... I apologize for my wife's absense... she had to be taken to the hospital..." Khun Jitbut said, voice was weak, broken. "She has schizophrenia, you see. She couldn't handle— this. They had to sedate her."

"We understand, Sir. No need to explain yourself. We're just here to ask you a few questions.." Hong said, voice sympathetic.

Khun Jitbut nodded weakly, still shaking.

"Did you know Chokun was using?" Hong asked.

"No—" Khun Jitbut broke then, sobbing softly, his hands lifting to cover his face. "He was a good kid. My boy— he played football. Had good grades, even got a scholarship. He had his whole life ahead of him. I don't know why he would do this..." His words trembled out of him.

They allowed him a break, just enough to let some of the grief out.

He soon wiped his face, sighing loudly. "I'm sorry."

"No— Sir... Take all the time you need." Nut said, offering him some pocket tissues.

Hong noticed, his heart twisting at the sight. Of course Nut would have pocket tissues to offer a grieving parent. He was too good for this world.

Too good for him, he admitted.

But somehow, it only made Hong want him more.

Khun Jitbut took some with shaking unsteady fingers. "Thank you..." He wiped his face, then his nose. "You said... you found drugs in his system?"

"We found fentanyl, Sir." Nut said, his voice soft.

Khun Jitbut let out a pained sound, his face twisting.

Nut asked softer, hesistant. "Do you know where he could have gotten it? Any friends that seemed like trouble?"

The man shook his head quickly. "No... my boy was popular. But he kept few friends. Ashton and Mick. They're good kids."

"No one else Sir? Nothing suspicious you noticed?"

The man shook his head rapidly. "No— None." He broke again.

"Okay, Sir. Thank you for your time." Nut stood then, giving him a sympathetic look. "We're going to take a look at his room if you don't mind."

The man weakly waved them away, pressing his fists under his chin to keep his head up, as his breaths shuddered out. That hand was probably the only thing keeping his weakened body upright.

Hong gave him a last sorry look, before going up the stairs with Nut. 

Upstairs, the room was as Hong expected any teenager's to be.

It was filled up with trophies, posters and video games stacked up like books. It looked like a normal teenager's room, one that had been full of promise and potential.

Chokun had been found in the hallway, just outside his parents door. He had probably been trying to get to them for help when his heart stopped.

Nut picked up a framed photo of the boy.

He was wearing his jersey, a playful grin on his face.

Nut's face darkened then, twisting with anger.

There was nothing he hated more than seeing young lives wasted.

He dropped the frame back and took a look around. "He had everything going for him..." He noted, voice full of repressed fury. "Another innocent life ruined just for some lowlife to make a quick buck."

Hong wished he felt some semblance remorse at Nut's words, his disgust. But too many years in this world had sharpened his edges and dulled down his conscience.

At the end of the day, young or old, people turned to narcotics of their own free Will.

If they didnt get it from him, they would get it from some other low-life.

Either ways, the world still spun.

People died, people did bad things and people like Nut cleaned them off the streets.

It was purposeful.

It was.. Nature.

But as Hong watched Nut, he realized that Nut's moods were starting to affect him more than he liked.

He felt a wave of sadness too.

Not guilt per say, no. But a rare moment of empathy.

Being good like this— feeling a heavy load over other people's misery— that was Nut's nature.

It was one of the things he loved about him.

"You played football, right?" Hong asked, eyes soft, trying to break the heaviness in the room.

Nut looked up, surprised by the personal question. "Yeah... how did you know?"

Hong shrugged. "Lucky guess."

It wasn't.

It had been in his file.

Nut laughed softly. "Yeah, a long time ago. And I was good, too. Almost went pro."

Hong's brow raised, as he dropped softly on the bed. "Why didn't you?"

Nut shrugged, humming softly in his throat. "Wasn't my calling... I saved a man's life once."

"Really?" Hong asked, clearly intrigued.

"Yeah..." Nut nodded, lightly perched over the table. "The mayor of my town. It was at some parade we hold every year. Caught a glint of the gun and I didn't hesitate." Nut grinned crookedly, clearly proud of the memory. "Tackled that asshole to the ground like he was paper. It was like..." He struggled for words.

"Instinct." Hong completed, breath stolen at the small joy in his tone.

"Yeah... instinct." Nut chuckled brightly. "I was the town's hero for months. Had my face in the morning papers. Got a medal and the key to city... my parents were so proud." His eyes shone with the memory.

"I knew I couldn't be anything else after that. Decided I would join the academy and never looked back after that."

"That sounds wonderful, Nut." Hong said softly.

Nut looked at him, still smiling. "Yeah... it was."

A brief quiet settled again, that previous tension slowly edging it's way back in. Nut didn't want to let that happen. So he broke it first. "What— what were you like in school?" He asked, moving closer to where Hong sat on the bed.

He dropped in next to him.

Hong pretended his closeness didn't affect. He pressed his lips into a thin line, humming in thought. "I was... an outcast." He said then with a forced, self-deprecating laugh. "I mostly just lurked in the corners, minding my business, wishing I could get a bus ride out of town. One that would take me somewhere that wasn't home."

Nut's face fell slowly.

He understood what Hong meant, knew about his broken family life.

"I was fine mostly. Had a girlfriend for a while. She was the leader of the arts and crafts club."

Nut looked stunned by that. "A girlfriend...? Really?" He sounded disbelieving.

Hong gave him a look, then rolled his eyes. "I like boys... and girls." He said plainly. "Why do you look so surprised?"

Nut laughed then, sending a low rumble through him. "No... don't get me wrong. It's not that. It's just—" He paused, weighing his words carefully. "You just don't seem like the relationship type."

Hong laughed then, a rare, genuine sound shaking his body forward.

Then he looked back at Nut, eyes locked on his, softer, a little daring. "With the right person... I could be anything, Nut." He said softly.

The air between them changed. It was still soft, but charged, a little breath taking. It was subtle, thick, a mix of both with the implication of Hong's words.

Nut felt his heart race unevenly in his chest, felt acutely aware of the fact that if Hong kept looking at him like that, he would lean forward and do something he shouldn't.

He forced his gaze away, cleared his throat and stared blankly at walls in front of him, his ears turning red. "We should go..." Nut said, his voice slightly higher.

Hong gazed at his profile a little longer, before nodding slightly.

They both stood, and left the house without another word, but the tension between them still lingered.

They visited the friend next— Ashton.

The boy was still grief stricken and absolutely terrified, sitting on his sofa with his parents by his sides, shielding him like bodyguards.

"We aren't here to get you in trouble, Ashton..." Hong promised, voice calm. "We just want to know if you know anything about where Chokun got the drugs from."

Ashton's fingers tightened on the hem of his shirt, his face twisted in obvious discomfort.

His mother squeezed his hand gently.

Astom looked up at her, before staring at the officers. Staring down at his feet, he said, voice shaky, filled with guilt. "There was a party a few weeks ago. A senior named Luke was there. He's the school bad boy, and he's very popular."

"Okay..." Hong said patiently.

Aston hesitated, looking at his parents again. Then. "Luke— he-he offered us some pills. Said they would help us relax."

"This Luke?" Nut asked then. "Did Chokun hang out with him often?"

"No. But they were texting..." Ashton said. "If he got them from anyone, it has to Luke. He's been hanging out near the gym lately."

Nut exhaled softly.

They had a name, so that was progress.

They thanked the family and left.

The visit to Mick was not so welcoming.

The boy could not stop crying long enough to talk. He was devastated.

His parents glared daggers at Nut and Hong, as if they were the bad guys.

Mick pretty much told them what Aston already did.

By the end of the day, they went back to the office to file the report.

When Hong stood up to leave, Nut did the same and followed him out. "I'll drive you home..." Nut said at the door.

"No need... booking a ride." Was Hong's casual response. He started towards the parking lot.

But Nut caught up and grabbed Hong's bag strap, pulling him to a stop. "Hong— wait."

Hong stopped midstep.

Nut rolled his fist tight around the strap, tugging slightly, a silent question.

Hong gave him a pointed, displeased look. But that didnt phase Nut.

Seeing Nut's insistence, he let out a long sigh of defeat, and lossened his arm so Nut could slide the bag off him.

They both walked to the patrol car and Hong slid into the passenger's sit.

The drive was quiet at first... until it wasn't.

Nut wouldn't let it be. "Why are you pushing me away? We're partners. We cant work like this." He said, fingers tight on the wheel, occasionally glancing at Hong, then back at the road.

Hong remained silent for a long moment, watching the streetlights flicker past him.

"Hong..." Nut pressed. "Talk to me."

Hong couldn't stand how soft his tone was. How it seemed to break down all his restraints. So he gave in. "I'm just trying to protect myself Nut." He said, soft but curt.

"Protect yourself from what? From me?" Nut's expression was bewildered, maybe a little hurt.

"No, Nut. Protect myself from this!!! I care about you Nut. But you're reckless."

Silence fell then. Hong's voice had been sharper than intended, and he knew he was a liar.

He knew he was gaslighting Nut right now, knew he was betraying him.

But he was desperate enough to want to protect himself and still keep Nut safe.

Even if it was for his own selfish reasons.

That wasn't wrong.

He would never believe it was.

"I'm trying to detach myself from you..." He continued. "My last partner— he was just like you. He was a good cop and he was TOO-FUCKING-PASSIONATE. He never cared about his well-being and he didn't know when to stop. He was fucking reckless!!! And he got killed for it."

Hong thought about Sea as he spoke.

He had warned him not to mess with William, warned him of the danger.

Now, he was buried somewhere deep in the desert, his body never found.

And now the world had forgotten him— his integrity, his passion.

Hong didn't really care about him.

Asshole felt like he was better than everybody else.

Maybe he truly was.

But his mistake was feeling untouchable.

Hong gave him a warning and let him decide his fate.

But he couldn't just give Nut a warning.

He didn't want Nut to die.

He could never let that happen.

Just the thought nearly ripped him open, made him emotional.

What the fuck was wrong with him? How had this hapened? So fast?

Hong clutched the pendant on his neck tight, pressing it against his heart lay as if to ground him, swallowing back dry tears.

Nut just stared at him, dumbfounded, feeling a surge of guilt well in him.

He didn't know what to say... or what to do to make Hong feel better.

So he said nothing...

And did nothing for the rest of the way.

Hong kept staring at the window, a lump settling in his throat, hot tears burning behind his eyes.

Fuck!!!

He was a goner. He was in love the man next to him.

His enemy.

Their Enemy.

William was going to fucking kill him.

When they arrived at Hong's place, Hong grabbed his bag and rushed out without a word.

Nut sat in his car, breaths unsteady, feeling helpless. He watched him go inside, the light in the hallway turning on.

He remained in the drive way until they flicked off.

As he pulled out, he wondered how he'd gotten stuck like this, feeling the intense urge to just give in to Hong's demands.

He honestly didn't know what to do.

All he knew was he couldn't get Hong out of his head.

~~

Est.

Est pulled into the driveway and stopped the car, the loud rumble dying out. He had gone to the store to get some groceries he honestly didn't need, trying to settle back into a sense of normalcy.

He got out of the car and moved towards the trunk. At that very moment, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out an looked down at it.

It was a text from Bonnie.

She had sent him a picture of a giant box of donuts at her office.

Est smiled warmly and sent her a gif and a yum face.

They'd been like this for days now.

And honestly, Est couldn't pretend he wasn't enjoying himself. He was enjoying it alot.

It felt good to be able to have a normal conversation like this, one outside of threats and violence.

As he opened the trunk of his car, the front door of the house opened.

William walked out, the door clicking softly shut behind him. Before Est could grab a bag, William brushed past him and was pulling them into his hold. "Hey." He said, eyes on the bag.

"Hey..." Est replied, somewhat startled.

Est reached for the other bag, but William was faster, grabbing it in seconds. He scoopef the heavy grocery bags with one hand, his muscles rippling, exposed by the tank top he was wearing.

"Hey— I can get that." Est said, remembering the wound on William's side. "You're injured, you should be resting."

William just ignored him.

He picked up the nylon bag with his free hand, lifting them as if they weighed nothing, his expression blank as always.

Est's studied him for him, wondering why he was being insistent and stubborn.

Then his phone beeped again, distracting him.

It was a picture of Bonnie eating a donut, making a goofy expression with chocolate all over her face.

Est laughed out loud then, the sound warm and bright.

William stopped for a sec, looked at Est, then at the glowing screen of the phone.

His face darkened instantly, the air around him becoming cold, and filled with a strange energy Est couldn't explain.

Something about him seemed off.

Est looked at him and cocked a brow in question.

William stared at Est, then the phone, then back at Est. Without another word, he turned and walked into the house.

Est stood there, slightly confused.

What was up with his attitude?

Was he... jealous? Est wondered.

That didn't make sense.

To be jealous, you had to like someone.

And Est knew that was far from the case.

Scratching his head, still perplexed, Est followed him inside the house.

He closed the door behind him and sent a text back to Bonnie, teasing her about her messy eating.

She replied with a funny greedy gif that made him laugh again.

He'd realized over the last few days he really liked talking to her.

She was easy to talk to, and she actually made him laugh... alot.

He wondered why he'd been so awkward and avoidant with her at first.

She had this carefree, unbothered aura about her. She was smart, articulate and had a lot of interests Est found interesting. And the best part was, she never demanded anything from him. She never forced conversations out of him, or ask for details he didn't want to share.

He'd forgotten what it was like to have a friend like this, one who wasn't involved in his trauma or there to help him forget.

She made him feel... normal.

In a good, platonic way.In the kitchen, William stood stiffly, putting the groceries aside, staring at Est with a glare hot enough to burn a hole through him.

Est looked up at him.

What was his problem?

He didn't think he'd ever seen William this expressive before.

Est ignored him.

He wasn't going to let William ruin his good mood. He started to towards the stairs, feeling lighter than he had in weeks, the heavy gloom of the house finally lifting.

Then, a loud knock came at the front door.

It wasn't a friendly, neighborly knock. This was hard and fast, urgent, as if demanding entry.

Est looked at William, brows raised.

"I'm not expecting anyone..." William answered, his frown never shifting as he put away a box of pancake mix.

Est felt a worry run through him.

He hoped it wasn't his mom— or Nut.

He walked to the door with careful steps and peeked through the peephole. And his breath caught instantly.

"Fuck."

_________________________________

Hi guys.

How are you?

Long time no see.i know y'all are probably bored and annoyed with my inconsistent and late updates. I'm sorry🥲i will try to be better😔 please be patient w me🙏❤️

This was supposed to be a double update, but I got really lazy🫠. So I decided to post this so y'all can bully me into finishing it before Saturday(please do... I need it)😆

Idk if the timeline in the story makes any sense, considering it switches from perspective to perspective. It does in my head but i'm too lazy to go back and add up the dates. If it doesn't, please pretend it does🙏

Hope you liked this one. Please bully me into finishing my drafts. Thank you. Bye❤️