16.

It ended in a way I never could have imagined, the absolute worst possible scenario.

Fuzzy images of a toilet, the cold bathroom floor, and a heavy hand on my back – it's all seared into my memory, leaving me mortified and unable to face anyone.

"I told you you'd get ridiculously drunk," Anwar said, smiling as he handed me a tissue.

After the kiss, I tried to escape the embarrassment and awkwardness by asking Anwar to make me new cocktails. They were so sweet I didn't think they'd get me drunk, even though Anwar warned me just like last month. I didn't mind getting drunk; I'd braced myself for a wild night. Blacking out was fine.

But throwing up… I never considered that.
I don't know whether throwing up while still conscious is worse than throwing up and blacking out. Maybe the initial state was better, but now I have to deal with the other person's reaction, specifically his reaction right now.

"I don't want to drink anymore. I'm not drinking anything else," I blurted out, the thought flashing through me as I was violently ill, before gulping down a whole glass of water.

"Didn't you just say you weren't drinking anymore?" He raised an eyebrow, arms crossed, staring at the now-empty cocktail glass.

"I was just rinsing my mouth, and it tasted good."

"Drink this." And with that, the tall figure turned to pour me a glass of water. "You can have a drink every day, but try not to get like this again, okay?"

"I don't want to drink every day," I countered.

Despite my words, Anwar's skeptical expression was clear. Lately, I'd been drinking more frequently – at Rome's place, at parties.

Besides the excuse of it tasting good (which is true), I admit to myself that everything feels easier when I drink. Conversations with Anwar flow more smoothly. The awkwardness of many things diminishes, and it makes me feel more comfortable. Anwar remains a charismatic person, still exuding a strong presence, but I feel less pressured when we're drinking together.

Maybe that's why I enjoy drinking in front of Anwar.

I rested my face on my arm on the bar, then looked up at Anwar, confessing, "I think when I drink, I dare to do more things… a lot of things I wouldn't do when I'm sober."

"You mean just things related to your ex-boyfriend, or does that include the kiss?" Anwar asked casually, leaning his elbows on the bar less than two hand-spans from me.

"Everything. Um… yes, that includes it."

"You're already brave enough, with or without alcohol. If that's why you drink," Anwar said seriously, pushing the bottle of alcohol away from me. "From now on, try not to drink just to get closer to someone, including me."

"Okay," I nodded, though I don't think I'm as brave as he says. "But if I want to drink, just because I want to…"

"Then drink. I'm not going to stop you. I just don't like doing things with a drunk person."

"Wasn't it good?"

"It wasn't good… or something like that."

"Was my kiss not good?" At my question, Anwar raised an eyebrow, a laugh escaping almost instantly.

He pulled me into a loose embrace, resting his forehead on my shoulder, rubbing gently. "I don't even know if it was good or bad. Someone threw up first. I guess we'll have to find out tomorrow."

I remained silent. It was good that we weren't looking at each other, so I didn't have to hide my smile and blushing face. Those words were embarrassing. I don't even need to guess how red my face is right now. It's like a tacit agreement. I wonder if I'll be able even to look him in the eyes tomorrow.

"You're brave enough," he said. Maybe that comforting sentence wasn't entirely true.
"I'm sorry, and thank you so much for being with me," I pulled away. "For taking care of me."

"It's okay. You must be tired. Why don't you go rest?"

"Okay."

Anwar nodded, clearing the glasses and putting them in the sink before walking me to the stairs.

"Thank you again," I said sincerely, one last time, meeting Anwar's steady gaze. I don't know what he was thinking when he looked at me like that, or even when he lightly touched my hair like this.

"You did great," a casual compliment, not specifying much, was released. A warm hand touched my cheek, slowly moving down to my shoulder before he pulled me into another hug.

Maybe it was the semi-comforting compliment, maybe it was the gentle touch I received. My previously withered, dry heart swelled almost to bursting. It felt like a forest embracing the warmth from the other person until he released me.

"What are you good at? Kissing?" Anwar responded to the joke with a soft chuckle.
"That," His words trailed off, replaced by warm lips pressing against my neck.

"Don't do it when you're drunk. Sleep and sober up," he murmured against my skin, his warm breath causing my mind to go blank. I was only aware of his presence and my rapidly beating heart. "Then come knock on my door."

..

..

This was the first time I'd been here alone. The brown building stood before me, just a few steps away. I fumbled for the key in my pocket, the one Gia had given me.

I don't know how it happened, but last night Gia came here and got so drunk she
accidentally took Chen's phone home, thinking it was hers. He woke up looking for his phone for a long time. It was only after Rome called Gia that they found out where it was.

"He needs his phone today, but I’m picking up a friend from the airport. Rome has exams too, so please, pleeease!"

It was the same old pleading joke, and it always worked. This time was no different.
Well, I didn't have anything else to do anyway, except go to class and then go back to hide in my room.

I climbed the stairs, making way for someone pushing open the door and heading down. I'd never added him on any social media, but Gia must have texted him to say I was bringing his phone. Therefore, knocking on the door instead of using the key would be better.

"Blue?" Chen greeted me in Thai as soon as he opened the door, making way for me to
enter.

"I brought your phone.:

"My phone? Oh," His eyes widened, a look of relief washing over his face. "Hey, thanks a lot! I thought it was gone."

"Someone got drunk and took it," I chuckled softly. "You look really relieved."

"I had work on it that wasn’t backed up. I almost died! Blue, you’re a lifesaver!" He took the phone from me.

Chen had a laid-back, somewhat unapproachable look, unlike Anwar. While both could be described with similar phrasing, their vibes were drastically different. Anwar possessed a captivating charm that drew people in, yet no one truly knew what he was thinking or feeling.
Chen was simpler. He perfectly embodied the Thai kid abroad stereotype, favoring simple clothing: t-shirts or short-sleeved shirts over jeans and sneakers. Despite the simplicity, he looked good; like he knew exactly what styles suited his physique. Right now, he was wearing a simple white crew-neck t-shirt, a dark green shirt with the sleeves casually rolled up instead of a jacket, and simple black jeans with a rip at the knee.

People who dress well and are tall are seriously enviable. Anything looks good on them.

His unapproachability stems from his calm demeanor. Anwar smiles, laughs, and becomes the center of attention without much effort. Chen, on the other hand, seems content to sit quietly and listen. He doesn’t talk much and doesn’t display much in the way of facial expressions, unless something interesting makes him sit up and listen attentively, or a joke is exceptionally funny, causing him to laugh.

I haven’t spent enough time with Chen to definitively say what kind of person he is, but from what I’ve seen, he’s consistently like this.

"It’s okay… Alice and Cole aren’t here?"

"No, actually, only Rome and I are staying in this room. The others just visit often, but they’re staying elsewhere. Not far from here."

"Oh," Right. This room isn’t as big as my place. And it’s just one room, basically divided into two bedrooms.

"Want something to drink? Someone brought some things over." I nodded, leading the way to the sofa while Chen turned back to the small kitchenette area. "We have Coke, beer,

cocoa, milk, and water."

"Cocoa, please."

I glanced around the room while I waited. It was a little messier than my place. There were game cases stacked haphazardly around the large television. They really liked playing games together. I liked them too, but I never offered to join in when I came here.

"Thank you."

"I should be the one who thanks you." He handed me a glass of iced cocoa and sat down opposite me. "This wasn’t just a quick stop, right?"

"Well… it was, but it’s okay. No one else is doing the cleanup after the small class."

"And are you feeling better?" The bluntness of the question startled me. Chen really knew something was wrong that night. Who in their right mind would stand around in the rain like that, spaced out?

"Considerably better." I gave him a wide smile to confirm. Chen looked like he wanted to ask more, but ultimately he nodded and fell silent.

"Blue, have you eaten anything?"

"I had a sandwich before class, but it wasn’t much. I can grab something on my way back." I thought about the time and the approaching mealtime, offering a dry smile.

"Or would you like to try my cooking?" The sentence drew my attention, as he offered a small smile and pushed himself up from the sofa. "Missing Thai food, are you? I was just about to cook."

"What are you making?" At first, I wasn’t really thinking about it, but once he mentioned it, I suddenly found myself craving it.

"What do you want, Blue? I can make anything."

"Are you a chef?" I teased. His appearance didn’t exactly scream culinary expert. Even his roommate, Rome, seemed like the type to just boil instant ramen when hungry. You can't judge a book by its cover; I've been wrong about many people.

"Almost. My mother owns a Thai restaurant here," he said, smiling and rolling up his sleeves a few more inches. "So, as a thank you, what should we make?"

"Right now, I’d be happy with just a simple omelet. But basil chicken (Pad Krapao) sounds good?"

"Pad Krapao it is."

Even though I only requested that, Chen ended up making Pad Krapao with pork, a
sunny-side-up egg, and some fish-sauce fried chicken wings, explaining that the wings were almost past their prime and he wanted to clear them out of the fridge. Whatever his reason, I was happy to eat it all.

So that's how it is with him.

"Chen, your Pad Krapao tastes just like my mom’s," I complimented, indirectly. I only recently found out that Chen was used as a kitchen assistant at his mother's restaurant, becoming one of the cooks. Even though he's lazy and often skips work and isn't serious about it, he's still...

"So your mother’s cooking must be delicious."

Seeing him speak so softly, despite his still expression, made me blurt out, "Yeah, it’s really delicious!"

"Stop by and become a regular customer at the restaurant, or you can come here. Just don’t bring Alice with you."

"Alice eats a lot?" I raised an eyebrow. She seemed like a slender Thai woman.

"She eats a LOT. And how about you, Blue? Do you eat a lot?" Chen glanced down at my mostly empty bowl, which had been devoured surprisingly quickly. A faint smile appeared at the corner of his mouth. "It seems all the small people I meet are big eaters."

"Should we blame the chef for making such delicious food?" I pretended to frown.
He broke into a wide grin.

"How many more dishes do you want? Just tell me."

I laughed. Chen is my first real Thai friend since I’ve been here. A friend I can hang out with for hours, not just someone I know casually or someone I see briefly at a hangout.

I hadn't realized it until now, but eating delicious Thai food and chatting in Thai with someone made me feel better than I ever expected.

It's amazing…

Because of Anwar, Simon (my language teacher), and Gia, I was kept busy. And because Chen spent hours with me.

All of that made the two days since breaking up with P'Phim less depressing than I had feared.

I’m trying my best not to let myself sink back into sadness, not to starve myself, not to lock myself in my room to mourn, or to contact P'Phim. I can’t say I’ve completely moved on and accepted it, but at least where I am right now, both emotionally and physically…

I’m in the best place I can be.

By the time I got home, it was late evening. The intermittent rain on the way made me run, leaving me breathless. Even though I was hurrying and the raindrops weren't heavy, I was still soaked. Jasper and Audrey were playing a phone game on the sofa, as usual. I quickly ran to my room to shower, intending to join them to kill some time in the evening.

Sometimes, being with a group lets you order delicious food – it feels much better than eating bread alone in silence.

When I came downstairs, Audrey was gone. In her place was a tall man lounging on the
sofa, reading a small book. "Where's Audrey?" As Anwar looked up, my face flushed, forcing me to look away and walk
towards the bar instead.

"She left. She has a part-time job."

"Oh..." I nodded, my gaze involuntarily meeting Anwar's. I didn’t mean to; if these feelings were easier to control, it would be better.

The kiss on my neck and the whispers – everything was too vivid, like the drinks last night didn't erase anything. I still remember everything clearly, so vividly that I almost wanted to bury my face in a pillow when I woke up this morning.

Anwar lowered his book, his eyes narrowing slightly before he stood up to his full height.

"Blue," but that single, short call made my heart sink to my stomach. I looked up at the tall figure, stopping at my bedroom door. "When you're done, come check something."

Without waiting for a reply, Anwar went into the room, leaving me awkwardly standing there with Jasper, who looked up with a curious expression. Perhaps it's because of the Thai language we’re using. I poured myself a glass of water. A feeling of unease washed over me. The way he phrased that before going into his room, no matter how you look at it, it was a rather clumsy invitation.

I froze, my gaze shifting between the door and Jasper, who was sprawled on the sofa.

My phone buzzed softly.

Blue, I want to talk. the message read.

"I want to talk...?" I repeated the phrase to myself. No smile appeared on my face. No
happiness, no sadness, just a hollow feeling, and anger.

I hadn't blocked P'Phim's number; I'd only deleted all our past conversations. That's why he could still message me.

At a time when we could have talked, even fixed things, he never tried. He chose to ignore me and repeat the same mistakes over and over. But now, just as I’ve accepted moving on, he says he wants to talk. It’s like a bad joke, but I can’t even manage a sarcastic smile. I never thought I could get angry so easily.

I stared at the screen as it slowly went black, then put my phone back in my pocket, without replying. I didn't intend to reply. My eyes glanced up to see Jasper suddenly standing.

"I'm going out for a while. I might not be back tonight."

"Okay."

I waited until Jasper disappeared downstairs, then quickly walked to the white bedroom door and knocked softly. It didn't require much decision-making to get myself here. After a few seconds, the door swung open.

Our eyes met.

And stayed there.

I knew exactly what situation I was in and what I was doing.

Anwar slowly backed up until he reached the bed, his gaze still locked on mine. His face remained impassive, but I could feel the intensity in his eyes, crystal clear.
It was intense, serious... undeniable. Like being pushed by an invisible hand into a vast, unseen pit. I felt the danger but couldn't seem to pull myself back up.

Should I embrace it?

The desire, ignited deep beneath the stoic facade I was presenting.

How could the anger I felt earlier melt away? I couldn't see any other way to release it than with the man in front of me.

If the bad feelings from P'Phim were a terrible illness, then Anwar was a strong painkiller, a way to numb the pain. It didn't cure it, it didn't make me stronger.

But in the end, I still craved it.

"Come here," he murmured softly, settling half-sitting, half-lying on the large bed, glancing up at me. "Instead of standing there biting your lip, why don't you come bite mine?"

A teasing sentence, accompanied by a small smile at the corner of his mouth. Anwar's
charm and allure dissolved all the thoughts in my head, leaving only a blank space.
I started walking forward, my heart pounding so hard it felt like it might leap out of my chest.

I didn't need clarity right now.

But... just enough to make him forget the pain for now.

...

...

Anwar's pov:

"Instead of standing there biting your lip, why don't you come bite mine?"

When I said that, I didn't actually think Blue would be bold enough to follow through. I
expected more embarrassment and him staying rooted to the spot.

But him taking that step towards me… it was quite a pleasing sight.

I extended a hand, letting Blue grab it before pulling the smaller person towards me until he was straddling my waist. His soft legs were pressed against my stomach as he placed a hand on my chest. The distance between our faces steadily decreased. I didn’t rush him, letting Blue approach at his own pace.

Not only did he not look embarrassed, he looked incredibly determined.

"Can I kiss you?" The soft question tugged a smile to the corner of my lips—I knew exactly who he was imitating.

"That’s why we’re here."

Without another word, I ran a hand through his soft hair, gazing down at him. I absorbed every expression on his face. Blue pursed his lips, his eyes darting down as if he was weighing his options, before gently pressing his lips to mine a moment later.

I never lied when I said he was adorable.

Whether he was timid, shy and unable to meet my gaze, or acting all bold like this… it’s not that I’ve never encountered this type of person before, but usually I wouldn’t lower myself to play along because people who act so inconsistently… compared to someone like Kit or Ashley, I’d never know where I stood with him.

Strangely, I didn't feel that way about Blue. He made me want to be close, to explore the expressions he unconsciously made, even if it wasn't all the time. And now, in this position…

it's even better.

A light kiss pressed against my lips, creating an exciting thrill in a split second before I took the lead. My tongue intertwined with his, and he responded perfectly, as if we'd kissed a hundred times before.

Quick-witted.

He wasn't a skilled kisser from the beginning. I still remember that clumsy touch vividly. Even now, Blue isn't the best kisser I've ever met, but something about this kiss made me want to stay here a little longer.

"Is it good?" Blue rested his forehead against my shoulder, hiding his face as he whispered, "Better than when I was drunk?"

I smiled inwardly, seeing his reddened earlobe through the mirror nearby. The outline of his back beneath his white t-shirt tempted me to reach out and touch it.
"I'm not sure yet."

Blue lifted his head to meet my gaze. His narrow eyes tried to peer deep into mine as I smiled back, leaning my forehead against his. "Can we try again?"

Without waiting for an answer, I pulled myself up to a sitting position, loosely wrapping my arms around his small waist before pressing my lips to his, slowly entwining our tongues. I savored every soft touch.

There was no need to rush. I had all the time in the world, and Blue was calmly sitting on my bed. I'd waited since last night. In the end, it was worth the effort to be patient.

Blue seemed intent on winning—I couldn't tell if he was just enjoying himself or genuinely seeking my praise. His slender hand pressed my shoulder back down onto the soft surface before he leaned down himself.

Soft kissing sounds punctuated the silence, along with the sounds of saliva and the thudding of our hearts.

My hand drifted lower, stopping at his hip beneath his pants. My mother had called this morning to ask about Blue. Just the question, "How is he? Are you taking good care of him?" made me flustered. I gave a hasty reply and quickly hung up.

Taking good care of him? I treat Blue the same way I treat anyone I'm involved with—maybe even better in some situations.
And is what we're doing now considered taking care of him? If his mother knew how I "take care" of Blue, I'd be getting a major scolding. He's only been here a few weeks, and she’s already calling and texting like we’re family.

"Mmm," a muffled groan brought me back to the moment. Blue moved his hand lower, towards my stomach. He seemed hesitant, reluctant to place his hand there, so I asked, “Do you want to touch it?"

When he remained silent, I raised an eyebrow slightly, extending one hand towards him, remaining still until Blue finally placed his hand there, before I guided it to my stomach.

Blue's eyes widened slightly, his face and already-reddened ears turning even redder.

Damn... all those gym visits and exhausting runs, even on lazy days, were worth it.

I concealed a smile behind a stoic expression. The thrill of teasing him and observing his reaction was overwhelming. I pressed my hand against his lower abdomen, then returned it to his shirt.
As our skin touched, my own heart skipped a beat, forcing me to suppress it. A thrill coursed through me, fueled by his red face and stiff posture.

Blue shifted slightly, his pink tongue licking his lips. He surprised me again by starting to move his own hand, his fingers tracing upwards until his dark shirt rode higher. His beautiful eyes lowered, surveying my chest. But only for a moment; then his warm fingertips began to stroke my chest.
"Before you knocked, did you prepare yourself?" I asked, voicing my curiosity. Blue seemed bolder than before, at least when it came to touching me.

Instead of answering, his soft lips pressed against mine, gently nibbling before his tongue explored, mimicking the kisses I'd given him. He ended with a deliberate bite to my lower lip.

This is it.

I wasn't worried about my mother's scolding in the slightest, not when it meant experiencing all this.

"I know what I want to do," he whispered, his ear burning as I tucked a strand of his hair behind his ear.

"No turning back tonight," I murmured with a smile, tracing my finger down his cheek, to his chin, making his beautiful face lift slightly. I explored his features, from the hollow of his throat to his fox-like jawline. Was it those eyes that made his face so captivating?

"And if I suddenly want to stop?" That wouldn't be a problem.

It wouldn't have been, if he hadn't slowly licked my fingertip. My heart pounded, my breath hitched, as I watched his teeth gently bite it.

I can't handle this.

Until now, I've never been a naive person when it comes to intimacy. I’ve met those who were far more experienced. But this... this almost innocent, sudden display of boldness from him… it's completely overwhelming.

I took a deep breath, feeling intensely aware of myself, of his soft behind pressed against me.

That expression, that look in his eyes, those words... He kissed me deeply in that room. If he suddenly said he wanted to stop now, it would be incredibly cruel.

Blue smirked, nibbling on my fingertip repeatedly before letting go, revealing a tiny strand of saliva.

"Did you think I'd let you get away that easily?" I playfully deepened my voice, sounding menacing. I felt Blue's hand begin to move lower, returning to my firm stomach.

"Last night, you were the one who ran away from me."

Does his mother knows he's like this?
I reflexively smacked his round bottom hard, a playful swat that made him flinch. That sassy mouth is a good thing. His kissing skills have improved. He’s captivating in looks and words.

Even if my mother yelled at me to stop, I wouldn't listen now.

One day, he'll be incredibly skilled at everything, especially the things he's so enthusiastically learning right now.

I guarantee it.