Scent

Plan C revisited

Arthit was living what he considered the best period of all his work life.

It'd been a whole week since the beginning of the milk apparition. Luckily, the first day's plain milk had been replaced by Pink Milk. Stock of fresh, delicious and sweet Pink Milk.
The day before he had even received a whopping of five glasses. For a normal human being that would be too much to drink in a row. But Arthit was no ordinary human being. So, he drank them. And then felt sick. But it had been worthwhile. 

But now everything had changed.

Arthit stared skeptically at the salmon salad waiting for him on his desk.

What happened to his Pink Milk?

"Good morning, P'Arthit"

"Morning." Replied the senior, not looking up, but continuing the search for his daily supply of sugar. He searched carefully everywhere, behind the computer, under the salad and even in Bonus' fishbowl, but he didn't find anything.  

Maybe the stall had run out of the beverage and P'Earth had thought of replacing it... with a salad.
A disappointed pout appeared in his face and he looked at her sideways, but the woman didn't even cast him a single glance. 
They had the kind of relationship where they kept buying pink milk for each other, but this?

Weird. 

But not as weird as Kongpob's friends behavior change; from persecuting and cornering him, they were now ignoring him. Or rather, as soon as they saw him, they ran away in the opposite direction. Or, if it was too late to escape, they lowered their heads and greeted him. And then ran away.
Well, what could he expect from Kongpob's friends?
The same Kongpob who hadn't looked him in the eye for more than thirty seconds all week. And even those few seconds were odd, because the younger kept blinking spasmodically at him. Just like he was doing now.

"Kongpob, may I know what's got into you lately?"

"Oh, nothing." He said smiling, while continuing to blink his eyes.

Arthit put a hand on his forehead, but he didn't seem to be hotter than usual.
In the past few days, he had checked on the junior several times. The last thing he needed was for the younger to catch a fever under his watch.
When he realized that he wouldn't get any useful answers from him, he returned to his seat. Maybe the wolf was just being his weird self.

"What's wrong with him?" P'Earth asked him as he sat down at his desk.

"I don't know"

"Perhaps he felt the pressure of the new job...?"

"Mmh"

He opened the desk drawer, then closed it immediately.

"Ok, that's enough!" The fair-skinned man stood up angrily and stared at his colleagues -P'John-  "Who did it?"

"Arthit?" P'Earth called him confused.

"I can accept you rifling through my personal things -even if, what kind of freak arrange other people's desks?- but who is the one rifling in my drawer of sweets?"

There was a moment of shocked silence, then P'John -or as everyone called him P' the infamous John- burst out laughing pointing at him.

"He has a drawer of sweets!"

Arthit felt the lynx inside him snap ready to hurt him, but luckily P'Earth stopped him in time.
"Luckily".

-

It had been a disaster.

Kongpob didn't think someone would really like living in chaos. He thought Arthit'd be happy to work in a neat and perfectly organized space. Or that he would appreciate the added treats. Even if they were wheat products with less sugar... and even if he had hidden Arthit's unhealthy ones, which was practically all of them.
Maybe that was the reason why he was angry.
But Kongpob couldn't keep giving him food sugar-filled; he didn't want to see him get sick again, and especially not because of him.
So, given his mate's evident incapacity to eat healthy food, the wolf had decided to take responsibility for his senior's health into his own hands.
That's why that dat he brought him a salad. A salmon salad. The book said he would love it. And Kongpob trusted the book. Since he had started to follow the tips suggested in there, Arthit had begun to spend most of his work time with him, and a couple of times he'd even stroked his hair off his forehead.