KongArt Week

2. Arthit's Aftermath

Day 2 Prompt: "Why am I in your bed?"

Arthit always loved the cool breeze he got whenever he waltzed into his office, remembering the chill down his spine, feeling every cold sensation the wind brought him. But in this situation, he did not like the cool breeze, as he was close to freezing to death. Hypothermia, even.

He didn't know how much of an idiot he is that he went to work today, with no umbrella in his bag, and decided it was such a good night to work overtime. Sauntering to his set like he had no problem in the world aside from the fact that his heart was always going haywire whenever he goes back to their apartment.

His officemates, Som-O and Earth tried to persuade him to join them on their ride home but his overly confident and stubborn self denied their offer and was so convinced that the weather that will be brought upon his area is like a ray of sunshine in the night. How he so effortlessly tossed aside his basic sanity and continued to work on their new product launch, after he has generously accepted the engineering department's plea for help, despite that he was already designated for the purchasing department.

Arthit never minded the additional pay he would get after this, but the backlash was ridiculous.

As he gracefully made his way down the building, seeing the dim lights of the lobby and the only person left was the security guard by the entrance who wai-ed him as a greeting, he then took proper notice of the heavy pour outside his building.

It was very convenient that it was late at night and there were no available taxis or any way of public transportation home, just great.

'Raining cats and dogs' has always been a bizarre idiom for him, but it was no brainer why it was put that way, as the amount of rain generated from the pour was actually the metaphorical severity of the situation.

As the idiot used his bag to cover himself and try to walk towards the rest stop a block away from his office, he internally cursed at himself for being so neglectful of the things around him. Of course, his leather bag would not do even the bare minimum of keeping his shirt dry, as, by the time he arrived at the stop and finally got some shelter, he was already drenched.

No one could help him now. How was he supposed to get home?

Oh.

Again, sending another muttered curse to himself and to all the heavenly beings who got him in this situation, he dialed the one person who was the reason why he needed to be distracted from work today. Taking the phone out of his thankfully, dry pocket, he quickly opened it.

"Hello?"

"Kongpob, I need your help."

"What's wrong, P'Arthit? What happened? Are you okay? It's pouring outside. Why are you not home?"

"Slow down," as if he was also telling his heart, "Can you pick me up with an umbrella? I forgot to bring it today and I can't go home without freezing to death. I know it's like five blocks away but I can wait. If you don't want to–"

"Wait there, I'm on my way, P."

Then, the line ended. Arthit stared at the phone and tightly gripped it in his hand, closing his eyes and breathing heavily. Fuck, I'm so in love with him.

For the umpteenth time, he was an idiot for being so.

After about 30 minutes of lounging around the stop and sitting idly on the small, damp bench, he heard pattering footsteps approaching. Standing up and grabbing his bag, he saw Kongpob walking towards him carrying a closed umbrella in one hand and holding an opened one in the other, clad in his Adidas shorts with his matching shirt, which was slightly wet on the collar.