Darling, Be More (Kinn x Porsche) [Kinn x Porsche]

Part 1: The Proposal

"You have to go along with it, Kinn. You have no choice."

Where had he heard those words before? Oh, that's right, his father had told him in the same overbearing, haughty fashion when he had decided to not take up the family business and, make a name for himself outside of the dirty connections that came affiliated with the name 'Theerapanyakul'. It was a similar connotation and conviction that left little to no room for argument. Kinn was aghast in the worst way possible. It was as if destiny said 'Let's fuck up Kinn's life even more today by playing a practical joke on him for shits and giggles' and it basically told him to just shut up, bend over and take what it threw at him.

That irritated him further. Even fate was mocking him!

He rolled his tongue into his cheek. Hands curled into the papers so tightly, that he swore anyone would think his pale fingers had blended into the white sheets in his ire, Kinn was truly still reeling. It was worse than those nightmares of walking into one's boss' office naked. That probably would've worked out better than this moment. He was in utter disbelief.

Actually, that's a lie. He was accustomed to this dismissive treatment since he had joined the company as a personal assistant, wanting to be the complete opposite of how he'd grown up under his father's thumb. However, this was an entirely different situation. It was definitely warranting a comeback of some sort as his breath was coming in short spurts, veiled contempt evident across his features, especially his furrowed bushy brows. Kinn's eyes stared unwavering to the man seated behind the desk in front of him, one who continued to sort through his papers, being all business as usual. How cold. As if he hadn't just dropped a bomb of an announcement, without consulting Kinn, nor considering his feelings in the whole thing, his boss carried on with an arrogant air of nonchalance.

Porsche actually said that he and Kinn were going to pose as an engaged couple, get a marriage license, and then divorce after three months. That was how long their contact from America was going to be staying in Thailand for an extended project. A contact that had apparently proposed the same question to Porsche, in an effort to unify their companies in an antiquated way, that apparently was still used through the ages and accepted by the rest of the board of directors in the room: marriage. The man, in turn, blurted out that he was already taken and was going to get married to his assistant in a couple of days. They were just low key about their relationship to avoid scandal. Of course, the American called their bluff until Kinn came into the room, was given visual signals from Porsche to agree, which Kinn did, and now the two of them were debriefing in Porsche's office.

Aka Kinn. Aka the stooge that was just a casualty in a blue blood war. There was no reason or logic behind this request, other than that it was Porsche's will, so it had to be blindly obeyed.

Kinn's mouth opened. His mouth closed. His mouth opened again in a mimic of a sea bass who was attempting to gather oxygen with the gaping look. He unconsciously let out a sound of disapproval at the beginning of a comment, only to watch as sharp golden irises honed into his own with an indifferent demeanor.

"You're free to go back to work now, Kinn. We have a contract deadline with that new writer to wrap up, schedule a meeting with him in a couple of days. Check my schedule." Porsche scribbled on a notepad, "You need to plan a trip to Paris or someplace to finalize the marriage license. I'll let you decide, aren't I so nice? Find someone to take some engagement photos or he will never believe it. I'll leave all the details to you."

And just like that, Porsche went back to whatever he had been reading on his desk, ignoring Kinn's mental spiral down the rabbit hole as the words that had spilled out of those luscious lips were stabbing into Kinn's very soul. He knew the moment his alarm hadn't gone off on time that morning that it was going to snowball into a shit show that he wasn't sure how to deflect. Kinn took pride in normally being able to push aside anything that bothered him, years of practice helped to define those walls that he'd sculpted around his heart, except now they were being chipped at.