In Lines Of Love ~ Kimchay

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~ LET'S NOT BE STRANGERS ANYMORE ~

Kim’s phone vibrated violently on the table, pulling him from his thoughts.

The unknown number glared back at him, an unsettling feeling creeping up his spine. He hesitated for a second before answering.

"Hello?" His voice was tight showing no emotions until.

“This is the police station. We need you to come down here immediately—

For Porchay Kittisawasd.”

The blood drained from Kim’s face. Porchay. Without asking for any unnecessary details, he bolted up, grabbing his jacket in a blur.

His hands trembled as he jammed the keys into the ignition, his heart pounding like a war drum against his ribs. Prince of No Feelings was panicking.

Porchay’s face kept flashing in his mind—what had happened to him? Was he hurt? The road blurred past him as he sped through the streets, but it felt like time was moving slower than ever.

In that frantic span of time, Kim had broken at least seven road rules. Speed limits, red lights, lanes—It felt all foggy.

As if none of it mattered, as if he didn’t care about his own life, or what the reckless speed might cost him.

The engine roared beneath him, the car tearing through the streets like a man possessed.

His only focus was Porchay, the desperate need to reach him, to make sure he was safe.

Theerapanyakul man were indeed one of a kind.

By the time he reached the station, his chest was tight, breathing heavy and uneven. He didn’t pause, didn’t think.

Kim pushed through the doors, eyes frantically scanning the room, and then his gaze locked on him.

Porchay.

He was huddled in a corner of the waiting area, his small frame shaking, eyes glistening with small pearls and those tears streaming down his cheeks while he sniffles the nose.

His hands were clenched into fists, knuckles white from the grip he had on his knees. His eyes were swollen, his face flushed and blotchy. He looked so ashen yet like a pale moon glow but weak and small. 

The moment their eyes met, Porchay’s sobs broke free, louder, uncontrolled, as if his last thread of strength had snapped.

Kim’s breath hitched painfully in his throat.

"Porchay!" He sprinted toward him, his legs moving before his mind could process anything else.

In an instant, he dropped to his knees beside Porchay, wrapping his arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace.

Porchay collapsed into him, burying his face into Kim’s chest, his sobs shaking both of their bodies.

His arms immediately went around Kim’s neck, holding on as if he were the only thing keeping him grounded.

"Phi…" Porchay choked between sobs, his voice was small and broken, "I w..as so scar—ed…"

Kim squeezed him tighter, his heart shattering with every word. "I’m here, Chay, I’m here," he whispered in trembling sound.

He kissed the top of Porchay’s head, his lips lingering there for a moment, feeling the weight of his helplessness. "I won’t let anything happen to you, I promise."

From behind, a throat cleared, breaking the moment. Kim looked up, meeting the eyes of the police officer standing just a few feet away.

"Mister, I suppose you're the Kim" The man in his late thirties asked. Kim nodded.