Define Love||KhaoFirst

13- Attached to him?

The motorcycle roared down the empty roads, its engine growling beneath First as the wind whipped past his face. Rose, his latest thrill, clung tightly to him, her laughter ringing out as they sped through the streets like they owned them. Her fingers traced his chest through his leather jacket, but his mind wasn't on her-wasn't on this moment at all.

Khao.

Damn it.

It was always Khao.

He'd been gone for months, living his picture-perfect life in that prestigious university halfway across the world. The images haunted First's phone, the pictures of Khao in pristine white shirts, surrounded by people who had no idea what kind of person he really was. Smiling, laughing, leading some extraordinary life, so far removed from the nights of control and command back home.

Khao's new world seemed perfect. Clean. Untouchable. He belonged to a world of fine things now. A far cry from the suffocating walls where First had once been reduced to nothing but a servant, bruised by power games masked as orders. And yet, here he was, still chained to him, still thinking about him.

Every time he saw a notification pop up from Khao-brief, calculated, as if checking in on a pet-his heart would race. He hated how much he waited for those moments. As if each passing day only widened the distance between them, but somehow kept First more tied to him. The longing wasn't simple. It was tainted, toxic, something he couldn't shake no matter how much he tried to fill the emptiness with wild nights and reckless stunts.

The truth was, no matter how hard he tried to pretend otherwise, he missed Khao. Missed the quiet presence behind every cruel word, the twisted affection buried in those degrading commands. And in the rare, fleeting moments when Khao let down his guard, when First could glimpse something like tenderness-it was intoxicating.

He couldn't forget it. Didn't want to, even.

"Where are you tonight?" Rose purred in his ear as the bike slowed to a stop. She had no idea. He didn't even answer her. She was just a distraction, something to kill time, to fill the silence while Khao lived out his grand, perfect life, far from this mess.

Yet, part of him knew Khao never truly left. His shadow still lingered in the corners of the house they'd both shared-his voice still rang in First's head during the quiet moments, taunting him, pulling him back in.

Some nights, First would lie awake, staring at the ceiling, his chest tight, wondering what it would be like when Khao returned. Would he still hold the same power? Or would Khao come back different, softer, changed by the world that embraced him, leaving First further behind in the filth he secretly thrived in?

But there were no answers in the emptiness. Just the hum of the motorcycle beneath him, the empty road stretching out in front, and Rose's meaningless words in his ear.

Khao was living a life of prestige and promise. First was still here attending a University close by, left to his own vices, rebellious, destructive, filling the void in all the wrong ways.

But deep down, they both knew: the strings were still attached. And when Khao returned, First would still be right where he'd always been. Waiting.