In Lines Of Love ~ Kimchay

45. Happy fucking valentines ( pt8 )

"Ohm, we're getting late!" Porchay yelled, already standing at the front gate of his house, anxiously waiting for P'Anon to pick them up.

Ohm rushed down the stairs with a piece of toast hanging from his mouth, his mother trailing behind him, handing him his bag.

Porchay scoffed, shaking his head—Ohm had whined about waking up early, and now he was paying the price.

Just then, a car pulled up in front of them. Without a second thought, Porchay opened the backseat door, ready to wai at Anon—except Anon wasn’t there.

Instead, his eyes widened as he his heart beat rise.

"You Long?" Porchay muttered, confusion evident in his voice.

"Porchay, good morning." You Long's voice was smooth, his smile reflected in the rearview mirror.

Porchay swallowed hard and gave a small nod. "G-Good morning."

"Ai Chay, move aside! Let me in—we're already late!" Ohm whined, trying to squeeze past him.

"Oh no, Ohm, this isn’t my car—" Porchay tried to pull him back, panic creeping into his tone.

But before he could do anything, You Long’s sharp gaze flickered toward him.

"Porchay. Sit."

The command sent a shiver down his spine. His body moved before his mind could protest—he just sat.

"Your name, Ohm buddy?" You Long asked, his voice deceptively sweet.

Ohm, still chewing his toast, hesitated for a second before quickly swallowing.

He nodded, pressing his hands together in a polite wai.

The ride was silent. Tension hung in the air, thick and heavy.

Ohm, sensing something was off, glanced at Porchay and reached for his hand, his fingers gently brushing over the band-aid wrapped around it. Worry flickered in his eyes.

Meanwhile, Porchay sat still, thoughts bubbling chaotically in his head, each one more unsettling than the last.

Porchay's fingers twitched under Ohm’s touch, but he remained silent, his eyes fixed on the road ahead.

His mind raced. Why was You Long here? Where was P’Anon? And most importantly—How the fuck did he knew Ohm’s address?

"You’re awfully quiet, Porchay." His breath hitched as You Long’s voice sliced through the silence.

The older man's tone was light, almost playful, but there was something unreadable in his gaze reflected in the mirror.

Porchay forced himself to speak. "I—I was just surprised to see you, Khun You Long."

"You make it sound like a bad thing." The man chuckled, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. "Relax. I’m just giving you a ride."

Porchay didn’t relax.

Ohm, still oblivious to the weight in the air, shifted in his seat. "Uh… thank you for the ride, P’." He offered awkwardly, still holding onto Porchay’s hand, as if grounding him.

You Long’s gaze flickered toward Ohm’s gesture. His lips curled slightly. "Of course. Anything for Porchay."

Porchay’s stomach churned.

The rest of the ride stretched on in tense silence, the weight of unspoken words suffocating him.

When the car finally rolled to a stop in front of the university, Ohm wasted no time getting out—but just as Porchay moved to follow, You Long’s voice stopped him cold.