Autumn is a second spring

115. Clear up

Ohm stared across the breakfast table, the steam from his cup curling up lazily, barely reaching his notice as he watched Prem chew through his toast like he had nothing to worry about in the world.

There was something about Prem's demeanor—maybe the casual way he smeared extra butter onto his second slice of toast, or the way he leaned comfortably back in the chair like he owned the space—that irked Ohm.

Fluke had told him that Prem had recently broken up with his boyfriend. That Prem was having a hard time coping. Which was fine, Ohm understood heartbreak—but what he didn't understand was how Fluke had practically turned into Prem's full-time caregiver overnight. He cooked separate meals for Prem, stayed up checking his fever, and sat by his side like a nurse. Ohm couldn't help but feel something sour crawling under his skin.

And now Prem was sitting here, all casual and smug, acting like he was on a vacation instead of fresh out of a breakup.

"You don't look like someone who just got dumped," Ohm muttered, his tone just light enough to sound like teasing but loaded enough to poke.

Prem glanced up mid-chew, eyes narrowing slightly as he tried to swallow the food quickly. "That's because I didn't get dumped," he replied, shrugging nonchalantly. "Just cheated on."

Ohm raised a brow. "Doesn't seem like you are very sad about it."

Prem's spoon clinked a little too hard on his bowl. Though he managed a smile, there was a distinct edge to his voice. "Because I am not. I saw it coming. Can't be sad about something you already expected." He paused, then added with a pointed look, "Anyway, better than getting dumped for no reason like someone else here. Right?"

Ohm blinked, the sting in the words not lost on him. That was a direct hit.

From the kitchen, Fluke's voice floated in, almost too perfectly timed. "Prem, finish your breakfast and go lie down after. You still need to take your meds."

Prem turned his head, watching Fluke, who was busy crouching down beside Oatmeal's feeding station. Fluke had placed down a bowl of meticulously prepared food and water, cooing softly as the golden retriever eagerly dug in.

Prem wrinkled his nose and turned back to his food.

Ohm smirked, clearly enjoying the moment. "You say he dumped me without a reason," he said, eyeing Prem. "But he still loves me. He still takes care of me. That's what matters."

The words made Fluke pause momentarily, but he didn't react beyond blinking. He walked over to the table, wiping his hands with a towel.

"What makes you think I love you?" he asked Ohm with a tone so even it could have been mistaken for sarcasm.

Ohm didn't answer. He only gave a playful grin, clearly enjoying the upper hand and leaned in and kissed Fluke's cheek.

Prem rolled his eyes dramatically at the open display of affection.

"Where is my ice cream?" Prem suddenly asked.

Fluke frowned. "There is no ice cream."

"Liar," Prem said, voice tinged with mock betrayal. "I saw you making some earlier."

"That wasn't for you," Fluke said simply, turning to place the empty water jug back on the kitchen counter. "It's for Oatmeal. It's been too hot lately. Yesterday's rain didn't cool things down much, and furballs like him suffer in the heat."

Prem scoffed. "Even the dog gets gourmet treats in this house. Meanwhile, I am getting told off for wanting a scoop of vanilla."

"You have still got a low-grade fever, Prem. You can't have ice cream."

"I am not twelve, Fluke. You don't have to treat me like a baby."

Fluke didn't reply. He just picked up the dog's leash and turned to Ohm. "P' Ohm, I think I might have overfed him. Can you take him for another walk?"

Ohm stared at Fluke, then at Oatmeal who was currently wagging his tail like he had just won the lottery. "I already walked him this morning."

Fluke shrugged. "Another short round won't hurt. It will help with digestion."

Ohm didn't miss the not-so-subtle undertone. He glanced at Prem, whose lips were already curling into a victorious smirk.

"Fine," Ohm muttered, grabbing the leash. Oatmeal barked in delight, padding over immediately. With a sigh, Ohm left the room, muttering something about needing coffee after the walk.

The front door clicked shut behind him.

Fluke moved to take Ohm's vacated seat, his posture unusually stiff. Prem watched him carefully.

"So... are you two back together again?" Prem asked, casually stirring his now-cold coffee.

"No," Fluke replied immediately, not looking at him. "I actually wanted to talk to you about something else."

"If this is about me picking a fight with P' Ohm earlier, I was not at fault. He was the one who started—"

"It's not," Fluke cut in firmly. "I know he provoked you first. It's about something else, alright?"

Prem blinked, a little surprised at Fluke's bluntness.

Fluke then raised his voice slightly. "Come in."

The door to the hallway opened and a man in his mid-twenties stepped inside. His appearance was neat, composed—black slacks, light blue shirt, a small badge with Fluke's company logo on it clipped to his belt. He greeted them politely with a small bow.

"Prem, this is Net—my secretary," Fluke said, gesturing between them. 

Net offered a soft smile. "Swadee Khrab, Khun Prem. 

Prem smiled at Net. "Swadee Khrab. It is really nice to finally meet you," he said simply. "I have heard a lot about you. Earth said you are very thoughtful. And strong."

"Thank you, Khun Prem." Net said politely.

"He's also the person who's been... dating James." Fluke added

Prem's spoon stopped midway to his mouth. His expression didn't change much, but his smile lost its brightness.

Net seemed to pick up on the shift but continued gently. "I wanted to clear something up... the proposal you saw—the one where Khun Boun proposed to James—it wasn't real. It was staged. A fake. The office staff organized it to cheer James up after everything that happened. Khun Boun's name got picked in a lucky draw and he ended up doing iy."

Fluke leaned back in his seat, watching Prem carefully.

Net continued, his tone light and sincere. "James and I have been talking for a while. We met through an app, started chatting, and it just... clicked. We have been on a few dates already. Including one yesterday after work."

Prem simply nodded, taking a sip of his coffee like it was suddenly the most important task in the world.

The silence hung, long and awkward.

Net looked at Fluke, who nodded once.

"You are free to go," Fluke said.

Net gave a polite smile to Prem before turning and walking out.

As the door clicked shut behind him, Fluke glanced over at Prem, whose jaw was tightly set, eyes blank as he stared into his mug.

The coffee had gone cold, but Prem didn't move.

And Fluke didn't speak—he just waited.

Because if anyone knew how Prem processed pain, it was him. And this was the part where Prem needed to sit in silence for a moment, collecting the shards.

What would come next... Fluke wasn't sure.

But he knew Prem had to feel it—fully—before he would be ready to speak again.