SOTUS Drabbles and One-Shots

18. Where We Left Off

Split up & meet by chance 10yrs later AU

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Kongpob texts Lawan, though he knows she often doesn't read his texts, saying that he'll be eating dinner out, having to stay a couple more hours, so don't set aside anything for him. It's not like she would usually, but he enjoys giving her the benefit of the doubt.

As soon as the meeting ends, he revises his own notes, locked up in his office, nothing but a lamp on his desk illuminating the space.

A knock on his door startles him. He drops his pen, glancing up at the door, calling out a come in!

"Oh," he says upon seeing who it is, "N'Boonsri. What is it?"

She holds out some papers to him, which he takes, already flipping through them as she begins— "Khun Jane had asked I review our numbers from the previous year, comparing them to those now, then the projected ones in the meeting. I just wanted to run the completed check by you."

Kongpob smiles as he runs through the numbers one more time before handing the pages back to her. "They look fine to me. Your work is always good, though."

Hesitantly, she smiles back. Then, something in her face changes, a visible hesitation that makes the smile fall from Kongpob's face, brows furrowing instead in concern. "Are you alright, N'Boonsri?"

Boonsri glances away, then back to him, lower lip caught between her two teeth. Finally, she regains the smile that briefly disappeared. "How is your wife, Khun Kongpob?"

Kongpob's lips twitch, not quite a smile, but not a frown either. "She's alright. Is there something you need her for? I think she's available tomorrow."

Quickly, the woman shakes her head. "No, I just," she lets out a breath, smiling lightly, "wanted to know how she's doing."

Kongpob nods, flattening his lips, though he doesn't quite believe her. Either way, he doesn't press. "Well, if you ever need anything, let me know, and I can relay it to her."

"Of course," Boonsri says, ducking her head. "Of course." She brings her notes closer to her chest, the papers held protectively in front of her, as if she's blocking something. What that something is, Kongpob doesn't know. "Well, I guess I'll be going. Have a good evening, Khun Kongpob."

Kongpob smiles tightly, lifting a hand. "You too, N'Boonsri."

She leaves, the door clicking shut quietly behind her.

Kongpob lets out a long breath, a hand coming up to rub at the crease forming between his brows. He leaves one of the reports on his desk unfinished, deciding to go ahead and get dinner now.

Maybe he can come back to the office later.

;

It's tortured him for the past nine years, yet he always returns to that small noodle shop a few blocks away from Siam Polymers' office building. Lawan hates that he goes there—she hates the place, claims the soups are too salty, noodles too chewy, the meatballs are atrocious, but Kongpob knows she doesn't mind it. She just doesn't like the images that fill his head once he enters the place, not that she knows what they are, just that they make Kongpob get lost in thought, mind replaying scenes from ten and some years ago.

He sits at a small table for two near the window, ordering his usual soup with a serving of extra meatballs. He always leaves two or three unfinished, but he doesn't stop ordering that extra serving.

Kongpob's halfway through his bowl when the door jingles and a voice calls back in response to the greeting made by the waitress. His spoon falls from his hand, clattering loudly in his near-empty bowl, a small amount of soup splattering onto his shirt. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he thinks Lawan won't like having to do the extra laundry, though he's perfectly willing to do it too, but that thought is completely overshadowed by the easy recognition of the other voice.