Lights! Camera!....Love! [Complete]

15

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A/N: Sorry about the short update! Unfortunately for the next few weeks, they will be tinier and sparser cause I gotta go defend my dissertation next month!

Oh and I finally made a twitter thing: @rulesofvienna. What should I do with it now? 

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I hate whenever Arthit gets that intensely serious look on his face. It always does funny things to my stomach. Especially when he turns that gaze my way. Although to be fair in our nine-year history it really hasn't happened all that often. But somehow why does it feel that lately, he seems to look at me more and more strangely. So when he got up from the seat across, slowly walking towards me, a pink tongue peeking out of his mouth as it languidly licked the edge of his lips, his eyes never once leaving mine, my heart having a very hard time figuring out how to beat. My breath stuck in my throat as I watched him lean over me, his face barely an inch away from me when all of a sudden his head dipped down, tightly grabbed my wrist within his hand and stuffed the entire rest of the cone in his mouth in one go. Straightening upright, mouth still vigorously chewing on the rest of my ice cream, about to turn around when he dropped bang in my lap, his hand holding his head in apparent pain.

"Ow, ow, ow, brain freeze ..."

Did I happen to mention I am stupidly in love with the weirdest man on the planet?

And I swear the man is getting weirder by the day. Like, remember how just last week Arthit was running a marathon to simply not spend more than 10 minutes in the same room as me. He was even willing to hang out with Charlie, Charlie of all the people, while this out of world crazy desire to run away from me suddenly struck the man. He even went so far as to kick me out of his shooting when he was the one who has thrown fit after fit until I promised him I would stick around to watch all of his shoots.

But then there was this week. The man has dived into his brain and unleashed a completely new personality yet again. This time he is behaving like a silent, brooding man, trying to self reflect on his life with deep looks into the sunset. And trust me that look doesn't suit him one bit. I actually miss my happy, bubbly friend. The one who throws tantrums, and has whimsical ideas, or who is crankily chattering about how much Charlie or Krystal annoyed him that day. 

Except what I got was my brilliant actor acting all cheerful in a room full of people but as soon as we were alone I would immediately get radio silence. Sitting all obediently next to me in the car on the way home. Or quietly eating his breakfast on my kitchen table. Well, at least he wasn't running away from me anymore. Now I just have to figure out what the hell is all of this about anyway. Which means I got to go talk to the boy.

And to me, that is one big, big, BIG problem. You see I am not a really good talker. Guess who in our relationship is? In fact, the last time I tried having a 'talk' with Arthit was four years ago and trust me that so did not go well. So when I say I was totally not looking forward to this venture it was a massive understatement. But all said and done, as his best friend and his agent I need to figure out what complicated stew is brewing in that man's head.  

So after one particularly long, difficult day of not having heard even one accidental word from hin, I decided enough is enough. Today was the day I was going to face this upfront. I took a deep breath. Rehearsed my speech in my head once again cause I definitely do not want to repeat the debacle from four years ago. For the first time in just so long I stood outside his apartment hesitating as I raised my hand to knock on his door. 

You know what, I need to take a page out of Arthit's book. Enough of clucking around like a chicken. He barged into my place all the time and if I wanted to get to the bottom of whatever was bugging him I needed to do exactly that. So I punched in his door code, rolling my eyes as to how he still refuses to take 10 seconds to actually change it and pushed the door open. My feet immediately faltering with the very first step.

Were those voices I was hearing coming from his bedroom?

Apparently, they were. Muffled sounds wafting through the tightly shut door of his room. When the hell did he bring someone over? He was with me until just 10 minutes ago. In fact, I explicitly asked him if he wanted to hang out tonight and all he came back with was how tired he was and how badly he needed sleep. He didn't even have dinner before he walked straight into his place and left me gaping behind him in the empty hallway. Arthit actually refused food. I don't think you people get how big a deal that was. And for what? Just to slip someone into his room without letting me know? 

My very first reaction obviously was to turn right around and march as far away from those silent moans as possible cause heaven knows I don't want to ever walk into that situation ever again but then just one thought held my feet back. When was the last time Arthit actually hid a relationship from me? 

Ummm.....never!

In fact, I am sure my bruised heart would actually appreciate a little more discretion from his part but he was more than happy all through the years to parade his girlfriends, and affairs, and his one night stands right under my nose. Discussing them relentlessly with me in the gravest of details. Never once considering keeping his love life even a little bit more private. So why the hell was he hiding his current conquest from me?

A rather scary image of Krystal flashing brightly in the front of my mind. 

No fucking way! If that idiot sleeps with that crazy wench again I swear I am going to personally murder than man. And then revive him only to slaughter him some more. 

My teeth clenching super tight as I stomped through the kitchen towards his bedroom, not even bothering to knock as I slammed open the door. The jaw that was two seconds ago focusing on all my frustration with him suddenly hit the floor.

Cause there that dimwit sat. Bang in the middle of his bed with a huge bowl of popcorn, a book on his lap, the pen his hand poised over it, as he stared with full concentration on the massive tv on the wall, furiously taking notes.

Was that...was that gay porn?