Blindfolded [Complete]

Connected

"Who the fuck are you?"

"I..."

My lips slightly parted I gaped at the man scowling at me.

"You are the friend, aren't you?"

"The friend?"

But before the man drenched in tattoos could growl at me some more the blaring ringtone of an incoming call distracted him from glaring at me. And without even answering his call he began muttering under his breath as he turned around to look at the approaching Arthit through the slightly ajar door. His clear annoyance suddenly morphing into an expression I couldn't completely understand as I silently watched Arthit simply shove the man out the threshold of his door before wrapping an extremely warm hand around my wrist to pull me inside. Slamming the door straight in the face of the man who looked like he was just about to voice his argument.

"Arthit, wait..."

I stared at the shut door for a few moments, confused at the brief interaction before turning my attention back to the man of the hour, who was currently wearing a cartoonishly broad smile, giving me the second shock of the day within just a matter of seconds.

And this one I can safely say was definitely the more surprising one, cause by all that's holy did the boy look beyond hideous. If the extra red blush flashing across his face was only thing I wouldn't have been just this shocked. It was more of the mile wide dark circles stamped firmly under his swollen bloodshot eyes. Or the stream of snot running down both his nostrils. Or perhaps it was the greasy hair that was probably unwashed since the last time I saw him stuck like glue onto his scalp. But most likely it was the intense heat that was radiating out of his body clearly indicating just how sick he really was and yet his fake smile hadn't once left his face.

"Kong? What are you doing here? I thought I was supposed to meet you at your place."

Confused at his question and even more so about his cheerful demeanor I stared at him for a few beats before simply turning my head towards the clock hanging on the wall.

"Well...I tried calling..."

Following the direction of my gaze, Arthit's gaze widened in surprise, before he swung around and began digging through the gigantic mess of blankets and quilts currently strewn around on his bed.

"Shit, it's this late already? I didn't even realize you were calling? I must have fallen alseep. Shit, shit, shit. Where the fuck is my phone?"

"How long have you been sick? Why didn't you tell me?"

Still keeping his back to me, his hunt for the phone still continuing, he shrugged his shoulders in a flippant response.

"Sick? I am not sick. I was just sleeping."

Frowning at his words that were clearly not true, bouncing between itching to inquire who the man was that was just in his house and wanting to worry about him being obviously too ill to sleep through all the hundreds of calls and messages I had sent him all day, I kept staring at his slightly shivering back.

While he was still digging through the pile of pillows I took a moment to look around his room, the very first time I was actually standing in his own personal alcove, and what I saw took me aback even more.

Why did I assume that since Arthit lived in the same building as Kite, he was reasonably well off too. That the whole escort thing was nothing more than a side hustle for a little extra pocket money. But this...? This was weird.

His apartment or rather his room was nothing more than a storage closet or something, a little extra space in the building they didn't know what to do with and ended up putting up four flimsy walls and renting it out to some poor ignorant soul. I mean, they hadn't even done a decent job in the barely there walls, since I could clearly still see the steel pipes running the length of the fake brick separation, the paint peeling off showing the rusting metal underneath.