They said the villa had no owner. No history. No reason it should be that cheap. And obviously, I said, perfect! I'm broke and half-dead anyway. But now I live in a house that breathes in the dark, stays cold no matter how hot Bangkok gets, and smells like wilted roses and secrets. And that locked door upstairs that hums when I walk past it... like it knows my name. Maybe the rumours ARE true. Maybe the house IS wrong. Maybe I should run. But between deadlines, debt, and the strange man who keeps showing up in my dreams... I think it's already too late.

He was there. I could feel him, even though I couldn't see him. I could smell his cologne, I could hear his loud breathing. I could feel his gaze on me, burning on my skin, my body, my soul. It was like a torture. A blissful torture.

COMPLETE. This is a fanfiction. This is NOT real. This is a boy's love genre story. If you do not like this, please do not read. Any event described in this story is from my own imagination. The story is about an alternate universe Krist and Singto. I do not own the images, they belong to the photographers. I do not own the men, they belong to themselves (and GMMTV...) I only own the plot, and that is not much.