Through Quiet Days

Daotok's perfect world-the one he had carefully imagined, the one where control meant safety and silence meant power-was quietly collapsing. The walls he had built to protect himself were giving way, piece by piece. The anger, the secrecy, the spite he had clung to so tightly had never shielded him at all. They had only isolated him further.

Now everything felt like it was slipping through his fingers. And the cruelest irony of all- The only thing left to hold on to, the only thing steady enough to keep him from completely falling apart, were the hands of the one man he had sworn to hate.

Arthit Akkarakitwattanakul.

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.