Etched.

Chapter 6

And he killed some more, refusing to accept the little part of him that was yearning to see the smile on Kongpob's face.

And one day a genius thought entered Arthit's head. He'd just indulge in Kongpob's tears until he didn't want to see the pretty smile. And Arthit was confident that these stupid thoughts were invading his head because he hadn't fucked someone in a while.

So he found himself texting Kongpob from his new number, to meet him at his house at 7 pm sharp. And like the puppy Kongpob was, he arrived 15 minutes early.

But Arthit made home wait outside while watching through the bedroom window upstairs, sipping on some whiskey. Staring at Kongpob sitting on his doorsteps, waiting patiently. Tapping his foot nervously and biting his lips, looking down at the time on his phone.

Arthit let him in at 7 pm, blankly telling him to go downstairs, take a right, and head to the second room.

Kongpob nodded but stood still, squirming under the heated stare. "How's your arm?"

Arthit blankly stared and took another sip, staring at Kongpob. Then downing the entire glass and stared at him, licking his lips.

Kongpob stared for a couple more seconds before giving a small smile and heading down, more like running. Holding his pounding chest.

It was the past weeks without Arthit bugging or terrorizing him that made him realize what Arthit meant to him. And he felt silly saying it, but Arthit was his first love. Is his first love.

From the first day their eyes met in the black mask, Kongpob was mesmerized. He denied and denied. And he thought that all those things Arthit did, would destroy the small liking he had for the masked killer.

But no, it only grew with the tiniest of care he received. Even though Arthit stated clearly that he didn't care, but those small actions mattered to him. Even if Arthit didn't care, he still did it for him.

And that mattered the whole world to Kongpob and he was so grateful. And he wanted to tell Arthit to stay safe, for him. Because Kongpob couldn't stand the thought of Arthit getting hurt, he'd rather bleed, let Arthit bleed him out. If Arthit lived without a single scratch.

He was welcomed into the room that was dimly lit. The entire interior was matte black with small off-white lights, giving enough light to guide you without tripping. And the room looked so cool. Perfect for a movie night.

But Kongpob knew he wasn't called here for a date night, but he was happy to see more of Arthit's house. More of his space and life. He felt special.

His jaw dropped as he went a little further into the room and froze looking at the hooks on the wall. All sorts of whips, floggers, belts, and other things Kongpob didn't know were there.

"We're gonna have a long night," Kongpob heard a whisper right in his ear, the hot breath fanning his neck and ear.

Rising goosebumps all over his skin. But before he could fathom those words, he was turned around and thrown on the bed.

His clothes were ripped off and on the floor in record time. And so many of his clothes were destroyed by Arthit, that he barely put any effort into buying clothes. Especially expensive ones, because Arthit would just rip them all anyway.

So now his closet was full of cheap sweatpants with baggy buy one get one free graphic tees. He had no one to impress with his clothes anyway.

Arthit had him tied and bound in no time. His knees tied to his thighs and he was set up like an offering, just a piece of meat for Arthit to please himself with.