TWISTED THREAD

Part 23: Breaking Point

Phuwin sat in his car, gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white.

Pond was inside his apartment, waiting for an answer. A real one. Not the half-truths Phuwin had been telling himself for months.

But the moment he'd admitted it—I love him too—he had seen something in Pond's eyes shatter.

And now, Phuwin didn't know if there was any way to fix it.

His phone buzzed.

Santa: I don't hate you.

Phuwin's chest tightened.

Because for the first time, Santa wasn't asking for anything. Not his time, not his loyalty, not his love.

Just stating a fact.

A fact that made Phuwin feel like the worst person alive.

He exhaled shakily, turning off his phone and resting his forehead against the steering wheel.

No matter what he did now, someone was going to get hurt.

And this time?

It wasn't just him.

⸻

Meanwhile.

Santa was staring at the ceiling of Perth's bedroom, heart pounding in his ears.

The sheets were twisted around his legs. His skin was still warm from Perth's touch.

But his mind?

A complete mess.

Because no matter how much he wanted to believe this was just physical—just a distraction—it wasn't.

Santa turned his head slightly, eyes landing on Perth, who was propped up on one elbow, watching him.

Santa swallowed. "What?"

Perth exhaled through his nose. "You're thinking too much."

Santa scoffed, rolling onto his side. "You're not?"

Perth studied him for a moment before shrugging. "No point thinking about things you can't change."

Santa let out a humorless laugh. "That's the difference between us, huh?"

Perth hummed. "I guess."

Silence settled between them, thick and heavy.

Then—

Santa reached for him.

Perth let him.

Their lips met—soft, slow, lingering.

This time, it wasn't rushed. Wasn't desperate.

It just was.

And for the first time in a long time, Santa let himself believe that maybe—just maybe—he could choose this.

Choose Perth.

And not regret it.

⸻

Joong stared at Dunk from across the room, arms crossed.

Dunk was avoiding his gaze.

Boom had messed with his head again. Joong could tell. It was in the way Dunk's shoulders were tense, the way he was fidgeting with his hands.

Joong took a deep breath before stepping forward. "Dunk."

Dunk flinched.

Joong hated that.