Mr. Perfect And Mr. Mess

Fragile Calm

Nanon (weakly): “If you want me to go, then just leave me alone… your perfume is making me more sick.”

Ohm blinked, taken aback.
Ohm: “My… perfume?”

A knock on the door interrupted them. One of the maids entered quietly, carrying a glass.
Maid: “Khun Nanon, please drink this lemonade. It’ll help.”

Nanon nodded tiredly and took it, sipping slowly, the sourness grounding him.

Ohm, meanwhile, walked into the bathroom again, turning on the shower. He stood under the cold water for a long minute, washing off the scent, his own thoughts, and guilt. When he came out, he was wearing a fresh shirt  no perfume this time.

He approached the bed again.
Ohm (gently): “Look, I changed. No scent now. Can we go, please?”

Nanon (quietly): “I’m feeling better. I don’t need to go.”
He glanced at the maid. “You just brought medicine, right?”

The maid froze, unsure how to respond, her eyes flicking to Ohm.

Ohm sighed deeply.
Ohm (tired): “What do you want, Lil Bean?”

Nanon (whisper): “Space. Please… give me space. I’ll be fine.”

He turned over, closing his eyes, shutting the world  and Ohm  out.

Ohm just stood there for a moment, staring at the fragile figure on the bed. His heart ached, but he said nothing. He took the medicine from the maid’s hand, dismissing her quietly.

He placed it on the bedside table, fingers trembling slightly.
Ohm (murmuring): “Why are you behaving like this…?”

Nanon didn’t reply. He just shifted away, curling into himself.

Finally, Ohm exhaled a long, shaky breath and left the room, closing the door softly behind him.
He walked to the study  heavy steps, heavier heart as the silence of the house swallowed the sound of his retreat.

Afternoon sunlight drifted lazily across the study. Ohm sat behind his desk, eyes on the laptop screen, but his mind was somewhere else entirely. Every few minutes, his gaze flicked to the door  half-expecting to hear the faint sound of Nanon calling for him.

He had checked on him three times already. Each time, Nanon was still asleep, curled on his side, face pale and body slightly trembling. The maids moved quietly in and out of the room, updating Ohm in hushed tones.

“He’s still resting, Khun Ohm.”
“He hasn’t eaten anything yet.”

Ohm would just nod each time, forcing a small smile. He didn’t call the doctor he knew too well that if he did, Nanon’s walls would only go higher. Let him breathe, he told himself. Give him space, just like he asked.

But space was beginning to feel like a knife.

Hours later, faint footsteps echoed through the hallway.
Ohm looked up from his desk as one of the maids hurried past.

“Khun Nanon is awake,” she whispered.

Ohm’s heart eased a little. He stayed in the study, listening to the faint sounds of movement from the kitchen.

Nanon stood in front of the fridge, hair still messy, wearing one of Ohm’s oversized shirts. The maids immediately rushed toward him.

Maid (worried): “Khun Nanon, what would you like? I’ll make something quick for you.”

Nanon just shook his head, eyes scanning the shelves until he spotted a chocolate bar. Without a word, he tore it open and began eating.

The maids exchanged glances of relief  this was the first sweet he had touched in two days.

When Ohm entered the lobby, he froze for a moment at the sight. Nanon sitting on the couch, laughing faintly over the phone with Mix, a smear of chocolate on his lip.

It was such a simple sight  but it warmed something deep in Ohm’s chest.

He leaned against the doorway, watching quietly.
Finally, a glimpse of his old self.

But the moment was short-lived.

As soon as Nanon ended the call, his expression changed. His face went pale, his hand flying to his mouth.

Ohm (alarmed): “Nanon!”

Before he could reach him, Nanon bolted down the hall straight to the bathroom. The sound of him retching tore through the silence.

Ohm’s knees gave way for a second. He followed quickly, tears stinging his eyes.
When he found Nanon, he was trembling, one hand gripping the edge of the sink.

Ohm knelt beside him, his voice breaking.
Ohm: “Lil Bean… please…”

He helped Nanon back to bed, gently laying him down and brushing the sweat-damp hair from his forehead.

Ohm (soft but firm): “We’re going to the hospital right now. No more arguments.”
He started gathering Nanon’s things  jacket, phone, a bottle of water.

But Nanon’s weak protest stopped him.
Nanon (almost crying): “I don’t like doctors… I don’t like hospitals. You know that. Still, you’re taking me there? I hate you…”

Ohm froze, heart twisting.
Ohm: “But love, it’s necessary. You’re puking nonstop this isn’t normal. It’s killing me to see you like this.”
He sat on the edge of the bed, voice trembling. “Please… we’ll go together. You can hold my hand as tight as you want, like always.”

Nanon just shook his head.
Nanon (weakly): “No…”

Ohm: “Then what? Should I call the doctor here?”

Nanon shook his head again, lips pressed together, and slowly closed his eyes.

Ohm (frustrated): “Are you mad, or just… stubborn? Can’t you see I’m trying to help you? Why are you fighting me on this?”

His voice cracked, the tension breaking something inside him. But then he took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. He reached out, his thumb brushing lightly against Nanon’s cheek.

Ohm (softly): “Lil Bean… what do you want me to do, hm? What should I do so you’ll agree to see the doctor?”

There was no response.
Nanon had already drifted off to sleep tears still drying on his lashes.

Ohm just sat there, watching him. His own shoulders slumped, exhaustion settling deep in his bones. Slowly, he lay down behind Nanon, wrapping his arms around him from behind  careful, protective.

He buried his face in Nanon’s hair, breathing in that faint, familiar scent that even sickness couldn’t take away.

Ohm’s POV

He’s sleeping now. Thank God.

Every time he closes his eyes, I count his breaths  just to make sure he’s still here.

I’ve seen him angry before. I’ve seen him cry. But this… this quiet suffering is worse. The way he pushes me away  it’s like watching my own heart build walls against me.

I want to take his pain. I want to scream until he listens. But I can’t. I’m afraid that one wrong word, one wrong touch, will make him pull even further away.

He said my perfume makes him sick. So I washed it off.
He said he needs space. So I gave it to him.
And now he’s fading right in front of me.

His skin is cold. His heartbeat feels weak.
And all I can do is hold him and hope that when he wakes up, he’ll let me in again.