Letters to my beloved [Complete]

Chapter 26

"No but we have to eat here. You want to eat here."

"We can eat here tomorrow night, ok. Right now we need to get home."

Surprisingly, for a drunk belligerent, he was pretty docile. He even let me grab his arm and walk him towards his building without arguing. I guess he was more or less focused on rattling out the list of dishes he wanted to eat.

I looked at him as we noisily made our way towards his home. It had been so long since I had seen drunk P'Arthit that I forgot how much I missed drunk P'Arthit. He used to be massively entertaining. And talkative. In fact it was hard to get him to stop once he began started drunkenly pouring out his deepest secrets.

And hence, perfect opportunity, say hi to silver platter.

I cleared my throat slightly as I decided the best way to get a little more probing done on the thorn in my side keeping me up all night.

"So...uh....P'...did your girlfriend get home ok?"

But instead of responding he suddenly stopped walking and flipped around and grabbed both my arms, his expressions looking comically worried.

"I have a girlfriend? Shit! I don't want a girlfriend. I have to break up with her. Who's my girlfriend? Kong! Help me break with her."

"No, no, no. Don't break up with her."

"But I don't want a girlfriend."

"P' you are just drunk right now and not thinking straight. You looked so happy with her earlier. And you..."

"Earlier?"

"Yeah at Adele's."

"You were also at Adele's? Why don't I remember talking to you. Did I forget to eat too? I think that is why I am hungry."

Shit!

"No I mean not at Adele's. Earlier. I saw you earlier. At the library. Yeah, there. I saw you outside the library. And you were laughing and hugging and looking happy. See, you don't want to break up with your girlfriend."

"Library? You mean Misa? Oh shit! Don't scare me like that. Misa is like my older sister. Phew! For a second I almost believed I got a girlfriend when I really want is y..."

"Careful!"

It was the third time he had tripped right over his own feet, and if I hadn't tightened my grip around his arm in time he would have faceplanted right in the middle of the road. But thankfully his almost fall had distracted him away from my blunder about spying on them. Not that his drunk brain might even remember any of this come morning.

On a positive note, not his girlfriend huh?

Why was I feeling like this invisible weight was finally lifted off my chest, I wasn't really sure, but suddenly I was a lot more amused by his drunken antics. And tomorrow I even promise to stuff him with as much food as his heart desires.

My upbeat mood lasting literally 5 minutes cause as soon as we struggled through the door of his apartment, he immediately unbuckled his belt, slipped down the pant zipper, pushed down his jeans, and fell straight on his face. What else can you expect when an intoxicated man tries to take his pants off with his shoes still on.

"P'! What are you doing!"

"Oww..."

He rubbed the part of his face that had very recently been acquainted with the ground, still trying to desperately get his pants off. Shoes very much still on his feet.

"I want to go to sleep."

"I know. I am trying to help. Can you just stay still for one second please?"

It was like battling an overexcited toddler but eventually I managed to pull out his shoes, socks, and pants as he kept trying to crawl towards his bed.

"Look what you did. Now you are bleeding."

A small cut right over his eyebrow had begun dripping a trail of crimson. Some even getting caught in his eyelashes as he tried to blink it away.

"Just stay here. Do not move. I will be back in one minute."

Finally managing to push him down on his bed I ran to his small box of medical supplies, and was totally not surprised that every single item in it was long expired. I swear the man should be under constant supervision.

By the time I made my way back with a cotton swab, makeshift bandage and hopefully non-poisonous disinfectant, he was propped against the bed, eyes closed, almost half asleep. So I sat next to him as silently as I could, tenderly dabbing on his cut while he continued drifting off to dream land.

I had just finished placing the tiny bandaid carefully across the wound and was appreciating my handiwork when I noticed the pair of eyes intensely staring into mine.

It felt like the air around us instantly stilled. The ferocity of his gaze keeping me pinned to my position. Once again a few too many emotions cycling through them. Some that were impossible for me to understand. Some that sucked me in their whirlpool, drowning my rational thoughts.

Which might explain why even when I clearly saw him move his hand and place it around my neck, I didn't move. Watched as he moved in closer to me, inch by inch, until his lips were almost against mine, I barely even flinched.

I know for sure my brain has gone for a vacation cause I am pretty confident that P'Arthit was kissing me and I had almost no reaction. Actually worse, I did have one. The wrong kind. I was actually responding back. Our heads naturally angling to continue nibbling at each other's mouths. Slowly beginning to taste the bitter sweetness.

What the fuck was wrong with me?

How did we end up in a position where we are kissing? I mean understandably the man was drunk, but what hell was my excuse?

Wait, no. Again wrong question. Why was there any version of P'Arthit kissing me? Drunk or sober?

Well, hopefully my stupid brain finds the answers to these questions once it returns from the rather inconvenient break its on cause he had somehow managed to maneuver me in a way that I was now flat on my back while he was practically crawling over me, and I had still made zero attempts to stop him. It almost felt like his lips were magnets I couldn't help but be fused against.

His hands slowly sliding under my t-shirt making the smart thing to do that much more difficult. It wasn't until he finally pulled his mouth away to allow for to suck in a shallow gulp of air did I even consider that he wasn't completely in his senses, and that I should very definitely push him away. I did consider it. I swear. I even lifted my arms slightly, almost ready to push against his body. But I didn't. I just let him rain down kisses across my jaw, slowly dipping towards the nape of my neck.

Why?

Because one of the most attractive men I have ever met was currently grinding his dick against mine. I think it is time to seriously question my self-control.

And just as suddenly as this onslaught had begun, all the while I was internally spazzing out, he buried his face in the crook of my shoulder and completely passed out. Just like that. His entire body weight pressing down on me. Muted snores tickling my ear. Leaving me rock hard, and frustrated, and very, very confused.

Only two thoughts flashing through my head. I have a crush on a man I have never met and I just made out with my very recently transformed ex-arch enemy. I am so screwed!

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