Chapter 6

While Kong was asleep, I quietly sat in the lounge, drafting a project to present to my friends tomorrow. But after several hours, Kong still hadn't woken up. When I checked on him in his room, I saw him sleeping peacefully like a baby. I left my notebook on the headboard and went downstairs to grab something to eat.

"How's Mister Kong doing?" Nanny Thim asked as I entered the kitchen.

"He's out cold. What do we have for dinner?" I walked over and hugged her soft waist. Nanny Thim was like a second mother to me. She'd raised me since I was little and knew exactly what I liked and disliked.

"Even at this age, you still need my pampering?" Nanny Thim said, stroking my head.

"Well, there's no one else to pamper me," I replied. Nanny Thim just smiled warmly at me, and that was enough to make me feel content.

"Oh, my dear Pat... Tonight, we have stuffed squid stir-fried with garlic, sweet and sour river prawns, fried egg with climbing wattle and shrimp paste, crab curry, a clear seaweed soup with pork, and for dessert, your favorite, bua loi[1] with sweet egg. All your favorites."

Just hearing the menu made me drool. I devoured the dinner, nearly clearing out all the dishes. It wasn't gluttony; my body just has a fast metabolism, plus I used to be a competitive swimmer. Back when I was on the national team, I could eat up to seven meals a day because of the energy I burned swimming. And for Kong's share, I'd already set some aside for him.

It was almost six o'clock, so he must be starving by now. After I was full, I returned to check on the unintentional guest in my house. But I wondered... how would Kong react to waking up in my home? I hadn't thought about that.

I brought him to my place without knowing if he was conscious. What if Kong woke up and panicked for not finding anyone familiar? With that thought, I hurried to the elevator. As soon as I reached the door, I burst into the room.

The prominent figure standing at the end of the bed was startled.

I was also surprised that he was already awake. His face looked as confused as I'd imagined. I noticed Kong was clutching my pillow tightly, but as soon as he realized he was being watched, he tossed it back onto the bed carelessly and resumed his stern expression.

"Want to go down for dinner? It's already prepared," I said, covering my mouth to hide my smile. I'd just noticed the amusing contrast of the grumpy Kong in a cartoon pajama set I'd bought from an amusement park in Japan. This wasn't intentional teasing. I didn't have much time to choose then, so I grabbed whatever was available.

"How did I end up here?" he asked.

"What do you remember?"

"You're such a pain in the ass," Kong grumbled. "I remember walking out of the chicken rice shop... and that's all."

I figured he probably remembered fainting and begging me not to take him to the hospital. It's just that someone like him wouldn't easily admit it.

"What kind of clothes did you change me into?" Kong asked, looking down at his pants.

"Pajamas," I replied with an innocent face.

"You took off my clothes when I was out?" he asked again, his voice low and his brown eyes glaring at me like a cop was trying to wring a confession out of a criminal. I smirked, trying to cover up my flushed cheeks as the image of Kong lying half-naked on my bed flashed through my mind.

"Yeah, I did. I cleaned you up, too. Nothing weird happened, don't worry."

"Nothing weird happened?" Kong furrowed his brows, and I realized I might've said too much in my excitement.

"Yeah, yeah, let's just say you're at my place now. End of story," I said, cutting the conversation short and pretending to tidy up the bedding.

"This is your house?" he asked, scanning the room.

"Yes, that's a picture of me. Didn't you see it?" I pointed to a framed photo on the nightstand. Kong didn't respond but crossed his arms and maintained his sullen demeanor. I really wanted to ask if his face ever got tired from doing that.

Rumble...

The sound of a growling stomach came from the tall guy in cartoon pajamas. I couldn't help but let out a suppressed chuckle, but Kong was a pro at keeping a straight face. No matter how loudly his stomach protested, he kept his expression unchanged, except for his ears turning red. I feared if I kept laughing, I might get punched in the face, so I walked over and grabbed his hand.

"What are you doing?" he asked, tensing up and resisting.

Come on, man... you've grabbed me with such audacity several times before. Why can't I do the same, huh?

"Let's go eat."

I bent down to pick up a pair of black slippers from the front of the room and offered them to him. Kong looked at me without taking them, so I explained, "The floor outside is marble, not carpeted like in the bedroom. You're going to walk out barefoot? Your feet will get cold."

"You sure are too much," Kong mumbled, rolling his eyes before finally taking the slippers I handed him.

"Don't let go of my hand, okay? My house is big; you might get lost," I said as the taller one pulled his hand away. Kong seemed to mutter another complaint, but I wasn't listening anymore—I just wanted to keep holding his hand.

Once we were out of the bedroom, I began explaining the different parts of the house to him, not really caring if he was interested (though Kong did seem to be looking around with some curiosity). But when I heard his stomach rumble again, I didn't want to torture the poor guy any longer and quickly led him down to the small dining room downstairs.

"Aren't you going to eat, too?" he asked awkwardly as someone served him rice.

"I've eaten already. You go ahead."

Even though the scent of food wafted to my nose again, I wouldn't take Kong's share. I'd eaten so much that my stomach felt like bursting. I sat down and asked a house staff for a glass of milk, deciding to keep Kong company, whether he seemed to want it or not. In less than half an hour, he'd finished all the rice in the bowl, and the side dishes had been gone for ten minutes. I went to warm up some sausages and ham for him to eat with his rice. When I asked if he wanted more, he nodded yes. He must've been starving.

I looked at him while sipping milk, finding the guy quite pleasing to the eye. When Kong realized I was staring, he slowed his eating pace. But as soon as I pretended to turn my attention to the TV on the wall, he went back to wolfing down his food. What was up with him? There was no need to be shy.

"You want some bua loi with sweet egg? Nanny Thim's bua loi is delicious."

Kong nodded quickly, so I smiled broadly and walked into the kitchen to scoop some bua loi into a bowl for him. Then I sat back down and continued watching TV.

"Thanks," he said.

"For what?" I turned back to the owner of the deep voice, feeling an odd flutter in my chest.

"For helping me. If you need anything..."

"You're welcome. I help where I can."

I knew what he was getting at. I didn't bring him here expecting gratitude or to seek some kind of favor in return. Kong looked at me quietly, his thoughts inscrutable. We didn't speak further until he finished his dessert and then mentioned he should head home.

"Leaving now?" I asked, but then Kong suddenly rose from the dining table.

"Where's Dum[2]? I mean! Where's my motorbike?"

Did Kong name his motorbike? They said people who named their belongings tend to be gentle at heart.

"I had Nat move it for you. It's in the garage," I replied.

"Then I need the keys," Kong extended his hand.

"Can't you stay the night?" I asked, glancing at his large, rough hands before adding, "Stay here tonight and go back in the morning. Do you have classes tomorrow?"

Kong frowned and shook his head in refusal. "No, but I can't stay. I have work at 9 p.m."

"Playing guitar?" My eyes lit up instantly. I remember during the Moon and Star contest, Kong chose to play the acoustic guitar, showcasing his talent. At first, I thought he'd play some common Thai song, but he chose to play Mas que nada, sending the audience into a frenzy. Even watching from the monitor, I couldn't help but be impressed.

What a guy with sky-high sex appeal!

"You don't need to know."

Kong kept getting on my nerves, constantly throwing jabs my way. I wanted to get annoyed, but then I remembered he'd just recovered from a heatstroke earlier today. Letting him go back to work when he wasn't fully recovered—could he really handle it?

"Fine then, I'll go with you," I decided.

I'd decided to keep an eye on him—uh, to look after him. Because, well, what could I do? I'd already taken him under my care, after all.

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[1] A Thai dessert consists of rice flour rolled into small balls and cooked in coconut milk, sugar, and an optional sweet egg.

[2] Dum (ดำ) means black.