Late afternoon sunlight filtered through the trees as Anupap worked by the stream, cool breeze stirring the papers on his makeshift desk. He closed his laptop with satisfaction—another day's work complete.
A shadow fell across his workspace.
"Dinner. There's this romantic place up the mountain." Atikom's voice came from directly behind him.
Anupap didn't turn around. "Let me guess—if I refuse, you'll stop cooperating with the commercial shoot and I'll have to explain to the company why they should sue you for damages."
"Sue away. I can afford it."
The confident drawl made Anupap's jaw tighten.
"Right, I forgot. Pretty face, rich daddy." Anupap began gathering his documents. "I'll invite the others—"
"Just us two." Atikom's hand settled on the table, blocking the papers. "Otherwise, my performance tomorrow might lack... enthusiasm. The director won't be happy when the project falls behind schedule. They might need a replacement of producer."
Anupap's fingers stilled on the documents. "Another ultimatum."
"Maybe."
"If your performance tomorrow is poor. I will get you removed and send you back to Bangkok. There will be consequences."
"I'm shaking." Atikom's tone suggested the opposite.
Yet something flickered behind those mocking eyes—uncertainty, perhaps. If Anupap ever issued his own ultimatum, would this cocky police officer crumble as easily as his bravado suggested?
"Fine. I need to honor my promise about the commercial anyway. Penance for lying about the car."
"Exactly what I'm worried about." Atikom's voice softened unexpectedly. "If the shoot goes badly, you'll stress yourself into premature wrinkles. Can't have that aging you before your time."
"Never worried about aging."
"Come on, Khun Nu. One dinner won't kill you. Consider it following your boss's orders to keep me happy." The bitterness in that last sentence hung between them.
"Khun Trin ordered Pojanee to babysit you, not me."
"Right, Pojanee." Atikom's laugh held no humor. "Can barely move without her hovering. Probably filming my every move to report back to the emperor."
Anupap pressed his lips together to hide a smile. Atikom picked up jargon from Sombat and Pojanee with alarming speed. The mental image of Trin's reaction to being called 'emperor' was almost worth the headache this dinner would cause.
"I'm going because I'm hungry and want to finish this babysitting assignment. Otherwise you'll never stop pestering me."
"Smart man." Atikom's grin transformed his sharp features into something almost boyish. "Why else would you keep stalling?"
Anupap stood abruptly, collecting his computer bag and documents. "Let me put these away—"
"Leave them in the car. I'm starving." Atikom stepped into his path, gesturing toward the parking area.
Like dealing with a child, Anupap thought, but his feet were already moving toward the car. Experience had taught him that arguing with this particular police officer was futile.
"You must be very hungry, are you?" Atikom called out, deliberately lagging behind.
Anupap's stride quickened. His jaw clenched at the teasing tone. He knew his own temperament well enough—easily provoked, sometimes unable to control his reactions. Meanwhile, Atikom seemed to glide through life with insufferable cheerfulness.
That smug expression. Always smiling, eyes sparkling like he knows some secret joke.
They ate in relative silence. Atikom watched Anupap navigate the mild curry with obvious discomfort, his pale skin flushing from the spice. When Anupap reached for his water glass for the third time, Atikom ladled more of the pineapple curry onto his plate.
"When's the last time you ate a proper meal?" Atikom teased earlier when Anupap had ordered half the menu.
"Worried you can't afford it?"
"I'm worried you'll get chubby. Then who'll want to date you?"
"Good. Dating's a headache." Anupap's chopsticks never paused.
"I have painkillers for headaches."
"Speaking as if you don't know who makes me have headaches." Anupap murmured.
The words settled between them. Atikom found himself studying the way Anupap's throat moved when he swallowed, how his eyelashes cast shadows on his cheeks when he looked down at his plate.
When had dinner become this... intimate?
Years of casual encounters, weekend adventures, nights that ended with warm bodies and forgotten names—none of it had prepared him for this quiet contentment.
Watching someone eat shouldn't feel this significant.
Anupap felt the weight of that stare. Heat crept up his neck as he kept his eyes fixed on his plate. He recognized the signs—Officer Atikom was definitely pursuing him now. The man had dangerous charm and relentless determination when he wanted something.
The question was: what happened when he got it? Men like Atikom, who could have anyone they wanted, often lost interest once the chase ended. Anupap had heard the warnings: "Date a player and you'll cry yourself to sleep, always wondering whose bed he's warming when he's not warming yours."
"Great food. Didn't expect you to eat this much. Whoever ends up with you better have deep pockets."
Anupap set down his spoon. "I don't plan on being anyone's expense."
"What if someone wants to take care of you?"
The question hung in the air. Anupap's gaze drifted to the trees swaying by the stream. When he spoke, his voice was barely audible, as if talking to himself: "Rare thing, someone who can truly nourish another person. We don't live on rice alone."
Atikom went still, processing those quiet words.
Something in Anupap's tone suggested hidden depths, unspoken history. A wall had gone up—but walls could be climbed, couldn't they?
Let's see what you're really hiding, the unwavering police officer thought, his determination crystallizing into something sharper, more focused. This should be interesting.
After dinner, Atikom suggested a walk to the viewpoint near the dam. Anupap surprised him by not protesting, though he did mutter, "What's there to see in this darkness?"
"Shooting stars. Fresh air. Nature appreciation. Digestion." Atikom counted off on his fingers.
Anupap raised a hand in surrender. "Fine, fine. Your reasons are all perfectly noble. Let's go." He strode toward the car without waiting for a response.
The viewing area stretched wide beside the cliff road that wound up the other side of Srinakarin Dam. Night had settled deep and dark, the crescent moon casting silver ripples across the distant reservoir. Towering trees formed a natural wall along the left side of the clearing, their branches swaying in the gentle breeze with soft whispers. To the right, the land opened onto layers of mountains folding into darkness.
Anupap crossed his arms against the chill, walking to the small bamboo fence that separated solid ground from empty space. Cool air brushed his face as he peered down into the black void below.
"Beautiful stars." The deep voice beside his ear broke the silence.
Anupap turned. Atikom stood nearby, face tilted toward the sky, his sharp profile etched in pale moonlight. Only now did Anupap fully register how tall this troublesome police officer was—like a mountain blocking the gentle breeze that had been reaching him.
Could this mountain shelter me? The thought came unbidden. Even mountain like Chavis can crumble...
"There'll be shooting stars soon." Atikom interrupted his wandering thoughts.
"Psychic powers? You know it's going to happen?" Anupap couldn't resist the jab.
A low chuckle rumbled in Atikom's throat. "Experience. I've watched stars from mountaintops many times. See them fairly often."
"Right. Probably brought plenty of people up here to 'watch.'" Anupap emphasized the word with unmistakable sarcasm.
"Khun Nu, don't ruin the atmosphere." The stargazer's protest sounded wounded, though his eyes glinted with amusement. So he can tease too, Atikom thought, stealing a sideways glance.
Before either could speak again, two shooting stars chased each other across the sky studded with glittering white points of light.
Anupap's eyes widened, a soft exclamation escaping him. He absorbed the natural beauty, trying to remember when he'd last experienced such wonder at the night sky. Since graduation, city life had consumed him with work—he rarely even noticed a full moon.
"They say if you see a shooting star, you should make a wish for anything you want." The expert began his lecture. "Try making a wish, Khun Nu."
"You believe in that sort of thing?" Anupap asked, his face still turned skyward, hoping to catch another falling star.
Atikom studied Anupap's profile with gentle eyes. "Can't hurt to try."
They stood in silence. Soon another shooting star appeared, this time a clear white streak across the firmament, moving slowly toward the horizon as if waiting for two men to make their wishes in time.
Atikom asked what Anupap had wished for. The younger man shrugged, saying he'd asked for work to go smoothly.
"Sure that's all?"
"What else would I ask for?" The work-focused man glanced at his curious companion before returning his gaze to the sky.
"People usually wish to find their soulmate, find love, have their romantic hopes fulfilled—things like that." Atikom stepped directly in front of Anupap, looking down with sparkling eyes, hands casually tucked in his pockets with supreme confidence.
"Who makes wishes like that? Ridiculous." Anupap's breath caught. His eye level aligned with the larger man's lips, which were curved in a soft smile. A neat line of recently shaved stubble shadowed his jaw. The faint scent of shaving cream drifted toward him—bergamot, of all things—and Anupap felt his composure slipping. He hadn't expected Atikom to move this close.
"I did. I wished to find someone to love."
"Then I hope it comes true." Anupap didn't know what else to say. Atikom was making him lose control. Heat and cold warred through his body as the breeze picked up. With Atikom positioned in front of him, the wind now hit him full force—his 'living mountain' no longer shielding him.
"I think I'm close to getting my wish. At least I've found someone I like. It shouldn't be hard for liking to become love."
What? Found someone? Anupap heard Atikom's voice close by, warm breath grazing his forehead. What kind of police officer uses bergamot shaving cream? He felt spellbound. What flavor gum is he chewing? That cool scent...
Anupap stood frozen.
"Khun Nu." The deep voice called his name.
Without thinking, Anupap looked up at the man hoping for his wish to come true. Atikom's gaze sparkled like moonlight on wind-rippled water, his lips curved in the faintest smile. That boyish expression made Anupap's face burn with embarrassment.
He looked away, glancing left and right into the surrounding darkness, arms tightening across his chest as he shivered slightly. His exhaled breath brushed against Atikom's throat, sending what felt like electricity crackling through the officer's chest and down to his tensing abdomen.
"Getting cold. We should head back."
"Cold?" Atikom asked softly, moving incrementally closer, as if to say—if you're cold, I'll warm you up.
Anupap stepped back, turned, and hurried toward the car. Atikom shook his head with a satisfied smile, pleased at having successfully flustered him.
They rode back in complete silence, mutual attraction beginning to crystallize between them.
Anupap stared out the window into the darkness ahead, his mind churning in confusion. He fought against the feelings rising within him. The walls he'd built to keep everyone out for so many years were trembling. Yet he remained bewildered, his head full of chaotic uncertainty about countless things he couldn't even explain to himself.
In the Ing Than Resort parking lot, Anupap quietly thanked Atikom before opening the car door and walking back to his accommodation. Atikom watched that figure until it disappeared from sight. Satisfaction swelled in his chest, threatening to burst free. This must be what they meant by a heart full to overflowing. He felt his pulse quickening, growing louder, like ceremonial drums at an important celebration.
He shook his head, laughing softly at himself. He felt embarrassed by his own vitality, like a young boy experiencing first love.
I definitely won't sleep tonight, Officer Atikom thought. If Tongrob knew, he'd never stop laughing.
Atikom whistled softly as he walked back to his room, periodically looking up at the sky in case more shooting stars appeared. Tonight he needed to try to sleep. "So you'll wake up handsome and fresh-faced," as Anupap had once said.
Anupap... Anupap... Anupap... The name echoed in his head all night long.
The image of Anupap's embarrassed face before he turned and "fled" back to the car haunted him until he could barely sleep.
If anyone had photographed the cunning officer in his sleep, they would have seen that stern, intense face wearing a gentle smile throughout the night.
***