The Next Prince, Chapter 32 pg5
The Next Prince, Chapter 32 pg5
The loneliness in his heart and the coldness he had faced before were replaced by the warm breath of the small person. Khanin slept soundly. Just lying still like that, but little did the owner know how much it meant to Charan.
Even though the horrendous memories of the past had somewhat faded, every time Charan saw rain and droplets of blood, his heart couldn't endure as strongly as he tried to show.
Charan thought it had always been difficult since he lost his mother... until now.
“I can't fully answer myself, but isn't it good that I'm still alive right now?” “Isn't it good that it's good to be right here...”
“...”
“It's good that we could meet each other.”
Yes, that's great news that they found each other.
“Wow...” The soft sound of someone sleeping calling out a smile on their serene face. Khanin shifted his body, his small hands tightly clasping the larger arms, reducing the distance between them.
The adorable face tilted to receive gentle strokes like a kitten seeking a cozy spot to sleep. The small head moved back and forth, even nuzzling against the warm corner of the person's mouth. The owner of the body surrendered, his pale form relaxing.
Charan hesitated, the warm lips almost craving for warmth, the tingling sensation from touching soft skin with his lips, merged with the scent of a fragrant, clean body, much like a small electric current coursing into the heart.
A single kiss commanded the brain to retreat, but ultimately it allowed itself to remain in the same position, embracing the warm breath of the person in front, burying its nose in their hair without moving away.
The rainstorm outside the window didn't lessen in the slightest, and the temperature didn't drop. However, this time Charan didn't hear any other sounds except... the sound of his own heartbeat.
23:23, PM.
In the midst of a half-asleep, half-awake dream. Khanin couldn't distinguish whether this was reality or just thoughts in a world of illusions. The whispered words were muffled and unclear, but they invited sweet dreams, making him reluctant to wake up.
If it's a dream...
“I like...”
“...”
“I like you, Nin.”
It's a dream that looks good to watch…
…
At this time, the rain poured relentlessly, engulfing Emmaly. Petai looked at the person standing nearby, motionless and concerned, gazing out through the window.
“It's already late... Let's talk tomorrow, okay?”
“No, I want to clear things up and finish it. You should go to bed first.” Because they had to wait for Rachata to finish his socializing with prominent business figures in the country. Ramil could only enter a state of anticipation once again.
The information they had received from Sivakorn was not something they could afford to delay.
“You go to bed, I'll follow.” Ramil exerted pressure on the person behind him, urging them to step up the stairs to the second floor of the palace.
“Okay.” It's not that Petai wanted to rush upstairs or anything, but he knew well that staying here would be pointless. Whether it was good or bad, the situation could become more intense if Rachata saw his face. In the end, he consented and slipped away.
Inside the waiting hall, there was only Ramil, the oppressive silence, and the clock ticking away, not helping to alleviate the uneasiness of the waiting person.
Ramil exhaled a frustrated breath. He sat and waited for a while until he heard the footsteps of his father approaching this way. Rachata looked at his son, but he didn't intend to soften or say anything.
Being older, Rachata seemed indifferent, before the tall girl disappeared into the princess's room. This made the young prince feel a little lost. This time, Ramil didn't think about maintaining etiquette, he swiftly walked toward the bedroom door of the person who was his father and pushed it open, without waiting to hear the announcement from the small speaker outside the room like every time.
“I know everything already.”
Rachata remained calm and composed. He raised his hand slightly, signaling for all the palace ladies-in-waiting to leave the room and separate.
“What else did I do?” The utmost frustration did not shake even a little with the arrival of the son and the storm of emotions. Middle-aged men peered curiously at Ramil before realizing that the young man's mood was no different from the previous time they had exchanged words.
It seemed like a scene from a recurring film, as the atmosphere did not differ from when Ramil came seeking Petai and ended up provoking a similar level of anger.
But beyond that, it may be the eyes that perceive the difference in the father figure every time...
“Using personal money to buy fencers, this is playing outside the rules.”
The short, twisting sentence did not make Rachata stop listening. The room owner walked past to his work desk, sat down, and glanced at his son with an indifferent expression.
“And then?”
“And then? What are you doing, father? Do you know what you are doing?” Ramil's voice was filled with misunderstanding. His sharp eyes scrutinized the older person like an unfamiliar face he had never seen or met before.
“I know, and so what? Do you know what you are doing, Ramil? If I hadn't bought athletes from the beginning, now you would have lost to Atsawathewathin!” Mentioning the competitors heightened Rachata's suppressed emotions from the beginning.
“...”
Comments
Post a Comment