His. Rules
974 Words
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Chapter 2 – His Rules
The next morning started before dawn. Krit was already outside my door, standing like a statue — calm, precise, unreadable.
Sometimes I wondered if he ever slept.
“Morning,” I said, still rubbing my eyes.
“Good morning, Mr. Lin.”
“I told you to stop calling me that.”
He looked straight ahead. “Habit.”
I sighed. “Fine. Keep your habits. But at least take off that expression — you look like you’re attending a funeral.”
No reaction. Not even a twitch of his mouth.
I gave up. Krit wasn’t one of those people you could tease into comfort. He was a wall — polite, disciplined, and impossible to break.
Still, something in me kept trying. Maybe I just wanted to see if I could make him feel something.
---
The day dragged on with interviews and rehearsals. Krit followed me everywhere, quiet but always close.
At first, I thought it would bother me — the constant presence — but now it felt strange when he wasn’t there.
Every time I turned around, he was already watching.
Not with judgment… but with focus, like his world existed only within my orbit.
At one point, while waiting backstage, I asked, “Do you ever think this job is boring?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Protecting someone’s life isn’t boring.”
“That’s not what I meant. I mean… following me around all day. Standing, watching, waiting.”
His gaze softened for the first time. “You underestimate how unpredictable your life is.”
I laughed. “You make me sound like a walking disaster.”
He didn’t respond, but his lips curved slightly — just barely.
That tiny, hidden smile hit harder than it should’ve.
---
After my last rehearsal, I sat on the floor of the dressing room, exhausted. Krit leaned against the wall, scrolling through something on his phone.
“I could help you pack,” he offered.
I glanced up. “You? Pack clothes? That doesn’t fit your ‘professional bodyguard’ image.”
He tilted his head. “I’ve done worse.”
“Oh? Like what?”
His eyes flickered with amusement. “Carried drunk actors out of bars. Fought off crazy fans. Hid someone in a trash truck once.”
I laughed so hard I almost dropped my water bottle. “You’re kidding!”
He didn’t laugh. “No.”
That only made me laugh harder. He was so serious, it was ridiculous.
But that’s what I liked about him — the quiet strength, the dry humor he didn’t even realize he had.
---
Later that evening, the air outside felt heavy. We exited through the back door of the studio, where the car waited. A few fans were gathered near the entrance, their cameras flashing the second they spotted me.
Krit’s hand immediately went to my arm, guiding me forward.
“Keep walking,” he said firmly, his voice low.
The shouts grew louder.
“Lin Yue! Over here!”
“Look this way!”
“Is that your bodyguard?!”
I tried to smile, but one of the fans pushed closer. A camera hit my shoulder.
Before I could react, Krit stepped between us, shielding me completely. His arm was solid and warm across my chest, holding me back with gentle force.
“Back off,” he said sharply.
The tone — calm but commanding — made even the loudest fans freeze for a moment.
I looked up at him, my heart pounding.
He wasn’t even angry. He was just… focused.
And for a second, I felt something I hadn’t felt in a long time.
Safe.
---
When we finally got into the car, the silence stretched.
I turned to him. “You didn’t have to do that so roughly.”
He gave me a side glance. “You were about to get hurt.”
“I’m used to that.”
He looked at me for a long second before replying quietly, “You shouldn’t have to be.”
I didn’t know what to say after that. So I just sat there, staring out the window, pretending not to notice the way his reflection watched me from the glass.
---
Later that night, I couldn’t sleep.
I got up, walked to the balcony, and looked out over the city. It was quiet, but the flashing lights below still reminded me of those cameras, those eyes that never stopped following me.
The sliding door opened behind me. “You shouldn’t be out here alone.”
I turned, surprised to see Krit standing there, his hair slightly messy — the first time I’d ever seen him look human.
“Are you always this serious?” I asked softly.
“Only when it comes to you.”
That answer… it hit somewhere deep.
I looked away. “You really don’t rest, do you?”
He took a few steps closer, the space between us shrinking. “I rest when I know you’re safe.”
The words were simple, but they felt like a promise.
A quiet, dangerous promise.
I smiled weakly. “You’ll make me start thinking you care about me, Krit.”
He didn’t smile back this time.
Instead, his eyes softened. “Maybe I do.”
For a moment, the air between us changed — heavy, warm, electric.
If I moved even an inch, I could feel his breath against my skin.
But before I could say anything, he stepped back. “Get some sleep.”
And just like that, the moment was gone.
---
That night, as I lay in bed, I replayed his words again and again.
Maybe I do.
He wasn’t supposed to care.
He wasn’t supposed to feel.
But I did.
And I knew… something was starting that neither of us could stop.
- Writer
