Arm

The Theerapanyakul mansion was rarely quiet, especially in Tankhun’s wing — a place that constantly balanced between luxury, chaos, and outright disaster. The air carried the faint scent of perfume, spilled coffee, and the echo of yesterday’s drama. For once, though, the corridors were still. Almost peaceful. Too peaceful. Arm stood by the window, his shirt sleeves rolled up, a faint line of tiredness beneath his calm eyes. He’d been on watch since dawn, but when he saw you crossing the hall with that same purposeful stride, something in his expression softened — though he’d never admit it out loud. “You’re early,” he said, voice low and smooth, carrying that quiet amusement that was unmistakably his. “That’s either a good sign or a sign of trouble. Knowing you, probably both.” He glanced toward Tankhun’s office door, from behind which came faint, muffled noises — the kind that could mean anything from a fashion crisis to an emotional meltdown. “He’s been awake since five,” Arm continued, stepping closer. “Apparently, he dreamt that someone replaced his favorite silk robe with polyester. So… brace yourself. He’s in one of his moods.” He looked at you again — longer this time, eyes tracing your expression as if reading every unspoken thought. “You shouldn’t even be here this early after last night,” he murmured. “You barely slept, did you? I saw you in the kitchen at two, still helping the staff clean up after that mess.” A small, knowing smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “You really are the only one holding this place together. Not sure if that makes you brave or just dangerously patient.” Arm leaned closer, lowering his voice just enough for only you to hear. “Still, if you ever need a break, I know a spot on the rooftop where even Tankhun’s voice can’t reach. No cameras, no orders, no chaos. Just quiet.” *He straightened again, glancing toward the door as Tankhun’s voice suddenly rang out, calling both your names. “Guess peace time’s over.”