Chapter Text
BETWEEN US
The rain hadn’t stopped for three days.
Bangkok’s sky bled silver, the air thick with incense and rot.
In the dim room, the only sound was the ticking clock —
and the shallow breath of the man lying in the hospital bed.
Singha stood beside him, unmoving.
Eight years.
Eight years of chasing ghosts,
of searching for a heartbeat he once called his own.
Now that heartbeat existed again, faint and fragile —
trapped inside a body that refused to wake.
“Charlie…” he whispered, the name barely leaving his lips.
The syllables felt sacred, forbidden,
as if saying it too loud would break whatever fragile miracle kept the man alive.
But it wasn’t just him in this room anymore.
Singha felt it — the air bending, cold fingers brushing his shoulder.
A voice came from behind.
Soft, familiar. “P'Singha...”
He turned.
Thup stood in the doorway, eyes wide with something between fear and tenderness.
There was incense smoke clinging to his skin,
and that same strange glow that always surrounded him when he was near the dead.
Singha’s voice cracked.
“You see him too, don’t you?”
Thup nodded once. “He’s been here all along.”
And then—
from the corner of the room,
a whisper, quiet and trembling,
the sound of a soul remembering love:
“Babe..”
The rain began the moment the ceremony ended.
Not harsh, but tender — a silver veil falling over the temple courtyard.
Guests had left; incense still lingered in the air, heavy with jasmine and candle smoke.
Only Singha and Thup remained beneath the altar lights, their white suits glowing faintly against the dusk.
“Before we go,” Singha murmured, reaching into his jacket, “I have something for you.”
He opened a small wooden box. Inside lay a silver chain wound around a small red cloth pouch.
Thup froze. “You found it…”
Singha smiled. “It once protected you.”
Thup’s throat tightened. He lifted the charm with trembling fingers.
Warmth pulsed through it — a familiar thrum that reached somewhere deep inside him.
And then he saw him.
At the far end of the altar, a figure stood bathed in faint light.
Charlie...His Guardian Angel
He looked the same as Thup remembered — calm, gentle, smiling through tears.
Their eyes met; emotion surged between them, but Thup said nothing.
He only held the charm closer to his chest and blinked the tears away.
He couldn’t react — not here, not in front of Singha.
When he looked again, the vision was gone.
Only the soft scent of sandalwood remained.
That night, the house was quiet except for the rain.
Thup sat by the window, the charm glinting in his palm.
“I missed you,” he whispered.
And there he was — Charlie, seated on the floor across from him, his presence clear and gentle as moonlight.
“I thought you forgot me,” Charlie said softly.
“Never.” Thup smiled through tears. “I thought you’d left for good.”
“You called me back.” Charlie replied
Thup exhaled, shaky. “You always find a way back to me.”
He began to talk — about the days since Charlie vanished, about the loneliness, the nights at the apartement, his fear of evil spirits since Charlie went missing, the day he met Singha.
Charlie listened in silence, his expression calm but shadowed with grief.
When Thup mentioned the name, Charlie’s smile faltered for just a breath.
Then he looked away, steadying himself.
“You’re happy now,” he said. “That’s what matters.”
Thup tilted his head, teasing gently, “You sound like an old brother blessing me.”
“Maybe that’s all I’m meant to be now,” Charlie murmured, a faint smile hiding the pain in his eyes.
"Charlie..."
Across the room, Singha stirred.
He thought he’d dreamed a voice, but then he heard it again — Thup’s, quiet and sure — and within it, a name he hadn’t spoken aloud in eight years.
Charlie.
His chest tightened.
He rose, padding softly to the doorway. Candlelight flickered against the rain.
Inside, Thup sat by the window, whispering to the dim air, the old charm glowing faintly in his hand.
“Thup?” Singha said gently.
Thup startled. “P'Singha?”
Singha’s voice was careful, fragile. “Were you… talking to someone?”
Thup hesitated.
Charlie stood beside him now, shaking his head slowly, eyes pleading. Don’t.
“I— no,” Thup said finally, forcing a small smile. “I was just thinking.”
Singha took a step closer, uncertain. “I thought I heard a name. Charlie.”
He paused, swallowing hard. “Did you say that? Do you… see a spirit named Charlie here?”
Charlie’s expression crumpled. He turned away, silent tears glimmering as he shook his head again.
Thup’s heart ached. “Why do you ask?” he murmured. “Who is Charlie?”
For a heartbeat, Singha couldn’t speak.
His gaze softened — grief flickering behind it — before he managed a quiet, brittle smile.
“It’s nothing,” he said. “I must’ve imagined it.”
He exhaled, steadying himself. “Come on. You haven’t eaten since wedding.”
His tone gentled. “Let’s get something before we rest.”
Thup nodded, still puzzled, setting the red pouch carefully on the table.
As they walked out, Singha glanced back toward the shadowed corner of the room, eyes distant — as though searching for someone he used to know.
By the window, unseen, Charlie watched them go.
TBC
Hey everyone 🌙
This story is a tester chapter for my upcoming crossover fanfic Between Us, inspired by both PitBabe and Goddess Bless You from Death.
In this universe, Babe and Singha are the same person — a man whose past and present collide when the ghost of his first love returns through the eyes of his new husband.
Chapter 1 is just a glimpse — the full story will officially launch this November.
But before that, I’d love to hear what you want to see happen next 💬
Tell me in the comments:
💞 Who should have the ending?
1️⃣ Babe/Singha × Thup – the living and the light
2️⃣ Babe/Singha × Charlie – the past that never died
3️⃣ Charlie × Thup – the bridge between worlds
4️⃣ All three – because some loves can’t exist alone (But can Babe/Singha handle 2 little husbands?)
Your choice might shape how the final story unfolds 👀💔
Thank you for reading — and for keeping their love alive, between us.