The next afternoon, in Bangkok, Bo was making his way back to his apartment with two bags of delivered food. His stomach was growling, and he was looking forward to lunch. He had already settled Anan on the couch and set up a small table they have been using for his meals. It was a bit hard for him to get used to having a roommate, but over time he started to appreciate Anan's company and was glad to be able to help a friend. Anan was very grateful for the favor and seemed to be getting better with each passing day. After a check-up scheduled for midweek, it was likely that he would be able to move around with crutches again. Bo was trying to persuade him to stay another week, but Anan insisted that Bo take him home if the check-up went well.

"You know what I was thinking?" he began as Bo entered the room and placed the bags on the kitchen table.

"Hmm... you were thinking it would be great if I had picked up some cold beers while I was out getting the food?" Bo guessed, pulling warm carton containers out of the bags.

"I didn't even think of that! Did you?" Anan sat up and stretched his neck glancing at the kitchen table.

Bo laughed, pulling out frosty cans from the bag and handing one over to Anan.

"I'll be repaying you for years for everything you have done for me over these past few weeks," Anan continued thoughtfully, opening his can. "But I have an idea that you might like."

"I'm listening," Bo said, placing a tray with a cardboard box of Chinese noodles and wooden chopsticks in front of Anan. He returned to the kitchen table and sat down, opening his box of Kung Pao chicken. He missed food from home, that's why they decided to try a new Chinese restaurant that had top ratings on the Grab app. The smell rising up from the box was promising.

Anan was already munching on his first bites and nodding with satisfaction. "This isn't bad. What do you think?"

Bo swallowed, paused for a moment and then bobbed his head. "You can tell the owner is Chinese. It hits the spot. So you had an idea?" he asked, as he deftly popped another bite into his mouth.

"You know how you said you wanted to know more about Sak Yant tattoos?"

Bo was indeed fascinated with them. He didn't know much, but his foreign clients were especially interested. His studio refused to do Sak Yant tattoos because he didn't want to be part of the usual scam. They could copy the designs from the internet and make a good profit, but he didn't like deceiving people. He knew that real Sak Yant tattoos were made meaningful by rituals and special blessings. True masters could read the ancient Khom language and tailored the tattoos to the recipient's needs. He liked it when a tattoo had a special meaning, a bit more than when someone only wanted to decorate their body. He had nothing against that either, but it seemed simpler to do that with clothing.

"It would be great to meet a true master. What are they called again, Ajrans? "

"Ajran, or Ajhan actually just means master, it doesn't only relate to Sak Yant," Anan explained. "Anyway, you're in luck, my friend, because I've got the right connection and can take you to one of the best studios in Bangkok as soon as I can sit on a motorbike," Anan said triumphantly, taking a long sip from his can.

"No way. Awesome! How did you get the contact? Who is it? How long have they been practicing it?"

Bo could have gone to a Sak Yant studio himself, but going to a trusted place with someone who spoke Thai was something else entirely. He wasn't planning on getting a tattoo; there was very little bare skin left on his body, but he was interested in the tradition and wanted to learn from true masters of the craft.

"It's a friend of a friend. He agreed to host us for a few hours and show us all the equipment, explain the meaning of various tattoos, and the process they go through when a customer comes in. Then he'll tattoo us if we want. I definitely want one. You can think about it."

Bo was momentarily speechless. "That sounds amazing. You need to get better as soon as possible, I'm really looking forward to it," Bo said, munching contentedly. "Thanks, man."

"Don't mention it." Anan took another bite of his food. "So, how come I'm not hearing anything about yesterday? Don't make me fish out all the details, you came back quite late. Did you all go to Funky Donkey?"

Bo had returned at four in the morning, and he allowed himself to sleep in. He had stocked the fridge for Anan the day before, knowing he'd manage for breakfast, so he wasn't too worried. As a result, lunch was Bo's first meal of the day.

"It was great, Chompoo is really good at organizing road trips. We didn't go to Funky Donkey though. After bungee jumping, she took us to a restaurant where she seemed to know all the chefs and waiters. They took very good care of us. The food was amazing. After dinner we went to a rooftop party. Live music, cozy atmosphere. I liked it."

"Nice, and how about Nina, did she like it as well?" Anan asked, raising his eyebrow meaningfully, then returning to his noodles. Bo laughed.

"Funny you should ask," he replied. "You can ask her yourself; she insisted on coming over on Tuesday to cook us dinner."

"Really? A Mediterranean dish? Awesome. How did I deserve it? Everyone pampers me, cooks for me, and brings deliveries. I'm indebted to you all for life," he said, stuffing an especially large piece of mushroom into his mouth. "Hey, I hope I'm not in your way. Did you guys want privacy?" he suddenly looked worried.

Bo laughed it off. "It's just dinner. Nina wants to do this for you, I guess she feels sorry you've mostly been eating take out for weeks. Maybe she likes you?" Bo teased, even though he knew what he implied wasn't probable.

Not after that kiss yesterday. Not after the way they danced together later. Nina spent the evening focused mainly on her friend Emmi, who – as he found out – was leaving soon. At one point though, he did manage to steal her away for a short while. Short, yet long enough to completely turn his head. He remembered how she felt leaning into him in her pretty dress. It was hard to keep his hands in appropriate places, but they had an audience, and Bo didn't want to attract attention. If they had been alone, he would have taken her to a dark corner and probably wouldn't have restrained himself as much. Maybe it was good they hadn't though. His hunger for her body was far too great for public places. Still, he didn't get nearly enough of her, and those few stolen moments affected him like a piece of candy affects someone who missed a meal. It raises your blood sugar level for a short while, but when it returns down and crashes, it leaves behind a hunger nearly impossible to endure.

When they finished lunch, Bo recycled the empty containers and, after making sure Anan was comfortably tucked in with his favorite TV show on, he went out.

It was a little past four in the afternoon, and the sun had started to set. He was itching for a good running session to clear his head. Scenes from the previous night kept flooding his mind ever since he woke up, but as the day wore on, doubt slowly crept in as well. As he made his way to the garage, a bickering started in his head between the rational part of his mind and his desire.

Do you even know what you're actually doing? The rational voice questioned. Nina isn't the kind of girl who will be okay with hooking up a few times and then you each go your separate ways.

But why does it have to end that way? protested his more impulsive side, focused solely on the chase.

Because it always does, the rational side concluded coldly.

It kept going like that during his bike ride. He didn't even remember how he got there, but his next conscious moment, he was parking his motorbike at the entrance to Bang Kachao Park. Getting off the bike, he swung his arms a few times to warm up and shake off the stiffness from his body. He tightened his shoelaces.

Shouldn't you have thought about all this before you kissed her? reason nagged.

He started a light jog as he had developed a mild headache. The humidity and the alcohol consumed the previous night weren't helping either, but soon he found a rhythm. After a few kilometers, he felt his limbs become more nimble, and despite heavy breathing, he began to enjoy the run.

But the voices in his head weren't going to be silenced by a casual jog.

Maybe he could see himself with Nina long term. Why not? She has her job, he has his. He loved watching her work. Besides, he often spends weeks in Chengdu; they wouldn't necessarily be spending that much time together. The fight went on inside his head.

And you think she would be okay with that? the rational voice needled. Sooner or later, she would want you to live together. Be together. All - the - time.

Whoah, live together, maybe we don't need to think that far into the future. Let's live in the now, enjoy what we have, nothing lasts forever.

Oh really, is that what you're going to tell her next time she asks when about you going back to China? The rational voice was ruthless. Besides, why do you even see all this as a sure thing? Maybe she just got a little drunk and doesn't like you that much. 

Bo burst into a sprint. It was all a bit too much, and he couldn't believe how his mood had soured in just one day. The day before, everything seemed possible and so easy, natural; today, when he looked at things more soberly, he realized how many obstacles stood in his way. 

He remembered a time when, while working with Nina at Z-coffee, she explained what his name meant in Croatian.

"It's a very short way of letting others know you don't have a clue about something."

"What do you mean?" He didn't quite get it.

"For example, if someone were to ask you, 'Now what?' and you didn't know, you would say, 'Bo.'"

"Just Bo?" he laughed.

"Just Bo," she smiled. That particular smile had etched itself into his memory. The sun had been descending, enveloping the café in a honey-colored hue. They had just finished a feature they had struggled with for days and were both basking in the afterglow that success.

Bo's mother had explained the origin of his name, inspired by ocean waves—his parents wished him to be adaptable, like water. But right now, Bo felt the Croatian meaning described his condition and character much better.

Maybe it would be wiser to keep the friendship, the only type of relationship that had worked in his life anyway. Women were here one day, gone the next; even when they tried to stay. Bo always found a way to kindly but firmly let them know he wasn't the prince charming they wanted him to be. He had never met anyone he wanted to stick around for more than one night.

He came to a halt on a small bridge crossing a canal. The sun had set even lower, basking the jungle in pastel tones. It was his favorite part of the day. He leaned against the railing of the bridge and stared at a lotus plant, its broad leaf cradling a delicate flower that floated elegantly on the water's surface. He tried to remember the moment he stopped seeing Nina as just a business partner and started wanting something more. The first time they met, he merely considered her cute. She was dressed in shapeless clothes that did nothing to highlight her features, though he did remember thinking she had pretty eyes.

When they started working together, his respect for her grew as he came to admire her work ethic and sense of innovation. He loved every design detail she suggested and more than once thought she might have a talent for tattoos. Being around her was comfortable, almost effortless.

Then she came to the studio opening looking stunning. He remembered how surprised he was when he saw her and the strange warmth that spread through his stomach when he leaned in to kiss her hello. After she got drunk and he drove her home, he never thought of taking advantage of the situation, even though he got a bit aroused holding her in the elevator as she leaned on him and stroked his back. But all that was breadcrumbs compared to what happened in Pattaya. She had completely won him over when she decided to trust him and let him lead her into that jump. He couldn't remember the last time someone had entrusted their decision to him so completely. How did he deserve that trust? And did she give it as easily to everyone she knew? Somehow he doubted it. The idea that Nina valued his judgment made him feel confident.

The situation in his head was no clearer when he returned home. He shared another meal with Anan in silence while they watched the German film "Das Boot." For some reason, Anan had developed a fascination with submarines lately. The claustrophobic atmosphere of the film wasn't exactly conducive to a good night's sleep, and he tossed and turned in bed for a long time after lying down. He felt like he had to make a decision that would change the course of his life, and instinctively wanted to run away from it. 

When he finally fell asleep, his subconscious decided to unleash its deepest depths. He dreamed of monsters lurking beneath a turbulent sea. He was floating in the middle of the ocean while lightning thundered across the night sky.