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If anyone asked her, Runch wouldn't be able to say how she ended up in this situation. But looking back, she knew exactly how she'd ended up in this situation.
And really, no one could blame her.
"You didn't need to buy that," Runch grumbles, eyeing the boutique bag hanging off Neen's arm like it's a ticking bomb.
"I know I didn't need to," Neen replies breezily, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she strolls through the mall like she owns the whole place, which technically, isn't that far from the truth, seeing as her family owns half the commercial developments in the city. "I wanted to."
"N’Neen, that's a designer dress. It cost more than I make in months."
"So what?" Neen stops walking and turns to face her girlfriend with a genuinely puzzled expression, as if the concept of worrying about money were too abstract to process. "I have the money. You look gorgeous in that dress. Where's the problem?"
The problem, Runch thinks, is that she grew up in a house where every cent was counted, where her mother did the math on a calculator before any purchase, where want and can afford rarely showed up in the same sentence. And now she's dating someone for whom those two ideas are practically synonyms.
"The problem is I don't know how to pay you back for this," Runch admits quietly.
Hearing that, Neen steps closer, cupping Runch's face in her hands with a gentleness that contrasts with the confidence of seconds ago. "You don't have to pay me back for anything. I'm not buying your love, darling. I just like seeing you happy."
Runch doesn't know how to respond to that, so she just lets Neen kiss her right there, in the middle of the mall corridor, ignoring the curious glances of passersby.
And moments like that had become the new normal of Runch's life ever since she agreed to date Neen Pheeracha Phacharathakun. The class difference between them is obvious — Neen is someone who was born into money, and she isn't ashamed to show it, unlike Runch, who, even with a stable job, still saves every bit of her income in case something ever runs short.
Early in the relationship, that used to bother Runch enough that she thought she wouldn't be able to date someone like Neen. But at the same time, she didn't have the willpower to resist the youngest Phacharathakun heiress's charm, so it was a losing battle from the start.
And that's how the chain of dominoes began, the one that changed the way Runch saw herself.
/////
Over the following months, Runch learns to live with it.
Neen pays for dinner without even glancing at the bill. Neen sends a private driver to pick up Runch when it rains. Neen shows up with gifts for no reason beyond I saw this and thought of you and Runch learns to say thank you without arguing, even if that uncomfortable little voice in the back of her head never fully goes away.
What Runch doesn't expect is the day that discomfort starts turning into something else.
It's an ordinary evening, dinner at a restaurant too fancy for Runch's taste, all white marble and waiters who seem to have memorized an etiquette manual before they were even born. Neen sits across from her, flipping through the wine list like it's just any old catalog, and when the sommelier hesitantly approaches to suggest something more reasonably priced, Neen simply raises her hand. "Bring the Château on the last page," she says, without looking up from the menu, "the whole bottle."
The sommelier swallows hard and hurries off to fetch the most expensive bottle on the list. Runch feels her face heat up, but it isn't embarrassment this time. It's something warmer, something harder to admit, settling low in her stomach as she watches her girlfriend handle a small fortune like pocket change.
"P’Runch, you okay?" Neen asks, noticing the strange look on her face. "Your face is all red."
"I'm fine," Runch murmurs, taking a sip of ice water as if that could do anything about the heat climbing up her neck. Because even Runch couldn't explain why she was feeling this way.
But that didn't stop her from showing her gratitude for the expensive dinner by climbing into Neen's lap in the backseat of the car on the ride home.
/////
The pattern keeps repeating, and every time, Runch notices the same strange reaction building inside her. There's the day Neen rents out an entire restaurant just because she wanted to have dinner without being bothered. There's the night she leaves a tip equal to a month of a waiter's salary just because he was "particularly sweet." There's the afternoon she decides, out of nowhere, to buy an entire painting from an art gallery because it "matched Runch’s apartment," without even asking the price.
And every single time, Runch has the same reaction, a heat rising through her body without warning, and an inexplicable urge to keep watching Neen treat her to nice things, and in return, to repay her in the best way she knows how.
"Do you do this on purpose?" Runch asks one day, the two of them sitting on the terrace of Neen's penthouse, an apartment that possibly cost more than Runch's entire annual salary.
"Do what?" Neen asks, pouring herself another glass of wine.
"Spend this much. Right in front of me."
Neen shrugs, a faintly smug smile playing on her lips. "I don't hide who I am, P’Runch. I'm rich and I like to spend. Does that bother you?"
"No," Runch answers too quickly, and Neen's expression shifts instantly, curiosity replacing the nonchalance from a second ago.
"If it doesn't bother you," Neen repeats slowly, as if testing the words, "then do you like it?"
Runch doesn't answer, but her silence says more than any words could. And Neen just keeps watching her with that look — the look of someone who always gets exactly what she wants.
/////
The first time Runch truly realizes what's happening is at a jewelry store.
Neen decided, with no warning, that Runch needed a new pair of earrings. Not because it was a birthday, not because there was any special occasion, just because she saw the display case and thought it would match her girlfriend's eyes. The saleswoman brings out three different options, each pricier than the last, and Neen doesn't even bother asking about cost before choosing the final one. "That one," she decides, pointing at the diamond earrings glittering under the store lights like tiny stars trapped in white gold. "She'll wear them out today."
"N’Neen, that's—" Runch starts, but the sentence dies in her throat when Neen turns to her with that look, confident, determined, not a shred of doubt that this is exactly what she wants to do. A look that always leaves Runch weak in the knees.
"I know what it is," Neen replies, handing the black card to the saleswoman without so much as glancing at the total on the machine's screen. "It's a gift. For the most beautiful girlfriend in the world."
The saleswoman processes the payment, and Runch watches the whole scene unfold with a strange sensation settling between her legs, a heat she recognizes, but never before associated with something as simple as watching her girlfriend spend money without blinking.
She crosses her legs discreetly, trying to ignore her own reaction, but when Neen turns and fastens the new earrings into her ears with careful fingers, whispering "these look perfect on you" Runch feels her whole body react in a way that has nothing to do with shyness.
That night, in the car on the way home, Runch stays quiet, watching the new earrings catch the light every time they pass a streetlamp.
"You've been acting strange since the store," Neen comments, eyes on the road. "Did I do something wrong?"
"No," Runch answers, and then, before she can stop herself, "you did everything right."
Neen frowns, confused, but doesn't push the subject further, at least not that night.
Runch, on the other hand, spends the whole night turning over what she felt in that jewelry store. She'd always known she was drawn to Neen's confidence, to the way she moved through the world as if nothing could touch her. But she'd never connected the dots between that confidence and the money that fuels it, not until she realizes she might not be able to separate the two anymore.
She thinks about it over breakfast. Thinks about it at work, distracted, when she should be reviewing the case file in front of her. Thinks about it that night, when Neen texts to say she's booked out another entire restaurant for their dating anniversary dinner, "because you deserve the best, darling." Runch reads the message three times, and each time, feels that same familiar heat spreading through her body.
/////
The dating anniversary dinner confirms everything Runch had been trying to deny to herself.
The restaurant is empty except for the two of them and the staff hired to serve their table exclusively. Candles are scattered across the whole room, a jazz band plays softly in a corner, and a custom menu that Neen ordered weeks ago without ever mentioning it to Runch.
"This must have cost a fortune," Runch whispers, glancing around.
"Probably," Neen agrees, not the least bit concerned. "But you're worth every cent."
Runch feels her cheeks heat up, but this time she doesn't try to hide the reaction, or rather, she can't hide it quite as well as she'd like.
When the waiter approaches to pour the wine and Neen waves him off with a casual gesture, saying "I'll pour it myself, thank you," there's something about the calm authority in the gesture that makes Runch cross her legs under the table again.
"You did it again," Neen observes, filling their glasses with a composure that only makes Runch feel more exposed.
"Did what?"
"That thing where you cross your legs." Neen tilts her head, a slow smile forming on her lips as she finally connects the dots she's been noticing for weeks. "You do that every time I spend money around you in some way."
Runch's heart starts racing. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Oh, I think you know exactly what I'm talking about." Neen leans forward, elbows on the table, eyes glinting with a playful curiosity Runch has never seen in her before. "You get turned on when I spend money, don't you?"
The silence that follows is answer enough. Runch feels cornered, looking anywhere but at Neen, who doesn't take her eyes off her, just waiting, always waiting, because she knows her girlfriend well enough to know it only takes a little patience before Runch spills everything she's been holding in.
"I don't know when it started," Runch finally admits, voice low, fingers gripping the wine glass too tightly. "At first it bothered me, you spending money . Genuinely bothered me, you know that."
"I know," Neen agrees, no judgment in her voice, just genuine curiosity.
"But at some point it stopped bothering me. And then... then it turned into something else." Runch forces herself to meet Neen's eyes, face on fire. "You just being you. Rich without apologizing for it. Spending what you want, when you want, without caring what anyone thinks. It makes me..."
"Turned on," Neen finishes for her, the words coming out as a warm whisper across the table.
"Yes," Runch admits, almost a moan of relief at finally saying it out loud.
Neen goes quiet for a moment, processing the confession, and Runch is afraid she's ruined everything, revealed something too strange, too embarrassing. But then a slow, predatory smile spreads across her girlfriend's face, and Runch feels her stomach flip with anticipation. "You know," Neen says, twirling her wine glass between her fingers, "I always tried to hold back a little. Not spend too much, not smother you with gifts, because I was afraid of scaring you off." She leans in closer, her voice dropping to a tone Runch recognizes immediately, the tone Neen uses when she's decided on something completely, no room for argument. "But now that I know you like it... I don't think I'm going to hold back anymore."
They barely finish dinner before Neen calls the private car to take them back to the apartment, her hand warm on Runch's thigh the whole ride, fingers inching up far too slowly to be innocent.
"Do you have any idea how long I've wanted to see you like this?" Neen whispers in her ear the moment the apartment door shuts behind them. "So worked up, trying to hide how much you want this."
"N’Neen—" Runch starts, but the sentence dies when Neen gently pushes her against the door, lips finding her neck in a slow, deliberate kiss.
"Let me take care of you," Neen murmurs against her skin, hands sliding along the side of Runch's body, "the way I've always wanted to, without you feeling guilty about it."
Runch nods, unable to form a single coherent word as Neen leads her down the hallway to the bedroom, every step punctuated by kisses and the intoxicating feeling of finally giving up the fight against what she feels.
Neen's bedroom is still exactly as Runch remembers it — silk sheets, a view of the entire city through floor-to-ceiling windows, a closet bigger than Runch's whole apartment. But this time, instead of the usual discomfort, Runch only feels the heat building as Neen lays her down on the bed with an almost reverent care.
"You're mine," Neen whispers, fingers slowly unbuttoning Runch's dress, "and I'm going to give you everything I want to give you. No apologies for it. Do you understand?"
"I understand," Runch breathes, her body already responding to the authority in Neen's voice before her hands even finish undressing her girlfriend. Neen pulls back just enough to slip out of her own dress, revealing lace lingerie that, Runch knows without asking, must have cost more than her month's rent. The thought, instead of bothering her, only makes the heat between her legs more intense.
"These earrings," Neen comments, admiring the jewels still glittering in Runch's ears, "look even better now that I know what they do to you." She leans in, kissing along Runch's collarbone, moving slowly down her body, each kiss paired with a whispered comment about the expensive perfume she had imported just for Runch, about the silk sheets she picked out imagining how they'd feel against her skin, about every expense, every indulgence, every extravagance she's never going to hide again.
"You like this," Neen whispers against the warm skin of Runch's stomach, "you like knowing I can give you anything I want."
Runch just moans, fingers twisting into the silk sheets. That won't do.
"Beg. If you beg, I'll say yes. Use your words, darling. I want to hear it."
"Yes, I like it," Runch confesses, voice trembling, "I like watching you spend on me, I like knowing you do it because you want to, without caring about anything else. Please, N'Neen..."
The sound Neen lets out against her skin is almost a satisfied growl, and she moves lower still, fingers pulling away the last piece of clothing between them with a confidence that makes Runch's entire body arch in anticipation. Neen isn't in any hurry. She explores every inch of Runch like she's just one more prized possession that deserves her full attention, fingers and mouth working together with a dedication that leaves Runch breathless, moans escaping louder and louder as she grips the sheets, Neen's hair, anything to keep herself anchored.
"Look at me," Neen orders, glancing up for a second, and Runch obeys, meeting her girlfriend's intense, satisfied gaze from between her legs. "I want to see your face when I make you come knowing exactly how much I'm capable of giving you."
The comment, combined with what Neen is doing with her mouth and fingers, is enough to push Runch over the edge, her whole body trembling as the climax rolls through her in waves, Neen's name spilling from her lips like a prayer. Neen moves slowly back up her body, kissing every inch along the way, until she finally reaches her lips in a slow, satisfied kiss.
"That was just the start of the night," she whispers, a predatory smile on her lips. "I've got a lot more plans to show you just how much I like spending on you."
/////
The next morning, Runch wakes up tangled in the silk sheets, her body sore in the best kind of way, the diamond earrings still in her ears because neither of them remembered to take them off the night before.
Neen is sitting up in bed beside her, already dressed in a robe that probably cost more than Runch's salary, scrolling through her phone with a focused expression.
"What are you doing?" Runch asks, voice still rough with sleep.
"Buying plane tickets," Neen answers, without looking up, "to Paris, next week. I figured you deserved a trip after admitting you like watching me spend on you." Runch smiles, the old discomfort completely absent for the first time since the relationship began.
"You don't have to do that."
"I know," Neen replies, finally looking up, the same confident smile as always on her lips. "I want to."
And this time, Runch doesn't argue. She just leans in, kisses her girlfriend slowly, and lets the familiar heat settle between her legs again, because now, finally, she's stopped pretending she doesn't like exactly this.
"You know..." Neen begins, before things can escalate again, a playful, teasing tone in her voice. "Now that you've admitted you like watching me spend on you, and I'm going to keep doing it even more, that kind of makes you my sugar baby and me your sugar mommy, right? Even with me being younger and you older."
Runch wanted to disappear. She knew that even though she'd come to terms with the situation pretty well, Neen would never pass up the chance to tease her. "Oh my god, shut up. Don't ever say this again" And grabbing a pillow, Runch threw it right at Neen's face, who was already cracking up at her girlfriend's blushing cheeks.