Interminable

The willowy form who was walking into the classroom stumbled when someone caught his elbow. Fortunately, that person meant no harm, using his own chest to buffer the unprepared body in his embrace.

 

"You!" the boy exclaimed in shock upon seeing who it was.

 

"I'm sorry for startling you." The tall young man's voice was low as he spoke. He watched the smaller one try to pull himself away, then flitted his gaze at that smooth face. "Why did you do that yesterday?"

 

"Do what, sir?" Though he knew exactly what the other was asking about, the boy feigned ignorance.

 

"Yesterday, you ran off from me, leaving me alone with Khun Sophee. How could you?"

 

"Oh, I saw you two seemed to be getting along so well. I thought I shouldn't stay as a third wheel, so I left." The boy replied airily.

 

"To go out with Khun Sophee wasn't what I wanted," the man said.

 

"And?"

"Kaew...

 

"Look, to go out with you wasn't what I wanted as well, sir." The boy shot back. He gazed at that handsome face, though it was his Khun Phra Nai's absolute replica, yet that resemblance wasn't enough to make him want to lay his eyes on the man.

 

"You said you'd give me a chance." The beautiful professor protested.

 

"You only asked me to dine and visit Wang Burapha with you, sir. You never mentioned anything about 'chance.” The young professor stood speechless at this counter. Drawing a deep breath, he said;

 

"So, you're the one who broke your promise first, Kaewta." With that, the young professor veered off and walked away. Before the boy could grasp the meaning, the other's rear had gone out of sight. From that day, fate never allowed him to cross paths with this new art professor again.

 

Kaewta brooded over; Arjan Prem had promised not to draw the White Manor without his permission, and he had to have lunch with the other person for an exchange. But since he'd fled back early and caused such resentment, he couldn't tell if the new teacher would still honour that promise.

 

He couldn't explain why he was so opposed to the idea of anyone drawing the White Manor... It wasn't out of possessiveness; he simply didn't want this, the mirror image of Khun Phra Nai, as if casting from the same mould, to draw it. Kaewta knew for sure the man wasn't Khun Phra Nai. However perfect the resemblance, the man wasn't him. Kaewta felt protective of this place of his own and Khun Phra Nai's sanctuary, meant only for them both.

 

Kaewta gazed up at the stately White Manor, breaking into a wide smile when he caught sight of someone on the upper balcony.

 

"You're here early today." A rich voice spoke beside him. However, the boy wasn't startled like before, for he knew Khun Phra Nai always materialised on his left.

 

"Classes finished early, sir." The boy replied, walking toward the vine-draped gazebo.

 

"So, Khun Chai and your mother still forbid you to come to the White Manor alone, do they?" The ethereal figure dropped down beside him.

 

"I snuck out." He turned to look at the form beside him.

 

Khun Phra Nai wasn't entirely see-through, yet was hardly intangible either. The young one raised his hand, aiming to stroke that face. Those arresting, melancholy eyes met his gaze. No retreat, just a soft, warming smile in return. Kaewta absorbed the scene; his mind went back to the book he'd recently borrowed from the library, Shakuntala.

 

Ethereal skin that dims the jasmine's gleam,

Eyes outshine the timid deer's moonlit dream;

Her presence commands the vast world's throne,

Beauty enthroned, unrivalled, ever all her own.

Beauteous lips curl like young emerald leaves.

Beauteous arms sway, sculpted by soft eves.

Beauteous figure gleams with heaven's calm hue.

Beauteous bloom eclipses every flower in view.

 

"Kaew wants to..." to touch Khun Yai.

 

"Hmm?" The gorgeous face raised an eyebrow at the words. His heart raced at the way the other person addressed him.. like those bygone days...

 

"You've been hiding here, indeed." The boy jolted and whirled to look behind him. His eyes widened at the picture-Arjan Prem!

 

"You!" Kaewta sprang to his feet as he instinctively became a living shield between Khun Phra Nai and the approaching teacher.

 

"I knew that you were here. And who are you with?"He asked, smiling at the person before him's peculiar behaviour.

 

"Um..." The boy didn't answer, still using his body to conceal the presence behind.

 

"What are you hiding from me?" The young teacher asked, stepping closer. Kaew's small frame shifted accordingly, which drew a big grin from him. He tried to peek at what the young man was concealing, and his eyes widened.

 

"There's nothing at all."He said.

 

"Huh?" The small figure lowered his arms as he swivelled back to look. Khun Yai remained exactly where he had been...with Arjan Prem's prominent nose hovering nearby. The new professor tried to see what Kaew wanted to keep him away. Apart from the void, there was nothing else.

 

"There's nothing but emptiness."

 

Silence was Kaewta's answer. His delicate brows drew together as he took in the scene-the weight of sorrow churning in his chest at the image of Khun Phra Nai motionless, and Arjan Prem with a puzzled face, standing side by side...

There was hardly any difference between them, yet he knew they weren't the same, could never be.

 

"Did you come here alone?" The young teacher asked.

"And why did you come to this house?" The boy asked back.

 

"No particular reason." The response earned him a suspicious look from the small one. The hostility in those eyes was undisguised. 

 

"Truthfully, I just wanted to have a look at this house, that's all," the young teacher finally surrendered.

"Have a look for what?" The sweet voice was curt.

 

"Why are you so protective of this house?" The young man sighed. He'd only meant to tease, but obviously, his companion wasn't in the mood.

 

"Nothing."

 

"Are you hiding something in the white house that you don't want me to see?"

 

"Sir!" Kaewta's jerking manner made him scan their surroundings.

 

"There's no one here, right? So why are you being so protective?" The man said as he stepped out from the vine-covered alcove and then walked toward the White Manor ahead. The boy rushed after him, spreading his arms to block the way.

 

"There's nothing in the White Manor for you to see."

 

"Why wouldn't you? Look at this house. All white... such an intricate design. Whoever built it must have loved this house dearly. The architecture is stunning, absolutely breathtaking, I'd say. And that tree over there-I don't know its name, but its flowers are very fragrant." He pointed to the white champaka tree at the corner of the house and the ilang-ilang arbour by the waterside pavilion. "Oh, that small house over there looks lovely too." The man turned toward the dance practice house, making as if to walk that way. Kaewta grabbed the teacher's arm in panic.

 

"Hey! This is my house! You have no right to wander around peeping like this!"

 

"Oh, your house? If you're so protective, why don't you live here then? I know you're staying at Ruedee's house now. It's not like the white house isn't too old to live in." He watched the boy's complexion now drain to parchment, those willow-shaped eyes refusing to meet his.

 

"I have my reasons."

"I'll stop prying then if you don't want to share."

 

"Eh?" Kaew looked up at him.

 

"I just don't understand why you won't let me draw this house. I'm not planning to build a replica of the white house. As I said, this house is magnificent, so I want to draw it." The young teacher reasoned. His smile held nothing but sincerity. "Above all else, I'd like to get to know you better. Now that I  know you own this house, it makes me want to draw it even more, both the white house and you."

 

Kaewta didn't answer. The boy's gaze lingered on him momentarily before drifting to the second-story balcony. That gossamer light flickered. Eyes heavy with sorrow met his before dissolving into the air, leaving only a gentle scent of Champaka blossoms floating by.

 

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"Kaew knows you're around here, Khun Yai." The velvety, husky voice spoke softly. He stood still by the window, gazing through the darkness of the night without focusing on any particular point. The boy perked up, listening to the faint sounds approaching from behind.

 

"Why are you angry at me?" The deep, soothing voice whispered.

 

"I'm angry that Khun Yai thinks that way."

"Do you know what I'm thinking?"

 

"Will Khun Yai tell me what you're thinking then?" Kaewta remained still with arms crossed. The young man sighed when it seemed the other wouldn't answer. "What are you afraid of?" Kaewta turned to look at the slender figure standing behind him with a worrisome expression.

 

‘I should be afraid when he and I are lookalikes to this extent."

 

"He's not Khun Yai!" The boy burst out, protesting that sentence. "Don't you trust Kaew?!" The sweet whisper was indignant as those narrow pair of eyes stared at the taller person insistently.

 

"My apologies. Kaewta, don't take offence at me. I have no corporeal form, as you know."

 

"But Khun Yai is right here in front of me!" Kaewta grasped at the cold, vacant air before him. The owner of the rueful eyes watched this scene with a strangled smile. 

 

Recently, he could touch and feel the small form. But Kaewta did not know, had never known that he could. The gentleman raised his arms to embrace the small figure, but he, however, wasn't able to touch...Perhaps, his time was running short...

"He's not you. So, whether he possesses form or not, Kaew doesn't care." Kaewta raised his arms to return the embrace. Though he knew it was akin to embracing the void, he still wished the other to see that he, too, wanted to hold the other like this.

 

"I love Kaewta... love you so dearly."

 

Tears fell from the exquisite eyes. What would he do when that time arrived?

Should he obstinately remain here, yet unable to touch his beloved, or disappear completely, succumb to fate's design?

 

The young man raised his hand to his chin as other slender fingers spun a pencil and then set it down. What he had seen at the white house this evening drew a sigh out of him; he had visited there only to have a look, had no intention to enter at first, but because he saw a familiar rear swaying into the house, he followed unconsciously.

 

He saw Kaewta standing, watching the house and smiling. Those bright-hued lips mouthed in speech with contentment, though those words were inaudible. He followed further to the vine-clad bower and found the boy sitting down. That bright face was now tinted with a lovely blush on smooth, enticing cheeks while those lips continued their discourse.

 

‘I snuck here.' 

'Kaew wants...'

 

He heard these sentences, but who was Kaewta speaking to? Not to mention that yearning, wanting-to-touch demeanour, too. But to whom? What was he doing when there was not even a soul present!?

 

'There's nothing at all.

'Eh?'

 

When he uttered that sentence, Kaewta looked up. Yes...The boy seemed to look at him, but he didn't. That gaze looked right through. A woeful shadow immediately clouded the alluring, tapering eyes of the boy. Worse still, before leaving, he had told Kaewta that he wanted to sketch the white house and get to know him better. The boy gazed upward to the second-floor balcony. He followed the gaze, and only emptiness was there to see in his sight. But in Kaewta's sight, what was there?

...To cause that pretty face to fall so low?

 

There must be something in that white house. Why didn't Kaewta stay in that house when he was so possessive of it? Let alone Kaewta's strange behaviour today. He must find out!

 

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The sound of scribbling pencil strokes drifted out, causing the newcomer to halt in curiosity about what the person inside the room was doing. Thus, he slowly leaned against the wall before craning their neck to peek inside. And what they wished to see appeared before their eyes.

 

"Is that a portrait of me?"

 

"Khun Yai!" The owner of the white hands holding the pencil startled violently, trying with all his might to shift his body to block the drawing from view. However, it was too late; the tall figure had already dodged aside and reached out to snatch the drawing board into his hands.

 

"Tell me first, is it a portrait of me or not?" 

 

The young man raised his arm high when the smaller one jumped, trying to snatch it back. Seeing the futility of the effort, he stood still, glancing at the handsome face with a thoroughly sulky expression.

 

"It's not, sir!"

 

"Is that so? Then why does the person in the picture look very much alike?"

 

"I don't see any resemblance at all!" The sulking one continued to sulk without cease as he folded his arms in one sharp motion and tossed his head to the other side.

 

"Oh, then it must be that the artist's skill is poor, then?"

 

"Who says so? When I drew it to look remarkably like Khun Yai to this much! Uh!" 

 

The tall figure smiled broadly when he made the lovely one let it slip. The youth, who had just realised what he'd blurted out, was at a loss for words, could only continue displaying his frustration, and stormed away just so.

 

"Why would you be angry at me, Kaewta?" The tall figure trailed while clutching the portrait to himself.

 

"I am not angry!" The mellow voice snapped while that fair face still refused to turn and look at the person behind, contradicting their words so much that the teasing one couldn't help but unfurl a fond grin.

 

"Truly? Then why are your red lips pouting like that? Your white cheeks are blushing, too. And... your ravishing eyes are avoiding mine..." The sorrow that closed the sentence gave pause to the one who had meant to rise in anger, before they wheeled around with suddenness.

 

"Don't use such a tone!"

"Hmm?"

 

"Don't use that sad tone, sir. Kaew doesn't like it."The small one looked up to meet his eyes, stepping closer to the lord master, then his modest hands reached up to touch the finely shaped lips of the person before him. "Don't make that sad voice again, please." It was a plea that stirred the listener's heart. The tall figure smiled, his large hand reaching up to enfold the small hand against his lips, planting a feather-like, soft kiss on the small fingertips.

 

"I won't use that tone anymore." Like a promise bestowed upon the one before him, Khun Phra Nai cast a genteel smile, inclining his head to press a kiss upon the softly rounded tip of that dear nose with a gesture imbued with gentle affection.

 

"Huh! What if someone saw us?" The smaller one scolded softly, though those smooth cheeks grew coloured. The young man couldn't resist leaning down to press his nose and inhale the scent of soft skin once more.

 

"So be it. It's good if they see us, so I can tell others how greatly I love you, Kaewta." The man smiled broadly in response.

 

"That's not good, sir!" The young man protested in a stern voice. "It's not a good matter to declare to others. It'd rather tarnish your reputation." The sweet voice murmured, disheartening the listener. The man sighed and shifted away from the smaller one.

 

"No more, then. Better we cease speaking of this. Are you available today, Little One?" The young man pulled Kaewta back into the residence while setting down the unfinished portrait.

"Yes, sir."

 

"If so, tell Mother Payom today that you'll return a bit late this evening."

 

Not only saying, but the young lord also seized the hat he had bought for the smaller one during their trip to Ayutthaya and placed it upon the other's shapely head.

 

"Where are we going, sir?"

"A secret!" The man smiled but didn't answer.

 

The tall figure escorted Kaewta down to a hired boat. He engaged the youth in an endless conversation until a long time slipped by. The smaller one asked until he grew weary of asking where they were bound, yet the young lord still kept his lips sealed. Until, at last, they reached their destination, the man offered his hand for the smaller one to hold as he disembarked. The wooden dwelling remained under construction, yet its eventual grandeur was plain to see. Kaewta gazed upward and pivoted to ask the man beside him.

 

"Whose residence, sir?"

"Can you guess?" The man gave a smiley answer.

 

"How is Kaew supposed to know?"

"It's our residence."

 

"Pardon?"

 

"It's our residence, yours and mine." Khun Phra Nai repeated. The playful grin gave way to a steadfast gleam in his eyes, which held his gaze unflinchingly.

 

"I had the architect design it for me. I shall build the waterside pavilion for you to do your art. There will be the ilang-ilang alcove-when you draw your pictures in the twilight hours, there will be a sweet scent to lull your spirit. A white pavilion will await Mother Payom for her leisure when she doesn't rehearse her dance, and flower beds, for Nanny Yam, to gather flowers for her fragrant sachets."

 

"Since when, sir?" The youth's gaze trailed after that fingertip, then drifted back to the one beside him, whose face was lit with an elated smile.

 

"Since the day that my love for Kaewta dawned on me."

"At the time, did Khun Yai truly believe that I would ever return your love?" The youth inquired, swallowing back a lump of sobbing in his throat. His narrow eyes weren't fixed upon the not-yet-complete dwelling but on the man beside the one holding his hand. The man looked at him, his gaze distant, and yet behind those contemplative eyes, something flickered.

 

"No...Never thought of it." That deep voice quivered.

"But Khun Yai built this dwelling nonetheless?"

 

"I wished to build a house where Kaewta would stay with me. If you would rather wish no one knew, I shall have the craftsmen erect walls to keep it from prying eyes. If you wish to practice your dancing, I shall have a small pavilion built for you. Though I could never know whether Kaewta would truly wish to come and live with me."

 

"What if I do not wish to come?"

 

"Then I shall seal shut this house forever." At the time, he had poured all of his devotion, placing his hopes in something that might not prove to be reality or merely an idle fantasy. He knew not whether the delicate figure before him would reciprocate the love his heart desired, yet still, he wished to build this sanctuary where he and Kaewta might dwell together.

 

"Khun Yai." The fair hand rose to tenderly touch his noble visage, offering a smile that cost him great effort as he struggled to hold back his tears. The other had devoted himself wholeheartedly without knowing if his affections would ever be returned. Did Khun Yai love him to such an extent? And what of his own heart? The bearer of those doleful eyes smiled, bending to place a kiss upon the smooth brow before drawing away to ask, "What would you say?"

 

"This house won't be sealed shut." These words of acceptance brought both smiles and joy to the listener's heart. The noble lord drew the slender figure into a tender embrace while the one held clasped him in return, his heart brimming with the very same sentiment.

 

"I love you, Kaewta. I love you so."

 

The wintry breeze had drifted past, bringing about the blistering breath of summer and the scorching sun that drew beads of sweat to one's very skin. Now, beneath the dappled shade cast by a towering figure, the slender youth lifted his eyes to behold the newcomer, a delicate smile curling upon his lips.

"What are you doing?" came the low, soothing voice. The young one set aside his task and rose to greet him. Upon glimpsing their guest, Payom stood and fetched a large silver basin filled with rainwater steeped in jasmine blossoms.

 

"I am mending the garment I am to wear for the festival, sir," The youth replied, laying his needlework aside and approaching the other.

 

"Ah, Songkran this year, I heard His Majesty intends to hold a grand celebration. The Royal Court Music Department shall be in great demand." The gentleman remarked as he raised the basin to take a sip and then passed it to Saen for his share.

 

"And what of your duties, sir? With all the recent inductions in the reassignments of rank and title, are you not swamped in the stir?" The youth asked playfully, setting a tray of confections upon the low settee in front of his newly arrived guest.

 

"Only a little, for there is much transfer of responsibility from hand to hand," Khun Phra Nai replied, accepting the cool towel from the young host and lifting it to dab his face and forehead. Seated just behind, Saen could scarcely conceal the wide grin that bloomed upon his lips as he took in the scene. The gentle banter between Khun Phra Nai and Khun Kaew was so endearing. What's more, the attentiveness Khun Kaew showed toward Khun Phra Nai appeared entirely natural, as though it always ought to be. Indeed, there was nothing amiss when these two collided...

 

A Royal Court Music Department was now entangled in ceaseless preparations. It deprived Khun Phra Nai of his beloved's company for several days, much enough to stir a quiet storm of frustration within him. He had gone to call upon the youth time and again; their paths hardly crossed. Even when he ventured to Luang Sanor's residence, they could scarcely exchange words.

 

With the day of the performance drawing near, the atmosphere grew ever more frenzied, and Khun Phra Nai found himself lamenting the strain of it all. As it turned out, His Majesty wished to behold Khon of Nang Loy, the episode of Ramayana, which was a piece He had penned himself. And it seemed that his sweet one had been entrusted with a role of great importance, such that he was required to eat and sleep under the very roof of the Khon Department.

 

"But why did Kaewta land a role in Khon?" Khun Phra Nai settled down the basin of rainwater and asked, his tone marked by a hint of bewilderment.

 

"Didn't you know Kaew has been my adoptive son ever since his father's passing? I sent him to study Khon from a tender age. That Chui Chai performance you saw that day, His Majesty summoned his court; I had only just called him back for that occasion. This time, it is on account of Phaya Nattakanurak's entreaty that I have allowed him to perform once more," Luang Sanor replied, smiling in quiet amusement at the younger man's demeanour.

 

"Then why can I not recall ever having seen his face before, sir?"

 

"Have you ever laid eyes on hon? You've always made your exit the moment when performances couldn't even start."The light jest drew a warm flush to his rough cheeks for how accurate the remark was. Only then, through Luang Sanor's words, did he reveal how many times fate had placed Kaewta within his reach, only for him to miss those moments over and over.

 

After that day of conversation with Luang Sanor, the man resolved to reside at the youth's small abode; he had even brought his work with him, toiling late into the night, just so he might collect his beloved from Khon practice, and took a glimpse before retiring for the night. Yet their time together scarcely amounted to more than a few words. 

 

A mere brief peck on the cheek and an embrace before bed were all they managed after a long, weary day. Unable to keep silent anymore, Khun Phra Nai lifted his head from the pages and looked toward the boy, who was busy bundling up a bundle of cloth and an assortment of things to take along to the Khon department.

 

"You're off to your dance practice again, aren't you?"The baritone voice inquired, with a note of grievance.

 

"Of course, I am. Or would you like to come along, Khun Yai?" The familiar, sweet, husky tone tossed a question back. The beautiful, bright eyes sparkled with hardly concealed joy when the voice's owner offered an invitation.

 

"Do you allow me to keep you company at last?"

 

"Who told you? Kaew won't allow Khun Phra Nai to accompany me. What if someone finds us?..."

 

"How cruel!"

 

"Keaw will dance what I rehearsed for you when I return. Is it good?" The questioner smiled as he eased down to sit, cheek resting affectionately against a broad shoulder. The tender-eyed man looked down and pinched the soft cheek lightly in fond exasperation at the smooth talker.

 

"Don't feign pleading, or you'll find yourself in trouble if I lose my restraint."

 

"I know you won't...because you wouldn't do anything to Kaew if I told you not to."

 

"When you obstruct me like this, how could I defy it?" The deep-hued lips compressed when those eyes gave him a loving stare. ...Wait for me, Khun Yai. I shall return soon, before long."

 

The small hand gently touched the other one's. Khun Phra Nai flipped his palm back, wrapped it firmly, and brought it to his lips.

 

"I shall wait. If I don't see your face before I sleep at night, I can find no rest. So, I shall wait for you." The one who was coaxed cast a wide beam before letting the lovable one go for dancing practice with a heart brimming with joy.

 

When the ceremonial day arrived, Khun Phra Nai was still far from free. Only by late afternoon did he at last find a brief respite; he slipped away to the pavilion of The Royal Court Music Department in search of someone who had occupied his thoughts, but search as he might, that person was nowhere to be found.

 

"May I suggest you have a seat for now, sir? If His Majesty arrives, you will find no time to sit." Saen spoke up upon seeing his master so agitated over not having seen his beloved for merely half a day, and he already looked distraught; he couldn't help but feel a twinge of exasperation.

 

"The Khon Rong Nail performance seemed entertaining, doesn't it, sir?" Saen tried to engage him in conversation, but the lack of response from his lord left him feeling somewhat slight. The young gentleman craned his neck, watching the performance with such rapt attention that Saen, who had initially harboured a small splinter, could only change his wounded feeling to a sigh. Neither the opening overture nor anything else, nothing capable of drawing his young master's attention away. Dear heavens, how severely his young master had become from a mere moment not to behold Khun Kaew...

 

No sooner had Saen finished his thought than his mouth fell open in awe, following his master's suit. The very moment the person, whom Khun Phra Nai had longed to see, stepped out from behind the curtain, he was the truest beauty beyond compare.  The scene on stage depicted the episode in which Ravana, mistaking Trijata in disguise for Sita, came forth to woo her in the royal court. Ravana's coyness drew laughter from the audience all around-save for the young nobleman, whose eyes remained fixed upon that false Sita alone.

 

Kaewta, adorned as Trijata in Sita's guise, was a vision of arresting splendour. A face of grace lit with a gentle smile. His petite frame was clad in a fitted short-sleeved bodice beneath a diagonal breast-cloth shawl whose long tail trailed to his calves. Ornate armlets hugged his upper arms while tiny floral bracelets chimed at each wrist. A multi-tiered collar necklace fanned across his neck, with a single pendant catching the light on his chest, and was supplemented by a delicate waist chain. 

 

For the lower half, a brocaded wrap skirt with front knife pleats was fastened by an opulent jewelled belt plaque. His head bore a spired coronet topped with a flame-shaped finial, the sides trimmed with ear-side floral sprays, one of which was adorned with a trailing garland tassel. The look was finished with multiple finger rings, decorative anklets, stacked wrap-around bangles, wide-hinged "centipede" cuffs, flared ear-wing plates, and rigid forearm bangles.

 

Altogether, the embellishments enhanced the dainty figure, making him seem no less lithesome than Sita herself. And it was this breathtaking beauty that sent a certain young man of the metropolis into such a madden fevered daze, scarcely remaining where he stood. 

O Chui Chai,

How light you glide,

Each silken step is a sweeping tide;

You sway, you mask in borrowed sheen-

A mirror of fair Sita's queen.

When Rama met that radiant view,

His warrior's heart stood still and rue.

O beauty-queen, your dazzling grace

Enchants all eyes that find your face;

Awake or dreaming, souls implore

One fleeting glance, then beg for more.

Your loveliness, a tempered dart,

Drives through the ramparts of my heart.

O Lady-giant queen of guile,

You don the lotus maiden's smile;

In Sita's form you set the snare,

And Ravana is caught aware.

You tease him toward a frenzied blaze,

Till reason yields beneath your gaze.

So svelte,

So slender, willow-fine,

A waist like vines in jungle twine;

Arms sleek as Kinnari's wings

When she in languid rapture swings.

Up jewelled halls your footsteps ring,

You rise to greet the sovereign king M.

 

Like that first moment when he beheld Kaewta's face, the young lord's heart was stolen before he could guard against it. And now, once more, when those spellbinding small eyes glanced his way, his heart nearly ceased its beating. Those carmine lips, when parting in a smile, were even more alluring.

 

The svelte figure, draped in Sita's costume, swayed aside from Ravana's pursuit, yet it caused one spectator's heart to know no peace. The Khun Phra Nai smiled bashfully when the other caught sight of his enraptured state. That Sita on the stage curved his lips in a demure smile before swiftly composing himself and continuing his performance.

 

Seemingly, he had become as Ravana himself, enslaved by Sita's charm. Whether the youth's beauty had smitten him at first sight, he would confess it true. Yet as acquaintance deepened, the more he came to know the boy's character, the more he dared proclaim it was not mere beauty that captured his heart. The young lord cherished everything that was Kaewta-the entire being and soul...

 

When the Khon Rong Nai drew to a close, the man slipped from his seat and made his way to the performer's dressing quarters, where some had already shed their costumes into ordinary attire. Catching sight of his familiar silhouette passing by, he straightened and swiftly pulled the person who had just finished changing aside.

 

"Hey! Release me!" The smaller one panicked, resisting as he was being pulled along.

 

"Shh! It's me," the baritone voice assured as that handsome face turned toward him.

 

"Khun Yai!" The stripling's voice quieted upon recognising his captor.

 

"I've missed you terribly." The young man drew the smaller form behind a large tree, his sturdy arms trapping the willowy form between himself and the trunk. He gazed intently at the smooth face, now bare of powder and rouge, yet whose natural beauty still made his heart tremble ceaselessly.

 

"How so? It's only been a few days-Mmph!"The honeyed, teasing voice was cut short as hot lips swooped down. The heated tongue of the tall man invaded him, taking him by surprise. It swept and chased until he could scarcely respond. Velvet lips were ground insistently, revealing the other's desperate want. The youth attempted to retreat from unfamiliarity with such passion. Yet, a large hand still cupped his nape, tilting the smaller form up to receive his kisses, his tongue coaxing sweetly for reciprocation.

 

"Mmm..." A deep rumble of satisfaction at the response. His other palm rose to caress the blushing cheek gently. Raven tresses fall past the ears, tangled beneath the large hand's caresses. A faint fragrance drifted to his prominent nose, evoking the searing emotions that surged beyond restraint. The ambrosial essence from the delicate form was headier than the floral sachet. Even the finest fragrant powder stood no contest. Small hands gripped the taller one's shirt, creating creases, as he gasped for air. The young lord withdrew his lips reluctantly, though still tarried so close with lingering desire. Lustrous eyes beheld those plush lips, now reddened and swollen from his ardent kisses that ignited guilt in

his chest. That striking face curved into a smile.

 

"My apologies, little one. I've missed you far too much." His baritone voice was hoarse and rough. The tableau presented proved ruinously enticing. The fine-lined eyes of the form in his arms, weakened by his kisses, tried hazily to glare at him. Red, glistening lips parted as if inviting another taste.

 

"Wait, someone might see us." Pale hands formed fists to drum once upon those broad shoulders, not too forcefully.

 

"It's already dark. No one will see," the young lord smiled in reply. "What's more, I longed for you beyond words."

 

"We're returning to the residence shortly, nonetheless."

The smaller one protested as he tried to shift away from those powerful arms, but the other seemed unwilling to allow it when the young man held him more firmly.

 

"Don't you miss me at all?" Slender brows arched with the question. Smooth cheeks within his arms bloomed with colour.

 

"...No," the sweet voice murmured.

 

"Those words cut me deeply. Come now, won't you say something to gladden me?" Slender fingers lifted that round chin, making the one who'd looked down meet his eyes before gently stroking the soft cheek. "If you don't speak, I shall seek my answer from your lips instead." At this, the handsome face immediately descended. Searing lips touched lightly, withdrawing but a breath before pressing again pleadingly, until the owner of those soft lips yielded to the heated tongue's sweet invasion. Some sound within the left chest thrummed in competition with the music from the festivities, yet neither heard anything but their own heartbeats and the meeting of their lips. 

 

This kiss held no urgent fervour as before, but was rather sweet and tender.

Full lips teasingly kneaded without breaking away, savouring nectar throughout that small mouth cavity. When the one in his arms tried to respond with an intertwining tongue, it nearly melted down the young lord entirely. The slight form's strength gave way, leaning into him as the nobleman eased them down against the great tree's base. The young man withdrew to gaze at that smooth face before lowering once more…

 

He couldn't count how many times the young lord circled back for kiss after kiss. Soft lips became swollen as the narrow eyes half-opened, watching him with tenderness. The young man tucked those jet strands behind an ear, then cradled that rosy cheek. The smooth face tilted and inclined, as if to coax, sending the watcher's heart racing. The young man shifted to nose his high-bridged nose to that fair forehead, kissing elegant brows, eye comers, and the button nose, grazing those pink-tinged cheeks before returning to those reddened lips once more. Planting kisses with a darting tongue, entangling without release, timelessly...

 

════[changbins_delulu_wife]════

 

"Kaew! Kaewta!"

"Why doesn't he wake up?"

"Son!"

 

The urgent cries rang out, echoing in desperation-then faded into the distance, swallowed once more by darkness...

 

Chai, who was carrying the limp figure on the bed, froze when Kaewta's pale hands refused to let go of the drawing. Seeing this, Ruedee tried gently to pry it free, but it was of no use. The siblings exchanged a glance before deciding to carry Kaewta out with the picture still in hand.

 

That afternoon, Chai went to pick up Chan Pen at the temple after the monk's meal offering. Just as the Venerable Monk was finishing his prayers, out of nowhere, he turned to them and urged them to hurry home, then said to Chan Pen, "Call out to your son often. Call him with your heart. Don't let him go."

 

They initially didn't understand what the Venerable was trying to say until they arrived home. And then, almost simultaneously, a wave of dread brought Kaewta to both their minds. It nearly knocked Chan Pen to her feet at the sight of her son lying motionless on the bed. That face was so deathly pale, as if devoid of colour. That body was cold as ice, and that chest scarcely rose and fell, almost unmoved. In his arms, he held a portrait of a person in a tight embrace. What had happened?

 

Chai clenched his fists, staring at the unconscious boy on the sickbed. A twinge of pain in his chest was so deep it drove him to strike the wall. Ruedee frowned slightly at her brother before turning to fan Chan Pen, who had fainted beside them. Chai struggled to pull the portrait from the boy's grasp, but even unconscious, Kaewta still loved him this much?

 

"What did you do to him? Come out, I know you're here!" Chai shouted, scanning the empty void around him with eyes full of rage. No voice replied, only a breeze stirred, soft and cold, as if arguing.

 

"Why would you do this? Do you want him to follow your death?" At his words, the wind grew stronger as if anger blew in. Chai turned to the hospital bed. A faint silhouette had appeared beside it.

 

'No,' the woeful eyes met his. Those words were fragmented and barely audible, and the figure himself seemed to fade even more. '..So.Phee..'

"What are you saying?" Chai asked. Ruedee followed his gaze but saw nothing.

"Is he here?"

 

"Don't you see him?" Chai frowned as she shook her head. He turned back to the fading figure, now flickering like a weak signal. The once-handsome face now looked dim and worn with sorrow as he stared down at Kaewta on the bed...

...Grieving as if weeping...

 

The figure leaned down to place a gentle kiss on Kaewta's forehead. If his eyes weren't deceiving him, Chai could swear he saw tears falling from that gossamer presence.

...Anguished as if his heart would break...

 

"Or he might not have done this to Kaewta?" Chai said to his sister, glancing at the drawing beside the bed.

 

"But..." Ruedee objected.

"He was crying."

 

"What?"

 

"Khun Phra Nai. He was right there, but now I can't see him anymore. He was crying," Chai said. He stared at the space that remained. Even so, he was sure the man hadn't left, just now invisible, and he wasn't sure why. They'd been able to speak earlier as though he were fully alive...

 

"Then how did Kaew end up like this?"

"Sophee."

 

"Excuse me?" Ruedee thought she'd misheard.

 

"I couldn't hear clearly, but from reading his lips, it seemed Khun Phra Nai said 'Sophee."

 

"You mean Auntie Sophee?" Ruedee raised her brow, clearly baffled by why her beautiful aunt's name had been involved.

 

"I'm going to ask the doctor about Kaew's condition again."

"I'm coming too."

 

"You'd better stay and look after Aunt Pen."

"Please let me accompany you for a while." Ruedee was deeply worried about her friend. She wanted to hear the diagnosis from the doctor's own lips. "I want the doctor to see Autie Pen's conditions, too." Chai nodded and left the room. The door opened softly. The tall man frowned as he looked at the figure on the bed. He reached out and gently touched that pale cheek.

 

"What's happened to you, Kaewta?" the new art professor murmured. He gazed at the boy, eyes closed in slumber, his worry growing deeper.

 

Since parting ways yesterday, he hadn't been able to stop thinking about Kaewta's strange manner and that white house. His concentration had been so poor today that he'd ended up driven to Ruedee's brother's gallery, only to discover Kaewta had already gone home. So, he'd followed, hoping to learn more about that white house. There, he'd found everyone in distress and watched as Chai carried Kaewta's unconscious body to the hospital. However, he hadn't entered right away, seeing how frantic everyone was and not wanting to intrude.

 

"Is it connected to that house?" He guessed, then scanned the room, and froze at what he found....A portrait of someone who looked exactly like him...

 

"Is that... me?" The tall man stepped closer, lifting the painting to examine it closely. The facial structure, the nose, the mouth-every feature matched his own almost identically. Yet this wasn't him. Despite the uncanny resemblance, one thing set them apart: those melancholic eyes. So, who was the man in the portrait? Was he the one Kaewta loved?

 

The memory of their first meeting at the university came flooding back to him. That day, Kaewta had stared at him with such surprising joy before calling him...

 

"Khun Phra Nai?"