Interminable

From the very beginning, he was merely intrigued by that luminous face, those sparkling eyes that held a hint of sorrow. Who could have imagined that such a simple beginning would ensnare his entire heart? So tightly bound that he could never break free. He wanted that love. He wanted that smile to be his.

 

"Khun Phra Nai."

 

"What did you say?" For a fleeting moment, that face looked at him. Those eyes flickered, and those lips were on the verge of smiling, but then went still. That gesture made it impossible for him to look away, and he burned with curiosity to know whose shadow the other saw when he gazed upon him.

 

He pursued; Kaewta fled even further. He said he wasn't real, and tears welled in those enchanting eyes. Strange how it could make his chest constrict in a way it never had before. He watched persistently, and when he caught sight of that pristine face adorned with a smile, he found himself smiling too. He didn't know why. Perhaps it was the stubbornness from their first encounter, or the pride when he inadvertently showed sympathy during the boy's moments of hardship. Everything... everything about Kaewta always held his gaze captive. Why was it so? He wondered and kept questioning himself.

 

"You cannot draw the White Manor without my permission." He had wanted to tease the boy into anger to see more varied expressions on that face. However, he was a man of his word. So, he could only resolve that one day he would draw the plans for that house, not that he craved victory, but as a gift for this very person. It was as if the house were hiding someone, or something, inside. Kaewta wouldn't let him come close to it again. Rarely did he catch a glimpse of that beautiful residence.

 

"You're bleeding!" The hoarse, sweet voice cried as he spotted the vivid red droplets on his hand. He was terribly clumsy as he reached for the picture cylinder. It had rolled away, and he caught it without thinking, striking the table's corner. The pain sent him staggering backwards into the wall, knocking a framed picture down to crash and shatter.

 

Kaewta seized his hand and quickly drew a handkerchief from his trouser pocket, wrapping it around the injury with urgent care. Those smooth cheeks, which had always held a delicate blush, were now washed out in colour. He lifted his hand to brush his fingertips gently against that wan cheek, hoping to offer comfort.

 

"It's nothing. I'm not badly hurt," he said. The owner of those cheeks jolted away in alarm. He smiled at that reaction, so the person before him made a frown before turning his back and leaving. He kept that handkerchief in his left chest pocket, keeping it without returning it ...Why, indeed?

 

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He kept finding excuses to show up at Khun Chai's gallery, Ruedee's elder brother's place, just in the hope of catching sight of that sweet face. Whenever he had no classes or holidays stretched past two or three days, his heart grew increasingly restless, yearning to see that face. He'd visited Khun Chai's house once, not expecting to find Kaewta there. 

 

That svelte figure sat in a chair beneath the shade of trees with a canvas propped before the boy. That slim arm moved as the boy sketched on the canvas; those lips curved into a soft, delightful smile. He stopped in mid-stride and decided to take no further steps. That smile-would there ever be a day when Kaewta directed it at him?

 

That evening, Khun Chai invited him to stay for dinner. The petite figure glanced at him briefly before looking away. He asked questions in long, elaborate sentences, but the boy responded with just a few words. He laughed. The other looked up at him then, brows furrowed, wondering what was funny.

 

"Are those words gold coins to you or something? You're so stingy with words that I can't even keep a conversation going."

 

"If talking produced actual gold coins, that would be wonderful. I'd be rich in no time since I'd probably talk all day long."

 

"Stingy boy." He laughed again, and Kaewta, the listener, followed suit. He froze, suspended by that smile. Those eyes sparkled with amusement, causing his heart to pound hard once more. It was as if something kept Kaewta veiled from the surroundings. That pair of eyes would always look past him, gazing somewhere beyond. With a woeful smile and yearning reflection, he wanted to ask whom Kaewta was searching for. Until one day, his heart nearly dropped when he heard the boy had fallen ill and was hospitalised. He wanted to visit, wanted to care for him, but it proved that he was well-guarded, and what was he to the boy to warrant a visit?

 

"You're awake." Finally, he couldn't stop himself. Both feet halted before the patient's door. That smooth face was pallid. Those beautiful eyes sparkled with joy for a moment upon seeing him, before dimming once more.

 

"Whose portrait is that?" His gaze caught sight of a picture frame placed near the bed. He beamed widely when he saw the image clearly. Was that his face? But... there was something that wasn't quite... Thus, his smile gradually faded.

 

"Please take me to the White Manor," the one on the bed pleaded. He wanted to ask, 'Why go there?' 'To see whom?'

 

"Khun Phra Nail Khun Phra Nai! Are you here?" Kaewta's voice rang out, calling for someone expected to be in the White Manor. But how could that be when the entire house now lay utterly silent, overgrown as if devoid of any. A living soul?

 

"Kaewta, who are you calling for? There shouldn't be anyone here."

 

"There is! My Khun Phra Nai, of course. He must be here."

 

That name is Khun Phra Nai. The first time they'd met, Kaewta had called him so... but it wasn't him. The words, my Khun Phra Nai, that Kaewta spoke were as if to tear at his very heart. He walked through various rooms, hoping to help the boy find Khun Phra Nai. Suddenly, his eyes caught sight of a large portrait hanging behind a massive desk. His blood ran cold. Goosebumps rose before he rushed upstairs to question Kaewta once more.

 

"Kaewta, who are you looking for?"

"I told you, Khun Phra Nai! My Khun Phra Nai!"

 

"The person in that portrait?"

"Yes!"

 

"But... that painting is decades old. How could he still exist?" he asked, deeply shaken by the answer.

 

"He exists for me!" At those words, tears suddenly streamed down his cheeks, those beautiful eyes fracturing with pain.

 

"It's impossible. Though I've never seen him, I know he's not human." Because of that look in Kaewta's eyes, he spoke words that pierced the other's heart like a spear thrust.

"How could you know better than I? He was here before. He was with me!" If his words were a spear's point, Kaewta's words were like a blade's edge cutting into his own heart.

 

"If you truly saw him, then he must be a ghost!"

 

"Stop it!"

"Where? Where is he now? Why doesn't he appear?"

 

"He must be here, must be here..." The person before him wept, those lips ceaselessly calling out that name.

 

"Kaewta, could it be me?" Small shoulders quivered with the force of their sobs. He pulled Kaewta into an embrace, hoping these arms could ease the boy's pain, that his chest might absorb those tears even as his own heart shattered into pieces alongside the person before him. After that, he never left Kaewta's side to watch over the boy. Sometimes he was pushed away, and sometimes he was gazed upon with yearning. Even if he was just a substitute, he had now consented to it.

 

"Kaew."

 

"Yes?" The young man before him looked up, offering a faint smile. This was the first time they had smiled at him with genuine warmth. His heart raced wildly in his left chest. He smiled in return, reaching for the delicate figure before him, but his arms found only emptiness. He startled awake from the dream.

 

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"...Could it be me, Kaewta?"

"What do you mean?"

 

"Could I be the one who loves you...In Khun Phra Nai's stead?" he pleaded. He yearned for the person before him to smile once more. He had learned the entire story from Ruedee and understood how their love had been.

 

"You are not him."

"I know, but ..."

 

"You don't know how hard it was for us to love each other."

 

The person before him twisted their wrist free from his grasp.

"No, I don't know how hard it was for you and him to love each other. But you don't know how much I love you, either."

 

".." Those slender shoulders trembled, yet Kaewta still refused to look his way. That figure walked away, gradually fading from sight. Suddenly, warm droplets cascaded down his cheeks. He was crying. His heart ached so terribly that he could scarcely breathe. How many days had passed since he last saw Kaewta's face?

 

After that day, his health deteriorated so severely that he needed to tend to himself anew. He missed Kaewta's sparkling, beautiful eyes. He missed that smile he was seldom granted. He missed the brushstrokes, those exquisite lines of Kaewta's art. He missed that person's strength when facing adversity. He missed the sweet, husky voice that called his name. He missed the tenderness concealed beneath that veil of indifference. He missed Kaewta. Missed him desperately. And today... he longed to see that face.

 

He went to Kaewta at Chai's residence, but he was told that Kaewta had left home that morning. Where would the boy go? He wondered. Where could the boy possibly be? Right, that white house! An elegant European automobile was parked outside the white house. It looked familiar, yet he couldn't recall whose it was. He approached the white house grounds.

 

'Go in, now,' a distant whisper seemed to urge him. Sudden anxiety mounted high and hammered in his chest. He ran, calling out Kaewta, Kaewta, his heart burning with urgency. Where was he?

 

'Upstairs,' he followed the whispered direction.

 

"Khun Sophee! What are you doing?" The young woman who had visited him months earlier, constantly, stood there holding matches. The acrid smell of oil sent him into a panic. Then his eyes caught Kaewta's motionless form lying flat on the floor. His heart lurched with dread. He tried to stall Sophee while checking whether Kaewta was still breathing. Seeing his chest rise and fall brought a moment's relief.

 

"Whether then or now, you only have eyes for him!"

"I'm not him," though he desperately wished he were.

 

"Liar! You are my darling, not his!"

 

He advanced to wrest the match from her hands. However, she wouldn't yield, and eventually, be able to light the match and throw it onto the oil-soaked floor. He lunged toward the unconscious figure, but Sophee held him back. He shook her off, but was pulled even harder. They tumbled down the stairs together.

 

Pain. Excruciating pain shot through his entire body. His breath reeked of blood. His thoughts cried out for Kaewta. Save him-someone must save Kaewta! His heart screamed. Agony crashed through his chest. He choked on his own breath, coughing up blood that slowly welled forth. Kaewta...Suddenly, he caught sight of someone-that person he'd only seen in portraits, whose face was a mirror image of his own.

 

"Khun Phra Nai, is that you?" The figure nodded. Those sorrow-laden eyes looking at him were clouded with regret.

 

"You feel guilty for not being able to save Kaewta and me, don't you?" That young master nodded again.

 

"Save Kaewta. Save him, please." Tears fell from that face.

 

'Forgive me,' he smiled faintly before everything departed-even his final breath...

He watched his own bloodied body slowly stir in motion, dragging itself up the stairs through the raging flames. The other figure's shout rushed him to take Kaewta away from the fire. The beam crashed down, blocking their escape route. He looked anxiously at Kaewta in the arms and body that used to be his. That man glanced back at Sophee in shock as another wooden beam came crashing down and ended that very life.

 

'Khun Yai, sir! The balcony!' He watched Kaewta being cradled in those arms.

 

"Kaewta, my precious one."

"Khun Phra Nai."

 

"You're safe now." That person gave a light kiss on that smooth forehead.

 

"Where have you been?"

"I've been here, always been around you."

 

"Don't disappear again. Don't go, because I love you."

"Kaewta?"

 

"Kaew loves Khun Phra Nai."

"I love you, too. To no end..."

 

In quietude, he took in the scene before him. Warm drops of tears traced down his cheeks, yet still he smiled-smiled at seeing Kaewta safe, even though... even though he could no longer remain to watch over the boy. He moved closer and kneeled, gazing once more with infinite tenderness at that serene face before slowly leaning down to press a gentle kiss upon that smooth forehead. A tear fell, alighting on soft skin. 'Farewell, my dearest Kaewta'

 

"Please forgive me," came the gravelly voice from full lips. Khun Phra Nai looked at him as he apologised. He shook his head, saying it was all right.

 

'Thank you.' For protecting Kaewta. If there should be another life, he wished...

...to love again.

 

Oh, the earth and sky would mourn,

Heaven wails in thunderous cry.

Deeper still, my heart was torn,

As Earth keep holding on to, blind, and high

We still weep and cry,

Grieve and yearn,

Till moonlight fades and stars won't burn;

Yet love remains; it knows no end.

The sun's goodbye left me undone,

A soul bereft, where love won't mend.