Interminable

Merit in the shared life, alms offerings in the shared bowl, we vowed to return as lovers once more.

 

The slender figure eased aside, sensing movement behind him, yet didn't step forward to offer respects to the Buddha. Assuming he might not have moved far enough, he thus edged over. His hands still cradled a bundle of flowers, incense, and candles, not yet raised in prayer. However, the very same man remained unsatisfied, inching closer until their arms brushed.

 

"Hey!" About to turn and scold, he stopped short upon realising who the intruder was.

 

"May I join you in prayer?" said the handsome man, with a smile. Kaewta's brows drew together in upset. He tried again to nudge away, but each effort only pressed him up against the other devotee. With no choice left, he could only huff.

 

"I can't seem to find Saen, so may I borrow one of your flower offerings, Kaewta?"

 

Those slender eyes darted toward him, but the man only responded with another charming smile, and Kaewta's anger wavered on a sigh. The young nobleman chuckled again, accepted the bouquet, lit the incense and candle, and set to his devotions. Then he delicately placed the bouquet in the same vase, nestling the incense sticks against Kaewta's and the candle too.

 

Kaewta, pretending not to watch, observed every movement with quiet frustration.

The youth reached for the tiffin and cast about, searching for his mother. Just as he was about to scoop rice into the alms bowl, he startled at an unknown hand that clasped over his, joining the ladle hold.

 

"May I offer alms too?"

 

"Let go!" came the whispered warning, his sweet voice laced with threat. Those slender eyes glared up, trying to appear fierce, yet the tall figure standing before him merely smiled.

 

"Oh, I only wished to offer alms to the monks." He said with feigned lament.

"Go fetch your own offerings then!"

 

"Huh, I would like to do that too, but I can't tell where Saen wandered off to."

Kaewta was unconvinced that the man truly could not find his attendant. Still, he cast his eyes about in search of Saen.

"There he is." The small hand pointed toward Saen, now standing beside his mother. He strode swiftly toward the pair, unaware of the icy look Khun Phra Nai cast upon his retainer.

 

"Kaew, haven't you made your offering yet?" Payom asked her son, noticing the rice in the tiffin remained untouched.

 

"I was waiting for you, Mother," Kaewta replied, turning to sneer at the tall figure who had followed close behind, as if to say he would be offering with his mother, so there would be no portion left for another.

 

"But I've already offered mine," Payom said with a gentle smile. Her son's grin froze; he glanced at his mother, confusion in his eyes.

 

"Saen just asked me to join me for the offering a short while ago. Go on now, dear, so that you may present the food to the monks in time." Upon hearing this, Kaewta threw a dark glare, scowling, then shot the very same look at the figure behind

him, who stood grinning from ear to ear. He could only toss his head and stride off to make his own offering.

 

"Well then, I've nothing left to give now."

"Because Saen has given my food to Mother Payom..."

 

"You do talk a lot! Are you offering alms or not, my good sir?" The sweet-faced owner of the sweet face cut him a sharp glance, cutting off the loquacious aristocrat. The man grinned widely as he drew close from behind, took the pale hand to guide it, and scooped rice into the monks' bowls. Meanwhile, his other arm encircled the slim waist as if cradling it, as the tip of his high nose brushed against the soft strands of hair, breathing in the clean, gentle scent. His heart pounded with overflowing joy. He lowered his gaze to the delicate profile before him, and, smiling, quietly made a wish...

 

The smaller figure stiffened as his movement pressed him back against the broad chest behind. The large hand enclosing his own made him long to wrench free, had he any strength left. His ears rang, the sounds around him muffled, and his cheeks flamed.

 

"Merit in the shared life, alms offerings in the shared bowl, we vowed to return as lovers once more," The man whispered against his ear as they reached the last monk's bowl. Kaewta whipped around to glare at him, eyes green with ire. His already warm face flushed even deeper.

"What nonsense are y-" He didn't get to finish. A slender finger pressed gently to his red lips.

 

"Shh. Temple grounds are no place for coarse words, Little One." The shimmering eyes twinkled, then he took Kaewta's hand to fetch a large tray of food for the monks. It was only because they were in a temple, Kaewta told himself, that he let the scoundrel off the hook; he made an excuse for himself.

 

Kaewta had lost count of how many times he'd shot him black looks by now, for the tall figure had somehow seated himself beside him at last. He sat close, and every time Kaewta shifted away, the man followed, until he could bear it no longer and scolded. But the refined visage remained serenely unfazed, that ever-present smile unaltered. Kaewta exhaled and turned to offer his respects to the monks instead, too weary to protest. Khun Phra Nai inclined himself to study the youth beside him. Those porcelain cheeks, tinged with rose, were enticing. Long lashes cast faint shadows upon lowered lids as those eyes gazed down. Lips the colour of fresh pomegranate moved softly in whispered prayer. Raven-black hair, neatly pinned back. He drew a deep breath as warmth passed through the arm that brushed his. He made his wish again and again… To share a life as one.

 

════[changbins_delulu_wife]════

 

A small hand patted down the last of the sand before its owner rose to his full height, casting an appraising glance over the work. Once satisfied at last, he smiled with pride. The sand pagoda, fashioned entirely by his own hands and without hindrance, had taken shape swiftly. He had brought sand to the temple at dawn and offered alms, all the while contending with the vexing companion who was so absorbed in Luang Sanor's words. Thus, he seized the moment and stole away on his own.

 

After Kaewta's slight figure strode off, that very person emerged, eyes resting upon the modest sand pagoda before breaking into a wide grin. After a pause, he drew from his pocket a handful of tiny, colourful flags. The young nobleman knelt gracefully and began to adorn the mound with care. A handful of young women, catching sight of the handsome nobleman decorating a sand pagoda, hurried over, eager to lend a hand and steal a moment near him. Yet they stilled at once when Saen cast a forbidding look, bidding them keep their distance. The gentleman turned to glance at his devoted aide and laughed softly. Saen grew ever more adept at guarding him in Kaewta's stead.

 

Kaewta returned just then, having just remembered he ought to find some ornament to decorate his own, if only a little to make it more appealing. But as he approached and beheld the sight before him, he paused, glancing to either side as if to assure himself he was standing before the selfsame mound he had just finished. The once-bare pagoda was now festooned with many-hued flags. He stilled, a modest smile unfolding as he understood who must have done it. Who else could it have been, if not Khun Phra Nai?

 

Kaewta took no part in the performance on this occasion, only to discover later that someone had thus petitioned Luang Sanor. Accordingly, Kaewta was left free to stroll the fair by night, a visitor rather than a performer to enjoy the temple festivities from the other side of the stage. Kaewta carried the bundle swathed in a banana leaf, within which lay the candied jujubes, and made straight for the foremost bench before the performance stage. He sat and partook of the sweets, and by the time he had nearly finished, the performance had but just begun. A thrill stirred within him at the thought of at last witnessing the piphat ensemble take the stage.

 

During the overture, the person beside him sprang up in a flurry, startling him so that he turned at once. The fellow's face was pale, and in the next breath, he turned and fled headlong. Kaewta was on the verge of calling out to him and stopping him, yet a sharp crescendo from the stage seized his attention once more.

He lamented having bought so few of the jujubes, for no sooner had the performance begun than the sweets were gone to the last bite. Tempted though he was to rise and purchase more, he found himself too enthralled by the performance to tear himself away. Presently, someone took the seat beside him. Kaewta did not turn to look, assuming the same fellow had returned. It saddened him that his companion had missed the performance's opening. Just then, a bundle of candied jujubes was proffered before him. The youth glanced down and followed the line of a strong arm up to a strikingly handsome face he knew well.

 

"You!"

"Please forgive my tardiness. I was delayed fetching candied jujubes for you."

 

"Eh?" Kaewta frowned, puzzled by his explanation. He glanced around at the spectators, all of whom were enraptured by the performance. He was certain the person seated beside him seconds ago had not been Khun Phra Nai. How then had the man come to be seated here now? Only later did he learn that Saen, Khun Phra Nai's ever-faithful aide, had pressed the point of a sword to the man's back, driving the poor fellow to flee in alarm. And so it was that the devastatingly handsome nobleman took the empty seat as his own.

"Sit yourself down, will you?" The broad palm caught hold of his slender arm just as the smaller figure sprang to his feet.

 

"No!"

"This performance was brought from Nakhon Sri, you know. Would you not stay to see it through?"

 

".."He hesitated, turning his gaze toward the stage with a wavering heart.

 

"Do sit down. The folks behind are beginning to grow perturbed with you for obstructing their view." Kaewta shot the speaker a baleful glare with a hiss, yet upon catching the annoyed glances cast from those seated nearby, he reluctantly lowered himself into place. Turning back, a sidelong glance showed that the tall figure was grinning broadly. His vexation only deepened.

 

Perhaps it was the joy of the performance on stage that soon had Kaewta forget his earlier irritation. His slender hand reached out for the candied jujube that the young man beside him offered, and he nibbled contentedly. Before he knew it, his stomach was pleasantly filled. A chuckle from the young man drew a rosy hue to Kaewta's cheeks, and he could do little else but feign a huff to mask his fluster.

 

His fingers, sticky from syrup, were about to wipe them on his own trousers when the man beside him caught his wrist and set to cleaning them for him with a neatly folded handkerchief. Startled, Kaewta tried to tug his hand away. His eyes darted everywhere, worry spiking; what if someone had seen? Fortunately, all eyes remained fixed upon the stage, and the shadows in their corner kept them hidden.

 

"Let go!"

 

"In a moment, Little One." Kaewta faltered at the gentle tone. His resistance softened, and he allowed the nobleman to continue wiping his hand until it was clean. As he looked upon that chiselled profile that was so admired among the ladies of the capital, his heart gave an errant leap. Heat surged to his cheeks as though they'd been seared so much that he hardly noticed what happened on stage from then on. By the time the performance came to a close, he had no recollection of how it ended.

 

Even after the imposing man had finished tending to his hand, he hadn't yet released it. And when Kaewta tried to pull away, the larger hand merely tightened his grip, turning his palm, threading their fingers together. His whispered protests were met with nothing but a smile. When he tried to edge away, the other simply followed, drawing nearer until Kaewta nearly slid off the bench. What puzzled him most was that he didn't merely rise and walk away. The heat of the day had long waned, and in the depth of night, the chill had grown keen. The boy folded his arms against the cold, just as something warm and soft settled upon his shoulders. He halted, glancing back at the one who had placed it there.

 

"I don't want it!" Kaewta snapped, brushing it aside. But the strong hand swiftly reached out, setting it across his narrow shoulders.

 

"The air is cold. You'll fall ill," came the calm reply.

 

"Precisely! The air is cold. You'll fall ill!" The youth pulled the shawl from his own shoulders, rose on tiptoe, and swung it across the broader frame before him instead. The nobleman's eyes widened; so did Kaewta's, only then realising what he'd done. He turned his back at once, as if to shield his burning cheeks from the sparkle of that gaze.

 

“I'm truly glad you worry for me, but I am quite warm." Khun Phra Nai removed the shawl and set it back over Kaewta's shoulders once more. The warmth seeped not only through his skin but somewhere far deeper. Kaewta held the shawl close and said nothing as he allowed the man to escort him home all the way to the porch. That night, he went to bed with the shawl still wrapped snugly around him, without once thinking to take it off.

 

════[changbins_delulu_wife]════

 

: Jest

 

Kaewta stilled mid-step at the sight of a tall figure standing just beyond the fence. He let out a weary sigh of discontent, feigning nonchalance, and proceeded without so much as a glance. The other man said nothing, simply trailed silently in his wake. Though he voiced no complaint aloud, Kaewta's irritation did not relent. He rolled his eyes, weighing what ruse he might play this time to vex Khun Phra Nai. His gaze fell upon the path ahead, and a smile curved his lips. The walk from his house to Uncle's was no brief distance; ample enough, in truth, it could indeed tire one's feet.

 

"Ah!" he cried, pitching forward and falling with a thud, sending the man behind him hastening over in alarm.

 

"What is it, Little One? Did you sprain your ankle?" That finely hewn face bent toward him; a broad, steady hand reached to touch his ankle with the gentlest care. The warm, callous palm startled Kaewta, prompting him to yank his leg away, for he had not expected the other to stoop so low in concern.

 

"It's nothing grave. Let go."

 

"In a moment, it may swell. Come, I shall rub it for you," Khun Phra Nai replied, undeterred. He reached once more for the slender ankle, eyes searching for a place to sit and finding only the base of a great tree. He guided Kaewta to rest there and then knelt beside him.

 

"Hey!" Kaewta jerked his foot back from the other's grasp, for the young man had sat directly opposite and drawn Kaewta's foot gently into his lap. That striking face lifted to meet his gaze with reproach, and Kaewta reluctantly stilled himself, allowing him to knead the sore joint.

 

Kaewta held his breath until his face was nearly blue, as long fingers pressed and circled gently about his ankle. His heart hammered, as though it might burst its bounds. His smooth cheeks flushed with an ungovernable heat. The way he touched him was so gingerly. Those keen, expressive eyes were fixed upon the pale joint, his hands working with tempered hand. His fingertips were cool to the touch, just enough to soothe the ache. 

 

Thick, lustrous hair, dressed with care. A wide brow, a high, graceful nose. Lashes that fell low over his eyes. Full lips. A strong jaw, upright shoulders, long limbs-a figure wrought in beauty. And that voice! Low, gravelly, with a music all its own, it was little wonder the young ladies of the city were utterly bewitched. Neatly dressed, thick, lustrous hair. A broad brow, a high, graceful nose. Lashes that framed his eyes. Full lips. A strong jaw, upright shoulders, long limbs, a figure wrought in beauty. And that voice! Gravelly low with a music to the ear. Indubitably, the young ladies of the city were utterly bewitched. Suddenly, an inexplicable pique rose in Kaewta, and he drew his foot from the broad hand.

 

"I'm going home!" he snapped, just as the man looked up with bewildered eyes.

The tall figure shifted into a crouch, turned his back toward him, and glanced over his shoulder.

 

"I shall carry you."

 

"No!" Kaewta perceived that Khun Phra Nai meant for him to ride upon his back; yet, the thought that such tenderness might be offered to countless others across the city made his chest twist with fresh frustration.

 

"...Then I shall lift you."

"Don't you dare!" Kaewta gasped and lurched back, for the young man had already turned and looked poised to do just that.

 

"Then climb on. I shall see you home."

"I can walk back myself," the youth murmured, attempting a retreat. Yet, having only moments ago feigned pain, he now acted as though unable to bear his full weight on the ankle.

 

"Your ankle's sprained, isn't it? How could you walk home yourself?" The confession that he wasn't truly injured, but rather only wished to tease the other, choked in his mouth. Thus, he had to be borne upon the taller man's back.

 

To bring himself to admit he'd feigned it just to toy with the man, died in his mouth. Thus, he must let the strapping one bear him home. Never before had Kaewta envied another's stature. Though his own frame was not that of a sturdy young man, he had never minded it, for he'd been raised in the Royal Music Department; to possess a petite, near-feminine build had never seemed peculiar. But now, how he wished he possessed such a body as that of the one who carried him, so that he might stand on equal ground.

 

That back, broad, firm, and quietly steadfast, seemed a refuge. Without quite meaning to, Kaewta let himself drift, resting his cheek against that strong shoulder. A hush filled his ears as warmth crept up his cheeks once more. His slender arms encircled the man's neck in a loose clasp, wrists crossed as though afraid he might fall. It was not until the roof of the house came into sight that sense returned to him. The small youth drew himself back, wriggling.

 

"I've changed my mind. Let's go to Uncle's residence instead."

 

".." Khun Phra Nai turned his head, a puzzled expression upon his face.

 

"There's no medicine here. If we go to Uncle's, the sisters can fetch a balm and wrap it for me." Khun Phra Nai paused so long in consideration that the mischievous one grew flustered and burst out, "I shall walk on my own, then!"

 

"You'll only worsen the injury," the man returned, his tone sharp enough to halt the smaller figure in place.

 

Strong arms hitched the one on his back into place before turning back the way they came. Kaewta hid his triumphant smirk from the man's sight. It served the man right for making his heart race. Hence, he must be teased in return!

 

The way was no short distance, and with the weight he carried, the burden soon beaded sweat from Khun Phra Nai's brow. Kaewta twisted a satisfied grin, looking up to admire birds and boughs, then lowered his gaze to study the elegant profile beside him. His slender hand unwittingly reached up to wipe the sweat from the man's temple, causing the taller man's breath to catch. He swiftly reined in his senses, keeping his stride steady, though his heart thundered like a battered drum within his chest.

 

Once they arrived at Luang Sanor's residence, the youth slipped down from the broad back and bolted up the steps as though the ankle mishap had never come to pass. Khun Phra Nai stood agape, utterly taken aback by the display for quite a moment while Kaewta darted behind the windowpane, stealing a glance through a crack at the hinge, stifling a giggle at the expression on the tall man's face. He leaned his back against the wall, eyelids falling shut, a soft sigh escaping those lips... his heart still beat with unrelenting haste.

 

"Even after being jested, you still manage to smile, Master," Saen remarked, eyeing his master, unable to suppress a flicker of resentment toward the little one who had tormented him so.

 

"Wasn't it endearing?" The young gentleman replied with a radiant smile, turning back toward the carriage Saen had drawn round to take him onward to his duties.

 

"Oh, my dear lord... shall I take you to the Western physician?" Saen called from his place beside the driver, casting a glance over his shoulder.

 

"What for?"

 

"I fear love has struck Khun Phra Nai's mind into madness. How else to explain finding Khun Kaew's antics so endearing?"

 

"How could I think otherwise, Saen? Tell me, have you ever seen Kaewta willingly come near me?" Saen shook his head as he recalled. "And have you ever seen him allow himself to be carried on my back?" This time, Saen nodded. "He wiped the sweat from my brow, too."

 

Upon hearing this, Saen was speechless. It might be, as Khun Phra Nai said. This time, Khun Kaewta's ruse was nothing but sweet indeed. Saen burst out a peal of laughter. Perhaps it was not Khun Phra Nai who had been outwitted after all. What kind of prank brought the two so near in both flesh and feeling? And another matter Khun Phra Nai had not shared with Saen was this: at that very moment, when his broad back felt the warmth of the small frame, something else passed to him that exultated him even more; that was the sound of Kaewta's heart pounding fast.

 

════[changbins_delulu_wife]════

 

: A Wee Dancer Who Can Box

 

The ruckus drew the attention of the small-framed youth, who had been perusing a display of finely woven hats. His slender eyes flew wide open as the towering forms of three or four men came barreling straight toward him. A cacophony of shrieks burst from the market women, some hitching their skirts to scurry in panic, others toppling headlong to the ground. He himself managed to slip aside by a hair's breadth. In the wake of those fugitives came another figure, one whose form struck a chord of familiarity, racing in pursuit alongside a contingent of patrol guards.

 

"Are you hurt, madam?" came a low, familiar voice as it addressed one of the market vendors who had stumbled in fright and fallen to the ground, prompting her to glance up.

 

"It's nothing. Oh! I mean...'m injured, Khun Phra Nai," she had at first meant to wave away the concern, but the moment she saw who it was that stooped to steady her, her reply altered on the instant. Worse still, that voice was cloyingly ingratiating, so much so that the onlooker could not help but wring his lips in distaste, the passing sympathy dissolving at once into scorn. 

 

Kaewta set the hat down, his appetite for shopping quite ruined. He turned on his heel, leaving the business of apprehending the thieves to the patrolmen. After walking for a while, he changed his mind and veered toward the great temple, deciding to pay his respects to the revered Buddha image before returning home. He halted abruptly, just barely avoiding a collision with a tall figure who had suddenly darted out in front of him.

 

"Oh! Forgive me, Little One. Have you seen anyone run through this way?" It was Khun Phra Nai, his tone urgent. Kaewta shook his head in reply.

 

"Have they all not been caught yet, sir?"

"One managed to escape. Quick as lightning," the young nobleman replied through clenched teeth.

 

"What villainy were they up to?"

 

"Robbed the townsfolk, no doubt. He couldn't keep away from Fan-Tan." The youth nodded without further discourse, allowing the nobleman to return to his duties. Yet scarcely had Kaewta set foot into the temple grounds when he collided with another figure with full force. This time, no apology followed. Glancing up, he recognised the man at once-one of the gamblers fleeing the patrol.

 

"Kaewta, look out!" a voice cried, jolting both the youth and the fugitive into motion. The burly rogue seized Kaewta by the neck, gripping him so tightly that he could scarcely breathe. Shock gripped him-yes, but the pain kindled an even stronger flare of fury. He stood still, feigning surrender, letting the man use him as a shield. Khun Phra Nai, the caller just now, remained transfixed, pale-faced, beside the quartet of patrolmen.

 

"Stay back!" The criminal bellowed. The youth winced as the brute's grip tightened. He shifted to align his movements with the man's steps to ease the pressure around his throat.

 

"Don't harm him!" Khun Phra Nai shouted, alarmed, as he whipped the compact flintlock pistol from his side and took aim. The thief staggered back, eyes darting for an escape. Kaewta seized the opportunity and clamped tightly around the man's thick wrist, twisting it hard in a deft motion. The agile youth spun about, forcing the larger man's arm back until he howled in pain, then delivered a sharp kick to the gut.

 

The rogue staggered, but managed to lunge forward again, grasping Kaewta's narrow shoulder just as he began to bolt. He yanked him back with such force that his small frame nearly flew. Kaewta squeezed his eyes shut as the man raised his fist, bracing for the blow. Then an unknown arm wrapped tightly around his waist to pull him back, followed by a violent, sharp thud. Khun Phra Nai pulled him back and took the blow himself, sending both of them toppling to the ground.

 

Kaewta lifted his gaze to the man who had come to his aid. Swiftly gathering his senses, he thrust the tall figure aside and twisted away just as the ruffian raised a foot to strike once more. The youth sprang upright, relying upon his smaller build and nimble agility to evade the blow, then leapt and delivered a sharp kick, sending the man stumbling backwards. With a fluid turn, Kaewta shifted to the side and swept his leg around in a deft arc, landing a full-force strike to the back of the man's thigh. The rogue let out a cry and collapsed to his knees. The remaining patrolmen stood rooted in place, wide-eyed in astonishment, until Kaewta shouted a command for them to seize the villain without delay before the rogue found his feet again.

 

"You know how to box, too?" Khun Phra Nai asked, eyes still wide with incredulity. He regarded Kaewta's slight frame and could scarcely believe the force that must lie within those slender legs.

 

"A little, sir," The youth replied with a beaming grin, dusting off his hands in a show of playful bravado.

 

"Who taught you that?"

 

"Who else but Uncle?" Kaewta laughed, offering no further elaboration. But the mirth suddenly vanished the moment he caught sight of a fresh wound along the nobleman's brow. The gentleman refused the suggestion of visiting a physician, yet Kaewta insisted on returning to the youth's home so that the injury could be properly tended.

 

"Are you certain it's all right?"

 

"What could not be all right, sir?" the small figure returned the question, as the tall man lingered at the threshold with marked reluctance.

 

"You never let me into your house."

"But today is the exception!"

 

"Hmm?" Khun Phra Nai arched a brow, visibly surprised.

 

"It's only because you're injured!" came Kaewta's curt reply, already turning to lead the way, thus missing the elated smile that formed behind him. Catching Kaewta's glance, the young nobleman at once feigned a greater pain.

 

Kaewta emerged carrying a tray of medical supplies. He beckoned the young nobleman to take a seat upon the veranda. The gentleman leaned in, his charming visage drawing close so the youth might cleanse the wound. Startled, Kaewta flinched and scooted back. Yet distance only made the task more cumbersome, for he reached out awkwardly and strained his arm. At last, there was no choice but to draw nearer once more. The ungraceful effort elicited a soft chuckle from the man before him.

 

"What is it you find so amusing?" Not only did he question, but he also pressed down a little too hard on the wound, prompting the other to wince and howl from pain.

 

"Ow! That hurts!"

"So, what are you laughing at?"

 

"I wasn't."

 

"Still, you lie! Or else, I shall stop treating your wound now!" Kaewta huffed, moving at once to gather the supplies. Khun Phra Nai barely caught hold of the youth's hand in time.

 

"Would you truly send me away, bleeding, as I am?" Kaewta paused mid-motion once the man implored. With a sigh, he turned. Those arresting, beseeching eyes that met his gaze disarmed him completely. The youth sank back down, resumed his place, and set about tending the wound once more, muttering inwardly that he spared him mercy only because the man was hurt.

 

Khun Phra Nai smiled at the recollection once the lovely one had dressed his wound. That cherubic face was scarcely a handspan away as he leaned in to treat the cut. He was so near that the faintest trace of scented powder clinging to the youth's skin drifted up to him. Indulging himself, he inhaled it into his lungs, only to be jolted from his reverie by a series of pointed dabs. The sting flared; the skin swelled, but it was worth every bit if it meant he could have Kaewta nearer.

 

Pondering back to the mischief and biting tongue of the young one, he couldn't help but be endeared. However fierce his words, however often he sent Khun Phra Nai away with pointed scorn, yet the moment he so much as feigned pain, Kaewta would come rushing to his side. That pretty face would crease with worry as the rose-hued lips would fire off questions, asking whether it hurt. Khun Phra Nai longed to tell him that there was no need for any of it. His pain had vanished the instant Kaewta asked after him with such concern; all pain had expelled without a trace. His Kaewta... with his fierce words and kind heart. Each act only made him fall a hundredfold deeper than before.

 

Khun Phra Nai later learned that Kaewta had been trained in Thai boxing. He could hold his own in single combat well enough, though he lacked the burly physique of other men. Thus, he was taught to read the body, to strike where his opponent's weakest points were, and to aim for a swift, decisive blow. Umm... the youth was not only a performer, but a boxer in truth.

 

════[changbins_delulu_wife]════

 

: Jealousy

 

Kaewta halted mid-step upon glimpsing someone seated within the house. Once realising that he had returned, the visitor sprang to his feet, offered a courteous wai in farewell, and seized a cloth bundle. Kaewta, who hadn't yet gathered his wits, was swept aloft by the strong arms; Khun Phra Nai lifted him onto horseback and galloped swiftly toward the shadowed edge of the woods.

 

"W-wait! What is the meaning of this, sir?" he stammered as he shifted to find his balance, both arms flying to clutch the man's firm arm for fear of toppling from the saddle before ever learning their destination.

 

"Abduction," came the deep reply.

"Abduction?"

 

"Yes. I have already sought your mother's consent."

 

"What?" Abduction, with my mother's consent? What manner of abduction was this? Kaewta was struck entirely dumb; first, for he could not make heads or tails of the situation, and second, for the man's bewildering, outlandish method. Their destination proved to be the very same cottage where Khun Phra Nai had once taken refuge after fleeing the bandits who had so cruelly assailed him. Yet this time, it seemed he came fully prepared: dried provisions, spare garments, and all manner of necessities lay neatly in readiness.

 

Kaewta sat with arms folded, face sullen, proclaiming displeasure. He offered no aid while the young master set about preparing supper and arranging their sleeping quarters. Even when coaxed to eat, he refused to serve himself, nor did he deign to glance in the other's direction.

 

"Come. Eat something first. Once your belly is full, you may resume your sulking," Khun Phra Nai said gently. At this, Kaewta's eyes turned upon him in a deep, dark glare.

 

"I am not sulking. I am angry!"

"Then be angry after you have eaten," the man answered, calmly placing a portion of his own cooking upon Kaewta's plate. A faint smile lingered on his lips, his gaze fond as it rested upon the youth's petulance, already turning in his mind the surest way to coax forgiveness from one so sweetly aggrieved.

 

Khun Phra Nai stopped short when he met with that smouldering glare. He sighed and kept striding forward, but was halted by Kaewta's raised hand; the youth pointed sharply toward the stream and commanded him not to take a single step into the water. The tall figure assured himself that this prohibition was born not of anger, but rather of bashfulness. Those smooth cheeks had taken on the blush of rose, and the delicate ears glowed crimson before their owner sank into the stream up to his fine-boned shoulders, turning his back to the man on the bank. A smile 

curved Khun Phra Nai's lips as he began to wade into the water.

 

"I said, do not come down!" the youth called, not granting him so much as a glance. The young master drank in that defiance and broke into a broad grin, his eyes gleaming. Then he sank behind him, wrapping both arms about the narrow waist and drawing the slender body into a firm embrace.

 

"How am I to speak with you if I do not come down, hmm?"

"We can talk... later."

 

"No, I cannot wait. The longer I delay, the longer you will be cross with me."

 

"-.." The sweet, husky voice stammered as a warm palm began its slow, languid journey across silken skin. Khun Phra Nai pressed a tender kiss to the smooth temple, tracing downward to the scented hollow of his neck and slope of his shoulder, where he nipped and kissed until Kaewta instinctively shrank back, trembling with a heady shiver.

 

The stream's once-cool waters now seethed with heat, as the smaller frame was enveloped in a searing embrace. The young master adorned him with kisses, ardent, relentless, to convey his apology until Kaewta melted in surrender. The youth tried hard not to let breathy moans escape when the tall figure encircled him while his fingertips explored every contour. He cupped, and brushed, and stirred every tender point until fair skin blushed crimson from head to heel.

 

With a gentle turn, the man brought the smaller one to face him. Two forms wrapped around one another once more. Khun Phra Nai's large hands guided Kaewta's slender legs around his waist before joining their bodies in a seamless, restless, and breathless invasion. Water splashed wildly about the streambed. That fierce, tight cavity clutched and swallowed hungrily all that thrust inward. Khun Phra Nai groaned low in his throat, clenched his jaw, and drove forward with a desperate, unrelenting force that nearly unravelled Kaewta's senses. 

 

The delicate face tilted heavenward, dewy eyes hazed with tears, swimming and unfocused. His swollen lips parted, panting, before a high-pitched, shivering cry spilt forth at the final peak. Lashes fluttered open. Warmth encased him like a cocoon. He burrowed instinctively, seeking refuge to escape the chill of the night air, only to jolt awake as a heated palm came to rest at the small of his back.

 

Kaewta shot upright at once, wincing from the sudden ache below. The man who had held him stirred, sitting up and pulling his beloved close once more. "Where are you going, Little One?"

 

"I am leaving!" Kaewta jerked his arm free, his voice keen, as he scrambled to dress in hurried awkwardness.

 

"It's late now."

"I shall leave!"

 

"Kaewta.."

 

"You know well I have an important engagement at dawn! Why would you toy with me so?" His voice quivered, heavy with reproach. He could not fathom what impulse had driven the young master to act so. He waited, hoping for some explanation. But instead, Khun Phra Nai drew him once more into pleasures so consuming that Kaewta lost all grasp of reason, forgetting everything else entirely.

 

"Because I know full well what that engagement is, thus I stole you away like this!"

 

"Pardon me?" The youth turned to look at the tall figure in disbelief. He could scarcely fathom that Khun Phra Nai would do such a thing, take him away, knowing he had an important engagement tomorrow.

 

"The Department of Khon has summoned you to perform, hasn't it? That is the exact reason I have done this."

 

"What has the Department of Khon to do with this?" Kaewta glanced upward at the man who approached him and seized his hand, holding fast without the slightest intent to release it.

"Because I do not wish you to go there!"

"And why is that?"

 

"I am jealous...."

 

"Eh?" Kaewta wondered if his ears had deceived him. He could not quite follow the words.

 

"Why, they mean to have you play the heroine's part. And I have heard tell that the actor for the hero's role this time is strikingly handsome, fair; it is said that all the palace ladies have lost their hearts to him."

 

Khun Phra Nai spoke as he swept the smaller figure into a possessive embrace, clasping him so tightly that the utterly bewildered youth could not even stir, but let himself be engulfed within those stalwart arms.

 

"Is that the whole of your reason?" came the soft, mellifluous question.

"It is not trifling in the least! It is my anxiety, that is what it is!"

 

"So, you do not trust me, is that it? No matter how comely that man might be, I am hardly the sort to fall for someone at a mere glance!" Kaewta lifted his arm and struck the broad back soundly in protest.

 

"It is not that I mistrust you. I do not trust others."

"Hm?"

 

"When you are far too charming, I fear someone will fall for you." That answer left Kaewta quite at a loss. He stood still, allowing Khun Phra Nai to hold him, while a searing warmth rose to his cheeks. In his chest, his heart beat a rapid, unreasoned joy. He only knew that he was smiling far too broadly. His slender arms lifted to encircle the broad back, returning the embrace in earnest.

 

"Hm."

"In that case, I suppose I can allow myself to be abducted for another day."

Kaewta did not say he had meant to refuse the Department of Khon from the start, which explains his lack of protest from the moment they arrived.

 

════[changbins_delulu_wife]════

 

: Protective

 

When the piphat ensemble music came to a close, the slender figure in a Chui Chai costume glided behind the curtain amid a ceaseless murmur of voices. The one who caught those words knit his brows, ill-pleased. He let out a long breath and pondered what he ought to do. The clearer the crowd's remarks rang, the more his heart smouldered as though stoked with flame.

 

*Is that Chui Chai dancer one of the Royal Maori Department's own? Is she exceedingly lovely? I truly wish to know what that Chui Chai maiden is called.'

 

"If we were to ask Luang Sanor, might we learn it?' And even,'..! shall woo that Chui Chai maiden and make her mistress of my family?

 

Those words heaped upon his chest like a towering blaze, until Khun Phra Nai nearly writhed with jealousy. He sprang up at once, made straight for the dancers' precinct behind the curtain, and, seeing that the one he sought had just finished changing. Upon being asked whether there would be no further performance, he drew close and hauled the other out.

 

"Khun Yai! Where are we going, sir?" the sweet voice asked, struggling not to be hauled along by the taller figure.

 

"I will hide you away, Kaewta."

 

"Pardon?" The youth lifted his brows at that, suspecting he had misheard such a strange statement.

 

"I will hide Kaewta away. No more. I won't let you perform the Chui Chai dance anymore!" Khun Phra Nai turned to answer, his handsome face clouded in displeasure.

 

"If Kaew does not dance, then who will?" He asked it with a smile, thinking the man before him must surely be entertaining some odd notion.

 

"Let others dance. Khun Luang's troupe has no lack of dancers. Why must you alone be the one to dance Chui Chai?"

 

"I fear the one who performs the Chui Chai dance best appears to be Kaew, sir," Kaewta teased, making the listener's face fall all the more. The slight figure stepped in close and lifted his face to the scowling countenance of the ill-tempered man.

 

"But I am jealous!"

 

"And what will Khun Phra Nai do about it, sir?" The youth laughed at that remark. Just as he had expected, Khun Phra Nai truly meant to be jealous of him.

 

"I do not wish Kaewta to dance Chui Chai again. See, everyone is already besotted with the winsome-visaged little Brahmin dancer. I am jealous to no small degree, don't you know?" The young man released the slender wrist only to enfold the willowy form against his chest instead.

 

"Mm. I have known it today." 

 

"Now that you know, find someone to dance in your stead." It was an imperious command, at which the listener could only smile.

"But..."

 

"I am jealous!" Kaewta smothered his laughter until his shoulders shook. The owner of the embrace lifted his brows, thinking he had made the dainty youth weep; he released him in haste and tipped up the rounded chin to soothe him. "Are you not crying, Little One?"

 

"Crying? Why should Kaew cry over a trifle like this, sir?"

 

"In that case, will you cease dancing Chui Chai or not?" Expectation gleamed in those fine eyes. The youth curved a sly smile, feigning thought and refusing to answer. "If you still wish to dance Chui Chai, then dance for me alone. Do not go and dance for others any longer. As it is, I am so jealous of you I am near losing my wits."

 

Kaewta smiled broadly. He did not answer, but stepped forward to embrace the tall figure instead. From that day forth, Kaewta no longer performed the Chui Chai, save only before the presence of His Highness. Yet he told the other nothing; in truth, even had Khun Phra Nai not asked, he had intended that performance

to be his last. He would perform nowhere else, save for dancing before His Highness. For he had already trained the other dancers to perform Chui Chai with ease. 

 

In the past, there had been only he and Uncle Luang Sanor, who bore His Highness's command to devise the choreography; thus, he had grown more adept than any. Once he had passed it on to others to good effect, he withdrew his hand.

Well then, to see that Khun Phra Nai assume such a charming sulk was, in truth, rather endearing.

 

════[changbins_delulu_wife]════

 

: In Your Honour

 

The inquisitive gaze fastened unwaveringly upon the son, setting the one under scrutiny ill at ease; when he chanced a look at his mother, his head dropped at once, unsure how to compose his countenance.

 

"Kaewta, may I ask you something? Speak truly."

"What is it, Mother?" The youth lifted his face.

 

"You and Khun Phra Nai; how far has the affair gone?

 

"Mother!" The smooth cheeks flushed scarlet to the very tips of his ears, so hot he longed to burrow his face into the floorboards and flee. Heavens, what was his mother inquiring?! The youth wrung his own hands, far too abashed to answer.

 

"Well?" Payom pressed.

"I"

 

"You are already Khun Phra Nai's wife, aren't you?"

 

"Oi, Mother!" Now, besides his face burning as though seared by flame, his heart pounded as though it would burst forth. Wife? What talk was this?!

 

"Yes or no?"

 

In the end, the youth could only nod, unable to elude such a direct question. Besides, oftentimes when Khun Yai came to spend the night in this house, his mother would withdraw to sleep at Luang Sanor's rehearsal dorm. If she didn't know, it would have been more surprising.

 

Payom moved closer to her son. A timeworn hand tilted up his rounded chin, and the other hand smoothed his fair cheek with tender fondness. She smiled fondly. To say that her son was both comely and dear would be no lie, for his skin was fine and white, his eyes long-lidded and jet-black, his nose softly rounded and well-shaped. With features so winsome as these, it was no wonder that the nobleman had loved him from the very first glance.

 

"Odd as it may seem, I would have you know: I love you very much."

"I love you too, Mother." He knew well how deeply his mother loved him; otherwise, she would never have allowed her only son to have a male paramour. Still, he and Khun Phra Nai shared our requited love; thus, his mother accepted what his heart had chosen.

 

"Mm. Though it is not quite proper by custom, since your love cannot stand forth openly, yet, you bear the name of 'wife'..." His smooth cheeks pinked again at his mother's words. "Which means you must attend upon Khun Phra Nai likewise."

 

"Hmm?"

 

The tall figure closed the book in his hand and walked toward the narrow bed. He lifted the champaca blossom on the pillow to his nose and smiled.

 

"What is it?" he asked the small figure when that one opened the door and halted at the foot of the bed. If his eyes did not deceive him, he seemed to catch a faint red bloom upon those smooth cheeks.

 

"Khun Yai, are you going to sleep yet?"

 

"Mm. I was just about to turn in," the young man replied as he lay down. He spread a thin silken coverlet over himself and lay still, waiting to see what his darling intended. The small figure climbed up to sit upon the bed; long, slender eyes met his, drawing a fond smile to his lips. Before he could ask, fair hands rose in a wai at the chest, ...and then he stooped to prostrate himself at the man's feet.

The young aristocrat sprang up to sit at once, watching that act with a heart gone leaping. He smiled wide with his mouth, with his eyes, with his heart. Broad hands descended to gather the small hands of the one bowed before him.

 

"Why do this?" he asked, though he knew full well what such an act betokened. Kaewta lowered his face till his chin touched his chest; the smooth cheeks flushed lovelier still, and the young man tilted up that rounded chin to catch his gaze.

 

"l..."

"What is it?"

 

"..."The small figure straightened and breathed a low whisper at his ear. When Khun Phra Nai heard, he laughed aloud, then swept his arms round the slight body, reclined, letting his darling lie across him. 

 

"I am truly glad."

"About what?" came the soft reply.

 

He leaned in to whisper back. The smaller one, face aflame, lifted a hand to thump that broad chest once, to banish his shyness. Strong arms cinched him closer, and he pressed a kiss upon the smooth brow with fond affection. What was it that Kaewta had whispered to him? ...The wife's prostration at her husband's feet...

And what did he whisper in return to Kaewta? ...That he was blessed indeed to have so sweet a wife… He would love, cherish, shield, and keep Kaewta with all that he was, with heart, with life, with the whole of his love. He would be a good husband, love no one but him, hold Kaewta close like this and let him go nowhere, remain together until their final breath, worthy of the act this youth had accorded him.

 

Kaewta had honoured him, revered him as the master of his life, the keeper of his heart, and the head of their family. Bowed at his feet for love, with all his heart.

The more Kaewta did thus, the more he would love him, so smitten he could scarcely lift his head.

 

════[changbins_delulu_wife]════

 

: Sit For a Portrait

 

"Kaewta. Tomorrow, please dress yourself finely."

 

"Where are we bound, sir?" he lifted his face to inquire, but the other only smiled and gave no answer. To this day, he has learned why Khun Yai bade him dress well. When he raised his eyes to read the sign, he saw: Thongdee's Portrait Rooms.

 

"No, sir, I won't!" The youth tried to twist his wrist free of Khun Phra Nai's grasp. He had been lulled into the place. Startled, Kaewta made as if to flee when his waist was caught, and he was set to stand beside the tall figure before the camera.

 

"Kaewta, I would keep a portrait of the two of us. Please, let us have one together, Little One." The deep voice entreated, earning him a withering look; yet he would not yield and wrenched at the captured wrist until it smarted. Fearing he might hurt him, Khun Phra Nai released his hand, and at once the youth turned to bolt-only to be forestalled by one who knew his ways; the tall figure caught the slender waist and clasped him fast.

 

"Khun Yai!" Kaewta looked anxiously about, fearing others might see. The 'others' proved to be the Portrait Rooms owner himself, who obligingly feigned a gaze elsewhere.

 

"Will you yield of your own grace? If not, I shall have Thongdee take our picture with me holding you thus." At this, the youth stiffened; he turned pleading eyes upon that handsome face.

 

"No, sir." Smooth cheeks flushed; the small ears reddened to the very neck, so that the teaser could not help but feel fond. In the instant before the shopkeeper turned back, he bent and stole a quick, gossamer kiss from those vermilion lips, unable to restrain himself, so that the flushed cheeks deepened yet redder.

 

"Please, Kaewta." The honeyed entreaty softened the youth's heart; he inclined his head. The Khun Phra Nai seated himself upon the chair and arranged the posture toward the camera; Kaewta stood dithering, too shy of the shopkeeper's gaze to venture near, so that Khun Phra Nai had to rise more than once before he managed to draw him to stand beside that chair.

 

The youth regarded the camera with a touch of fright mingled with bashfulness; even so, Khun Phra Nai smiled in quiet felicity. The portrait that came of it showed Khun Phra Nai seated in the chair and Kaewta standing at his side, their fingertips lightly twined. The gentleman did not tell Kaewta that, besides the small print framed upon his writing desk, he meant to enlarge that photograph to a size sufficiently grand to hang upon the wall in the White Manor. Afterwards, it was Saen who set the picture upon the wall when the White Manor stood completed, as Khun Phra Nai desired.

 

════[changbins_delulu_wife]════

 

: Body, Heart, and Soul

 

The man regarded his reflection in stillness, letting his eyes travel over every feature before he let out a sigh. Though he might insist that this body was not his, each time he looked into the mirror, he could not deny that the image cast back was himself. In his heart, he often begged forgiveness from the spirit that had first belonged to this body, yet even so, he could not lighten the burden of that guilt.

Apart from their visages and forms being the same, there was another likeness: the heart, ...that bestowed upon the same person.

 

The tall figure took up the flute he had only lately brought into the little house and walked to the pavilion by the water. Someone was intently drawing pencil lines on paper. He glanced at the glass of butterfly pea drink and the alua sweets and smiled. It seemed Mother Chan Pen feared her son might go hungry; neither drink nor sweets were ever in short supply.

 

The small figure did not turn to look, and the young man offered no greeting. He lowered himself to sit opposite and quietly studied that smooth face. After a moment, he saw those fair cheeks slowly deepen in colour. The young man smiled.

The flute rose to his lips; a dulcet, ringing strain unfurled. His steadfast gaze did not leave that delicate, smooth face. He played a lullaby, choosing only soft, tender airs for the darling to hear. Those slender eyes stole a glance before ducking behind the canvas to conceal a shy smile. Yet every time he forgot himself, he would steal another glance at that handsome face. Until the afternoon wore on, his cheeks burned as though aflame. At length, Kaewta set down his pencil and pushed the canvas aside.

 

"Perhaps there is some oddity in Kaew's face."

"Hm?" The young man lifted the flute from his lips and arched a brow.

 

"Because Khun Yai does nothing but stare at me..."

"Why, I am only feasting my eyes to make up for lost time."

 

".." At this, the small figure fell still, then smiled and edged to sit pressed close to the stalwart frame, tilting his face to rest upon the broad shoulder.

 

"Kaewta."

"Yes."

 

"Am I... still who I am?"

 

Kaewta lifted his face, meeting the onyx eyes in a deep gaze. Since that day, it wasn't that he did not know what troubled Khun Phra Nai. Once he learned the truth, that Khun Phra Nai dwelled in Ajarn Prem's body, he could no longer master any feeling in his heart. Khun Phra Nai had old treasure laid by, enough to raise the White Manor anew in short order and true to the very last detail. He and his mother returned to the White Manor. After Khun Phra Nai formally sought Mother's hand for Kaewta, Ruedee's family helped arrange a modest celebration so that the two of them might truly become one family. Yet in these past days, his Khun Yai seemed unable to cast off his sorrow. He knew the cause well. After looking into the mirror, that handsome face would often blush and grow still for a long while. Kaewta raised a hand to cradle the man's roughened cheek and smiled.

 

"Khun Yai, do you know what you have that sets you apart from Ajarn Prem?" The tall figure shook his head, and the youth smiled in fondness. "Your eyes are not like his."

 

"My eyes?"

 

"Yes. Ajarn Prem's eyes are brown with a playful glint, while yours are onyx, tinged with sweetness."

 

"Hmm." The dark brows lifted at that, and his full lips slowly curved.

"Your way of speaking, your demeanour-they differ as well."

 

"And what else?"

"Thus, the one I see now is not Ajar. Prem."

 

"Then who is it?" the young man teased. He tried his utmost to hold back a smile; his chest brimmed to bursting.

 

"Hmm, indeed-who might it be?" The small one tapped a finger to his chin in feigned thought.

 

"Answer me quickly," the tall figure urged. "Otherwise..."

"And otherwise what?" Kaewta tipped up his chin, mischief undisguised in his eyes.

 

"Otherwise, I shall do this." The handsome face dipped swiftly. He claimed the slender lips, working them softly so that the bearer of that smooth face closed his eyes to answer the sweet caress; his tongue glided in tender savour. He deepened the kiss again and again, so long that the small figure grew pliant and yielding and nestled upon the broad chest. But the next heartbeat, a firm hand tipped the small chin up once more. The youth's eyes flew wide, for he had become the one being teased. Urgh, spare me some time to breathe, sir." The sweet voice whispered.

 

"Then answer my question, quickly." The deep, tremulous voice asked out close to the slender lips, in teasing provocation. He nipped lightly at the lower lip until the youth startled. "Mm." With his mouth thus occupied, how was he to answer! The small one shot him a scathing glare; the high-bridged nose nuzzled the amber-scented hollow beside his cheek at the neck, then returned to poise close to the now-swollen lips once more.

 

"Answer now."

 

*In Kaew's eyes, the one before me is Khun Phra Nai, my Khun Yai, and no other." No sooner had the words ended than the slender lips were pressed in a kiss again by one who could restrain himself no longer. He teased the tip of his tongue in ardent incursion for but a moment; then the tempest of sweetness eased into languor. He drew back, murmuring to the lovely one:

 

"How it enlivens my heart." And then a new kiss began once more.

 

════[changbins_delulu_wife]════

 

: Sone - Saen

 

The slight figure drew his long-sleeved shirt close for warmth. He watched the tiny lights circling before him and smiled. A warm glass of milk pressed close to his smooth cheek, making him jolt before strong arms came round him from behind.

After returning from meetings in Singapore and managing all the tangle of work, Phrawut hauled him out of the company and drove him straight to a resort near Amphawa. This resort was the man's first project, which he handled alone; no interference from his father. It was a conservation-minded resort and impressively renowned.

 

This house was a main one, set a fair distance from the resort proper. Tall cork trees erected before it, their branches alive with fireflies that glittered without cease. The sound of motorboats passing back and forth could be heard, not too loud.

 

"The dew will be heavy soon."

 

"Seeing this makes me think of when we went to Saen's house," Kaewta said, taking the glass of milk.

 

"That was the first time I kissed you." The youth let out a soft laugh at those words.

 

"I can't remember where Saen's house was."

"The very same place as this."

"Really?" Kaewta turned to the handsome face, finding it hard to believe. The young man laughed at that look and nodded in response.

 

"Indeed. From the moment I could remember the past, I kept searching for this place. Luckily, Saen's descendants hadn't sold the land here before I found it."

 

"And how did Khun Yai know it was the same place? It might not be." Kaewta said. He still could not bring himself to believe that, after so long, Saen's house would still be standing tall.

 

"The original house is gone. Saen's grandchildren and great-grandchildren rebuilt it more than once; it underwent significant changes. I roughly remembered it was here, so I came to ask about it and buy it back. And what confirmed that it was Saen's old house was a photograph."

 

"A photograph?"

 

"Yes. A photograph of us from the past. I found it in the White Manor; it was the very same as the one that had been at Saen's house. So, his descendants agreed to sell this plot to me." Kaewta nodded at that.

 

"I don't know where Saen is now. If we could reunite, it would be terrific indeed."

"But we're already reunited."

 

"Hm?"

 

"Together every day, this close." Phrawut smiled. "Saen has a scar encircling his right arm." He paused. Kaewta's eyes flew wide.

 

"Don't tell me... Father!"

 

"Exactly, Saen was born again as Uncle. That birthmark around the right arm confirms it nicely. Oh, and another proof is how fiercely your father, Khun Sone, guards you." The young man laughed at the astonishment before him and, seizing the moment, pressed a kiss to those well-shaped lips, earning several thumps on his broad shoulder.

 

Amidst the glow of little fireflies, they stood once more where it had all begun; kissed, folded one another into an embrace, and let the love that had never been severed carry on until their last breath.

 

Though earth be broken, though the heavens fall,

I shall not cease to love thee, not at all.

Though in the deepest river thou shouldst hide, 

I'll wish to meet thee still and seek the tide.

Though thou become the vast and soundless sea,

I'll be thy fish and swim to find but thee.

Though thou become a lotus, pure and fair,

I'll be the little bug that lingers there

To gaze upon the tender heart within.

If thou become a beautiful, still cave,

pi he the swan-our pair made ever brave

I do but swear to follow, guard, and true,

To be thy lover every life anew.