Content Warning: This work is intended for mature (NC17) audiences. If you are younger, please kindly leave this site.
~~~
In the middle of a field that stretched as far as the eye could see, the wind blew, causing the leaves to rustle and sending fluffy, white cotton blossoms floating into the air, scattering tiny fibers everywhere. And within that soft comfort, a young man lay on the carpet of grass, opening his eyes to gaze absently at the vivid, bright sky.
How long had he been here?
He did not know. He did not know how long it had been.
Graphic felt light, comfortable, and the air was so warm and pleasant that he could drift off to sleep at any moment. But he did not sleep. He remained lying still, looking at the sky, and asking himself who he was, what he was doing here, and whether he had a place to return to.
It is so warm. I want to sleep... I want to sleep forever, Graphic thought.
Please, wake up. Wake up, Graphic... a voice pleaded.
It is so damn annoying. Just as I am about to sleep, this bloody fucking person keeps waking me up, Graphic told himself, as he had heard this voice countless times. Whenever he was about to drift off, this voice would wake him, forcing him to open his eyes to the harshly bright sky once more, until he wondered... who was calling him?
I beg you, do not fall asleep like this... the voice called again.
Who was calling him with such a longing tone that it made his heart tremble? Who made him want to look around to see if that person was nearby? Who wanted him to return?
As if. Could it be that there is someone in my life who actually needs me? the young man asked himself, trying to shut out those voices from his head. He wanted to close his eyes and rest finally.
I am sorry. Do not leave me.... the voice cried.
The person was crying. That person was crying.
His slender frame wanted to get up and look, but he had no strength. He only knew that the person calling him was crying, was shedding tears for him. But no matter how hard he racked his brains, the young man could not think of anyone who would shed tears for someone like him. He could not remember anything, only knowing that he was someone nobody wanted.
A life with no one... why continue living it? he wondered.
Do not leave me like this, you stubborn youth.... the voice called.
Why? Graphic thought. Do you not want him? Then why call for him? You want to throw him far from your sight, so how can you cry and beg him not to go far?
And who is calling? Who is it that likes to throw him far away... who?
His dazed eyes blinked slowly, as if the young man was becoming aware, but his body still did not move. He was still thinking, still trying to think of who had called him a stubborn youth, who had told him he was an annoying fucker, who had said he made life complicated and chaotic.
The more Graphic thought, and thought, and thought.
He should not know anything anymore, he should be able to rest, but why... were tears flowing?
Tears flowed from both eyes, falling onto his cheeks, wetting them. The young man wondered if these were his tears, or whose tears they really were. Why was water falling from the sky, waking him so he could not sleep? And also... the pulling on his hand.
Graphic could not see his own hand. He only felt that someone was holding it tightly, clasped between two warm hands. It made his heart, which should have been calm, beat faster. He could barely breathe, and he could not help but feel that this warmth was familiar.
Someone had held his hand like this before.
Someone had used these two hands to shield him.
This temperature was so familiar it made his heart tremble. And his lips, which had not spoken for many days, began to move.
"Phîi... Pakin...." Graphic murmured.
The moment that name escaped his lips, countless memories flooded into his mind, accompanied by tears that fell drop after drop down his cheeks.
He remembered who he was now. And he remembered who he... loved.
Do you still need me? Do you still need me, right? he thought.
This was the question that made the young man try to move, wiggling his fingertips slowly, but finding them stiff. But he had to try harder. If the voice calling him belonged to that man, if the water falling from the sky were that man's tears, he would go back.
No matter how painful, I will make it back! Graphic resolved. Phîi Pakin, do you still need me? Do you still need me...
"Phîi, Pakin...." he whispered.
“Graphic!!! Graphic is awake!!!” a voice shouted.
At first, Graphic did not know whose voice was shouting for him, because the moment he opened his eyes, it was not just the vivid sky, but a bright white light that flooded his vision, blurring it. Meanwhile, the warm comfort was transforming into a severely painful agony that gnawed throughout his entire body. At that time, he only knew that his lips were calling out for one person alone.
“Phîi Pakin... Phîi...” Graphic gasped.
“Graphic! Graphic, can you hear me?” Janjao cried. “Someone, Graphic is awake, Graphic is awake!!!"
Amid the blurred vision, the young man saw tears. They were not the tears of the person he most desired to see, but they were from his closest friend, who leaned her face close. Both of her eyes were red and swollen, clear tears falling and landing on his cheeks as she frantically called for the nurses outside to come check his condition.
“Jan...jao...” Graphic managed to say.
“Graphic, it is me,” Janjao said, sobbing. “I thought Graphic... hic... would not wake up, would not wake up at all.”
His close friend held his hand tightly, sobbing so hard her body shook, trying to form sentences. The young man realized his condition must have been truly terrible for Janjao to cry as if her heart was breaking like this.
Graphic knew his friend was worried, but he only asked...
“Phîi Pakin.... Phîi Pakin.... is... where.....” he pleaded.
“Graphic, listen...” the young woman, her face covered in tears, was too choked up to speak. But before she could answer the injured person further, a group of doctors and nurses rushed in, hurriedly checking the condition of the important person who had miraculously survived. Janjao could only retreat to the far end of the room, cover her mouth with her hand, and cry with all her might.
Her friend was awake. He was awake. But how could she tell him... How could she tell him that man had not visited even a single time?
How should I answer the person calling out for that heartless-person? she thought. Why? Why did you not visit Graphic? Did Graphic end up like this because of you? Please, do not hurt Janjao's friend any more than this.
***
“Why is Kin still here?” Win demanded.
“I have to work,” Pakin replied.
“But Graphic is awake!!!" Win shouted.
Inside the office of the skyscraper, Phawit had just slammed the door to the large executive office with a resounding, shaking bang, ignoring Panchai's attempts to stop him. He then charged in and slammed his hands down on the desk of the man known as his Phîi, demanding an answer with displeasure. The person listening replied calmly... he had to work.
Of course, this made Win furious almost to the point of madness. He glared at his relative as if he wanted to tear him apart, and grew even angrier when Pakin turned back to focus on the documents left over from the race that had ended several days prior.
This event had been highly successful for him. Even though for the remaining days, the guests did not see the face of the host at all, the profits were enormous, enough to pay off the debt he had borrowed from his Phô years ago. Furthermore, there were requests for him to hold another event, and even requests to rent the entire island for private races.
All of this kept Pakin busy. But for the person who had barged in... it was not so busy that he could not spare time to see another youth.
Thump.
Crash!!!
“Are you listening to me or not!!!” Win yelled. Suddenly, the one who held no fear for his Phîi snatched the documents from his hands and tore them up in front of him, before asking in a very strong voice. Pakin looked up at his Nong, his sharp eyes flashing a warning.
“Do not think I will not dare to throw you out,” Pakin said.
“Are you going to throw me out like you threw Graphic out of your life?” Win challenged.
The two cousins stared at each other silently, as if a war was about to begin. And Pakin, who never conceded, was the one who turned his face away to look at the remaining documents.
“If you are finished, you can leave now,” Pakin stated.
“Phîi Pakin!!!" Win shouted.
If the time Pakin called his Nong by his real name meant he was serious, then the time Phawit called his Phîi using 'Phîi' and his full name meant he was extremely angry and did not care about anyone. However, that did not faze the older man, because he still affirmed the same statement.
“You can go back now. I have work to do,” Pakin said.
Thump.
The listener clenched both his hands tightly, staring at his Phîi with a brilliant gaze filled with sorrow.
Win felt sorry for another young man, the one he had heard was now awake after being unconscious for ten full days.
How hurt would Graphic be if he knew the person he loved so much, for whom he had given his all, was being this cold to him? Moreover, he did not understand, he did not understand at all where the man who had cried outside the emergency room had gone. The man who was desperate over the body drenched in blood, who had even offered to cancel the event he had put all his effort into, just to save the other youth's life.
Why had he not seen that man again?
Now there was only the same coldly-aloof and ruthless Pakin from before Graphic had moved into the house.
The man who cared about nothing but his own benefit.
“I do not understand,” Win said.
He only said this. Finally, Win asked in a hoarse, dry voice, causing the other man to look up and meet his eyes.
“You do not need to understand,” Pakin replied.
The listener could not smile, could not cry, could not say anything. He could only take a deep breath, trying to suppress the erupting anger. Of course, he was angrier at the man in front of him than at the person who had hurt him!
“You are just a person without a heart,” Win spat.
The young model said this as his final words before turning around and striding out of the office, not wanting to see the face of a man who could be this heartless, along with his tears. But they were tears of sorrow for someone else, still lying in the hospital.
Win had gotten to know Janjao at Graphic's school, but had only exchanged phone numbers a few days ago... the young woman who came to visit her friend every day since the young man had been transferred to be a patient at a private hospital in the capital.
That youth who had called him, crying, saying...
Phîi Win, Graphic wants to see Phîi Pakin. Can you bring Phîi Pakin? I beg you. I do not want to see Graphic cry.
The young woman who truly cried for Graphic.
“I will see you out,” Panchai offered.
“No need. I do not want to see your face!” Win said to Panchai in a strong voice, then left the building alone. Right now, he did not want to see the faces of either his boss or his subordinate... the two men who were equally heartless.
At the same time, the moment the office door closed, the man accused of having no heart stopped everything. His still, expressionless face, which seemed indifferent to the world, changed into one filled with pain. Both hands pushed the documents away from his sight as he leaned his head back against the chair, utterly exhausted.
Graphic was awake. That youth had returned to life.
This was the only good news he had received today.
Truthfully, Pakin was not unfeeling. He was sure he felt more than everyone else who had cried for Graphic combined. But how could he move? How could he have the face to go see him?
He was the cause of the entire incident.
If Graphic stayed by his side, an event like this would happen again.
Staying by my side, two lives are not enough, Pakin thought. Now that youth has used up one life. I will not allow myself to take away the second life, the chance for Graphic to live his life in this world.
Now the old thought had returned. The thought that... he must keep him at a distance.
He had tried to avoid that-brat since graduating and returning to Thailand, and plunging into the dark business world, because he did not want to drag him into this side of the world. And what was he thinking back then, to abandon that thought, telling himself he could protect him? To hell with it. If he wanted him, he would keep him by his side. But this incident proved that Pakin was not a god.
He could not determine anyone's destiny.
If you love... you must push them away, he concluded.
At this time, even though his Phô had promised to protect that youth's life from his adversary, it was not as if he had only one enemy. The young man still had many other people who wanted to bring him down and trample him into the ground. If he stubbornly brought Graphic back to his side, in the end, the person he loved most would die before his eyes.
Pakin could not bear it. The second he saw the blood-soaked body, he knew how much he loved him.
Loved him so much it was hard to believe this selfish man could love.
Now everyone was probably happy that Krittitee was awake. But the person who most wanted to hold him in his arms was him.
The moment he found out, his heart felt as if it had been released, followed by a longing to hold him tight, to kiss his entire face, to cradle him tenderly, and to whisper that he loved him with all his heart. But... he could not.
Who said this man was so cold he never showed his face to visit the other youth? It was not true.
“You should have told Khun Win,” Panchai said.
“Why tell him?” Pakin replied. “If I tell him, he will just go tell that youth.” Panchai stepped in, speaking politely. The man who was his boss shook his head, still closing his eyes wearily.
Yes. Every evening, after visiting hours were over, after work ended, this man secretly went to keep vigil every night.
Pakin held the young man's hand every day, whispering for him to wake up every night. And a real man's tears flowed every time he saw the unconscious body hovering between life and death.
The doctor said he was safe, but the person who was safe would not wake up.
Everyone thought Graphic might be a sleeping prince, but he did not believe it. He still begged for him to wake up, still kissed his lips hoping he would awaken from the prince's kiss. But he was not a prince. He had been the villain all his life. Therefore, there was only the pleading voice of this heartless-person begging.
Wake up. Wake up. Come back..... he whispered.
Pakin did not think to ask a favor from God, because he was a great sinner who had destroyed many lives. So he wanted to make a deal with Satan, that he would suffer for the rest of his life in exchange for that youth's life.
Now Graphic was awake. His stubborn youth was awake. And he... it was time to retreat.
“And today...” Panchai began.
“I will not go anymore. My time is up,” Pakin interrupted.
Before his close subordinate could finish asking, Pakin answered first. He opened his eyes again, then pulled the documents he had pushed away back towards him, focusing his concentration on the vast amount of work waiting for him, hoping to reduce his longing and yearning for the other youth a little, even though he knew... it would not help at all.
He still wanted to see the eyes that opened to look at him. He still wanted to hear the voice that called for him. And he still wanted to see the happy smile upon seeing his face.
Pakin desired all of it, but... he could not grasp a single thing.
“Graphic is very lucky that his brain was not concussed. He only has broken bones all over his body,” a doctor said.
“You call that lucky?” Janjao asked.
“It is,” the doctor replied. “At least they did not puncture his lungs or kidneys..."
“Come on, Janjao, do not cry. We are safe now,” Graphic said.
“But... but Graphic was asleep for ten whole days... ten whole days...” Janjao cried. “I cried almost to death... really.”
After letting the doctors swarm to check his body, do another brain scan, and examine him once more for reassurance, and also encountering his parents—who he thought did not care about him—hugging him in tears, Graphic woke up again the next day and met his friend who had come to visit since morning. As soon as they started talking about his condition, the moon girl looked like she was about to burst into tears again.
If you were not her, you would not know. The first day she saw Graphic, his condition did not look like he would ever breathe again. His entire body was covered in bandages, his limbs in casts, his head wrapped tightly in white cloth, making her fear for his brain, not to mention the large medicated patches on one side of his face.
She had never seen anyone injured this badly and was afraid of everything. But the injured person did not seem to care much about his own condition, as his face, covered in cuts from glass, still gave her a pale, weak smile.
“Do not cry. I am used to staying in the hospital,” Graphic said.
Graphic tried to act cheerful, but a close friend like her knew exactly how much he was forcing himself. Since yesterday, the young man had not asked for that other person again. He had fallen silent as if he had never called out Pakin's name.
“Should you not be going to tutoring class?” Graphic asked.
“No,” Janjao said. “I can study by myself. But I do not want Graphic to wake up and not see anyone.” Janjao said determinedly.
Even if she went to tutoring class, she could not absorb the material. It was better to stay and watch over her friend to put his mind at ease. Her family did not mind.
Recently, Phîi Tawan had returned home, so he dropped her off at the hospital every morning. Phîi Sun picked her up every evening.
Graphic is an important friend, she thought. The older siblings do not mind at all.
Everyone in the family said so. So Janjao stayed from early morning until the end of visiting hours every evening. But even staying all day like this, she still did not see the shadow of that other person.
However, upon seeing the injured person's sad expression, the young woman almost slapped herself hard.
At first, she felt sorry for her friend. But now she was angry on her friend's behalf.
“Phîi Win came to visit Graphic,” Janjao said cheerfully. “He came yesterday too, but before Graphic woke up. Then he came again in the evening, but at that time the doctors had taken Graphic for another checkup, so they did not meet.” The young woman tried to sound cheerful, and the listener gave a faint smile.
“Is it fun?” Graphic asked. “Phîi Win is beautiful, right?”
“Yesss,” Janjao gushed. “He is the most beautiful man I have ever met. He is still beautiful even when crying. His skin is so lovely even I, as a woman, am envious. And his figure is so delicious, if I were a man I would have pounced on him already.” Talking about this, the fujoshi could not help but gush, feeling good to see her friend trying to laugh, even if he had to stop because of the pain.
“His breasts are a beautiful color too,” Graphic joked.
“Do not say that, it makes me want to see them!” Janjao exclaimed, laughing, but she covered her cheeks, and soon smiled widely. “Graphic's parents came too. Graphic's Mâe came every day. She cried every day.”
“Mhmm. I know. They came yesterday,” Graphic said.
“They love Graphic very much. It is not that they do not care about Graphic,” Janjao said, trying to let him know that there were many people who loved her friend, not just the parents he thought were indifferent. Phîi Win himself was worried about Graphic no differently than a real Nong. She herself was so worried she did not even want to go anywhere.
But the young man, who should have been smiling, gradually lost his smile. The hand on the side not in a cast reached out.
Thump.
“Janjao,” Graphic said.
“What is it, Graphic?” The young woman quickly grabbed her friend's hand, squeezing it tightly, accepting his words, ready to help with anything. But the question she heard only made her bow her head.
“What about him?” Graphic asked.
“What about Phîi Pakin?” he pressed.
Do not cry, Janjao. Do not cry, she told herself.
“Tell me. Tell me directly... he has never come, has he?” Graphic asked.
"Hic..." Janjao sobbed.
Do not cry, dammit, Janjao! she scolded herself.
If tears were the answer, the tears streaming from the young woman's eyes were the best response. Moreover, Janjao could only say...
“I am sorry. I am sorry,” she cried.
I am sorry that I cannot give Graphic the answer he wants, she thought.
The listener just gave a small smile and squeezed his friend's hand back.
“It is okay... do not cry. You do not have to apologize to me,” Graphic said.
How could it be okay? Her friend's pained expression, so hurt he could barely breathe, was right in front of her. But the young woman could not say anything, could only hold his hand tightly.
“Can you help me with something?” Graphic asked.
“Y-yes, of course!” Janjao replied, nodding quickly. “What do you want me to do, Graphic!” Graphic gave her a sad smile and just said...
“Cover my eyes for a bit. My eyes are stinging.”
Janjao held back her tears until her shoulders shook as she placed both hands over her friend's face and eyes. Then she bowed her head, burying it in the pillow, while the person who said his eyes were stinging began to sob.
"Hic... hic... hohhhhhhhhhhhhhh"
Then the sobs turned into the nearly heartbroken cries of the young man whose heart was shattered.
The person who said it was okay, but whose heart was weeping weakly.
It was a heart-wrenching scene for anyone who saw it... the image of the young woman bowing her head and crying into the pillow, her two hands covering the face of the young man who was crying out for the heartless-person who did not care.
It is over. Enough, Graphic thought. The pain is worse than a living death.
***
The sky outside had changed color, and her friend was tired and had fallen asleep. It was time for the necessary nurse Janjao to go home. The young woman walked with red, puffy eyes along the hospital corridor, smiling at the greetings from several familiar nurses. Luckily, no one commented on her bruised and battered face.
She did not want to talk about it. Talking about it just hurt on his behalf.
How could Graphic endure it? All those years passed with a heartless-person like that. How could her friend endure it?
Back then, Janjao only saw the excitement, the fun, and the entertainment of helping her friend get his wish with the other man. She only saw the beauty of love as presented in novels. But she forgot to see that the ensuing pain was not just for characters, but for her friend who received it.
When she first saw Graphic cry, she comforted him by saying it had to get better.
The male lead is bad, then later the love must improve, she had thought.
She thought that. But she did not want to believe that it could be bad and then stay bad.
If the young woman had known her friend would be hurt this much, she would have objected vehemently to him charging headfirst into that man's iron wall back then.
Graphic did his best, gave it his whole heart, got hurt all over his body. And look at the result of it... where is the person he gave everything for?
She did not even see his shadow.
Thump.
"No way," she muttered.
But then, that thought had to be folded away when she saw something out of the corner of her eye.
A man sitting with his back turned, but with a profile that made her anger surge in her heart. The young woman took a deep breath. She no longer held any fear towards this man.
Shoot me, drown me in the sea, whatever, she thought. But I will not stand by idly!
“How can you still have the face to come here!” Janjao exclaimed.
Janjao stepped to stand behind him, speaking in a voice filled with anger and hatred. The man paused for a moment, stood up, and turned to meet her gaze.
At least he looked somewhat haggard.
The young woman did not want to soften, but she inadvertently did when she saw his dry, desolate eyes meeting hers. But then, the image of her friend's tear-stained face flashed in her mind, which was enough for Janjao to lift her head high, meeting his gaze fearlessly.
“Are you heading back now?” Pakin asked.
“Yes,” Janjao replied. Though surprised, she answered.
“Do you need a ride?” Pakin offered.
“That is not necessary. I have someone picking me up,” Janjao said.
Pakin looked at the young woman in front of him, no different from a wary cat ready to scratch his face when danger approached. Normally, it might be amusing, but now he could not laugh, could not even manage a smile, as he looked at the person doing the duty he wanted to do.
The young man knew that this young woman came to watch over Graphic every day.
“You still have not answered my question! Why are you here?” Janjao demanded. He wanted to answer, but could only say,
“I am about to leave,” Pakin said.
“Then just go! Just go!!!” Janjao cried, her voice sharpening, both hands clenched together. Tears welled up in her beautiful eyes. A moment later, Janjao collected herself before speaking in a determined and serious tone.
“If you do not want Graphic, then I ask you, I will take care of this man better than you have done over all these years.”
Words that left the listener speechless. And Janjao emphasized once more.
“If you came back to make Graphic sad, I beg you, do not show your face to him again. I can take care of Graphic myself.”
Then, the speaker turned and walked away, not caring about who was younger or older, knowing only that these large, round eyes were serious.
If he did not want him, she would ask to keep Graphic for herself.
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