Chapter Text
Dear Longtae,
I know you blocked me everywhere else, so I had no choice, but to write you this letter hoping that you would read it. Please, don’t be angry at White, I practically had to beg him to give this to you. He is still pissed at me too.
I want to apologize to you properly. I want to explain everything.
You don’t have to forgive me, Tae. If you don’t want to see me ever again, then I will disappear from your life. But first I need to explain. I can’t let you keep thinking that you’re stupid or naive for believing me, I can’t bear the thought of you thinking that I used you and lied to you about my feelings.
Yes, I’m a scumbag who lied to you, but not about this. Never about this.
Please, Tae, I’m begging you to read this till the end.
You said that I was the hero who saved you that day, but actually it’s you, Longtae, who saved me.
That day…
~~~ 💌 ✨~~~
This is not how this all was meant to happen.
After they got out of that van, after Tod fell into a coma, after the gallery and the new day - it was all supposed to go well. It was all meant to come to a happy ending.
Sean and White were together, happy and disgusting in their honeymoon era - which honestly makes Yok cringe. It’s like watching your brother openly flirt in front of you 24/7 and be cute and sweet and a loving boyfriend.
Yok is truly happy for the two, he likes White and most importantly he likes White for Sean, he brings out the best in the man - but still disgusting.
Black is around too, but scarce. He comes from time to time to hang out with his brother and leaves just as quietly. He will never be anyone’s favorite twin, but he is there and he is their friend. Plus, without him they wouldn’t have been able to escape.
Gumpa ordered all of them to stay under the radar after the whole fiasco, so that’s what they’re doing. Hanging out at the garage, studying and hanging out like any student-friend group would. Did they stop being the gang who is ready to come and revolt again, fighting for the good and their beliefs? No. But after they got Tawi arrested and Black beat up Tod, they needed to stay low. Until someone or another fight needs them to step up.
Gram is now dating Eugene and well, it’s still weird to think about Yok’s best friend dating Black’s ex, but they’re happy, so who is he to judge?
And Yok? He is supposed to be happy too. Dan came back to him, apologized and let him punch him in the middle of the gallery. They made up and promised to try again - this time with no lies and no betrayal. Sean didn’t like the idea, but like a true brother, he nodded at Yok and told him if he is happy, then he will be happy for him - just don’t bring Dan too close to him yet, after all he hasn’t forgiven him fully. Maybe never will or maybe not now.
Yok ignored the way his gunshot wound burned as he leaned in to kiss Dan in front of that portrait.
It’s fine. They will be fine. Everyone deserves a second chance.
The first month it was fine. Yok and Dan went back to how they used to be, flirting and dating, sneaking into forbidden buildings to graffiti, kissing and having sex, enjoying their days - kind of putting Sean and White to shame (although no one can beat them in cheesiness).
Then the nightmares started.
It wasn’t anything at first. Just some nights of tossing and turning, waking up in cold sweat with a scream stuck in his throat, still feeling invisible hands wrapped around his neck, air becoming a luxury he can no longer afford.
It mostly happened when he was in his room, alone at night or sleeping next to Dan. He would wake up screaming, eyes wild as he looked for an invisible enemy, a gun or a hand holding the blade to his heart. Dan would wake up with him, try to calm Yok down, but his touch would burn, his words like a poison staining his heart, eyes unable to hold the man’s loving gaze. The artist would push the cop’s hands away and leave the bed, the room and most of the time the flat - if he is staying at Dan’s.
When it happened in Yok’s house, he would just go outside, sit by the water and let the silence of the night soothe the burning ache in his heart.
Yok is just glad that his Mae can’t hear his screams. It will break her heart to see her son tortured like this.
After every nightmare, he won’t be able to even look at Dan, couldn’t hear his voice, was disgusted by his touch. The officer understood though, with a sad and remorseful look he would silently pick his stuff up and leave, only to call in the morning to see how Yok was doing, if he is ok, if he wants to talk.
Nightmares that happened once or twice a week, soon started happening every day. Whenever the tattooed man would close his eyes, he would see that night, would hear those heartbreaking words, would feel the pain of the gunshot and heaviness of the cuffs. Every time he would open his eyes to the dark ceiling, scream stuck in his throat, his heart would still beat in rapid fire, all his senses on high alert, as if he was once again trapped in that hospital, trying to escape with his friends. Trying to save himself and them.
He was their burden that night. He was a liability.
Would he be able to do more? Would they have escaped faster? Would he have prevented most of it if he wasn’t injured?
Yok regrets being injured and dragging his friends down that night.
Regrets that they had to suffer because of him that night.
Regrets that he trusted someone who in the end hurt him and his friends.
Regrets that his trust almost led to his friends being killed.
He will never forgive himself for how he held everyone back.
He will never forgive himself for trusting Dan.
He will never forgive himself for letting Dan use him to hurt his friends.
If anyone died that night, if anyone was hurt or arrested or anything - Yok would never be able to survive it.
Cuffs are no longer around his wrists, the wound has become a scar a long time ago and yet, there is heaviness around his wrists. He can’t paint or draw or even sketch anymore without feeling like something is pulling him back, holding him back. Trapping him.
Every time he tries to draw, pencil drops from his lanky fingers. There are so many projects he started and never finished. His final art project is still on his table untouched. His sketch books and canvases are still white, unused, his brushes and paint dried with how long he hasn’t touched them.
Art used to be his escape from reality, but every time he picks up the paper all he sees is blood, all he feels is fear and all he thinks about is pain.
He started to avoid Dan.
Yok didn’t do it on purpose at first. He would be too tired from sleepless nights, too wired from nightmares which plagued his dreams every time he closed his eyes - after the first months he started having terrors even when taking a nap in the safety of the garage - and Dan’s touch would burn the tattooed man’s skin every time they touched.
They haven’t had sex after the first month of being back together, because every time Dan leans in for a kiss, Yok would recoil. Every time they hugged or cuddled or even tried to have sex, Yok would feel his skin burn and nausea rising. Dan was understanding, of course, he gave the boy time, he gave him space, he let him breathe and move at the pace he was comfortable with. But Yok could see it was eating away at the cop, guilt killing him - because he knows it’s his fault - just like he noticed how it was breaking chunks and pieces of their relationship apart. It was breaking them.
Yok didn’t know how to fix that.
Honestly, he didn’t think he wanted to fix it.
They didn’t even argue about it, just one day Yok stopped answering Dan’s texts. Stopped seeing him. Stopped answering his phone.
Nightmares were getting worse and his tired mind could no longer differentiate between what was real and what was only in his head.
Gumpa and the others noticed too. They tried to help.
Gumpa let him live in the garage, hiding him there - it never stopped the nightmares, but at least Yok wasn’t worried that his mom would see him awake through the night, sitting and gazing with an empty gaze at the water, as if wishing it would take him away too.
Gram and Sean took him to all his favorite places, trained with him, boxed and joked and made him camp the abandoned building, where they used to hide out, ‘for old times sake’.
Eugene and Namo tried to involve him in their art projects, get him to draw, to paint, to express himself like he used to do. The tattooed man didn’t know how to tell them that art, which once gave him voice and helped him break the chains of confinement, is now a foreign concept to him.
He doesn’t feel like he understands art, he doesn’t feel like he deserves it.
Yok forgot how to put all his feelings into paper and give voice to images trapped in his mind.
White, bless his soul, even suggested that Yok start therapy. Actually, after everything they lived through, all of them need one. But Yok, doesn’t have time, energy or money for that. Besides, nothing is wrong with him to require therapy! He is fine! It’s just nightmares!
He is not broken!
Give him time and Yok will be back to jumping from the roofs, painting abandoned places and setting stuff on fire in a protest.
He is fine.
He can’t forgive Dan though. Not fully. Not completely.
When he gave the police officer a second chance, Yok truly believed that they might make it work, that they would be fine. They loved each other, they can work through it all.
The nightmares, as painful as they are though, opened Yok’s eyes to one thing. Dan does love him, he is truly sorry and guilty and ready to do anything to redeem himself. But Yok is not in love with him anymore, he can’t forgive him, he can’t forget, he can’t get over that betrayal.
Maybe, if Dan simply lied and betrayed only Yok, then the tattooed man would, one day, be able to get over it, but he hurt his friends too, he put everyone Yok loves and cares about in danger.
Yok doesn’t know how he can ever get over this.
How he can ever forgive.
Two months after the nightmares began, three months after he gave Dan a second chance, Yok realized that this can’t go on.
He can’t forgive the cop and he can’t keep lying to both of them.
They are both hurting and honestly, it’s unfair.
“Yok, please, don’t do this! We can fix this. Please, let me fix this.” Dan pleaded, holding the tattooed boy’s hand in his eyes tearfilled. He looked so broken, so hurt.
Yok stealed himself, he can’t do this. Staying together out of guilt and pity won’t help anyone. “I’m sorry, Dan, I can’t. I can’t forgive you. I can’t stay. I’m sorry. I tried. I really tried. But I can’t.” The boy pulled his hand out of the death-grip and turned away. He left, heart breaking, tears streaming down his face as he heard the man he once loved drop to his knees, wailing and pleading for him to come back.
It was over.
This is for the best.
The nightmares didn’t stop, of course. If anything they got worse. More brutal. More heart wrenching.
Like there was an invisible lasso around his neck, tightening with every breath, trying to kill him, trying to stop him, not allowing him to get away from his past - not letting him to heal.
Sleep became impossible. Every time Yok closed his eyes and tried to take a rest, he would be back in that hospital, cuffed to the wheel chair, his friends getting arrested, getting piled into the back of a dark van. As time passed, those night terrors turned crueler - he no longer saw them getting taken away in the black car, but saw himself standing in the pool of blood, with his friends bodies laying at his feet, Dan standing in front of him, holding a gun, mouthing sorry. His ex would shoot him every time and every time Yok would jump awake with a scream.
Now that he wasn’t sleeping, he had more time to work at the garage and walk aimlessly around the city at night, driving his bike. The wind against his face is the only thing making him feel alive, feel here, present and not trapped in a dream.
The tattooed boy felt like he lived in a limbo now - constantly tired, constantly working or driving or moving, but never resting. Never stopping. Because if he stopped, the nightmares would come back. If he stops he will be trapped again.
Two months after he broke up with Dan, Yok drew again. He did it, because he was given an ultimatum by his professor, - “You’re failing, Yok. If you don’t hand in anything this semester, I will have to fail you. You will have to repeat the year. Do you understand?”
He couldn’t fail, it will cost him his scholarship and he won’t be able to pay for the remaining years of his education. The tattooed man had no choice, but to force himself to draw again, at least try to do something.
Yok sat in front of his empty canvas, in the garage for hours, before Gram told him to just close his eyes and paint what he feels, - “That’s how you used to do it, man. Fuck the grade, fuck the theme, fuck whatever is the homework. You never cared about those things anyways! You always drew what you felt, so do it. Close your eyes and just let your art speak or whatever.”
That earned him mocking and teasing laughter from Sean. “Aw, Gram you’ve turned so soft. Such a heart warming monologue.”
“Fuck you, Sean! I don’t want to hear anything from the man with his head on his boyfriend’s lap, getting head scratches like a damn kitten.”
Sean throws a pillow at him, not raising his head from where he has it on White’s lap. “Shut up, asshole! You’re just jealous, ‘cause Eugene decided to go out with Namo and not you tonight.” With that he turned to smile giddy at White and closed his eyes.
Yok rolled his eyes at his friend, turning back to his white canvas, lips lifting in a grateful smile. They were right, the tattooed man never cared for the rules and themes, he painted what he felt and that was what made him love art in the first place.
Art knew no rules and no borders. It was a way for the artist to express themselves - through music, painting, writing or sculpting. A way for the soul to break free of the flesh cage it is trapped in, soaring into the Universe unbound, just to tell the world what it felt, how it felt it.
Art is free expression, breaking all the norms and stupid dogmas, the world tried to trap it in.
Art is freedom. It’s love. It’s acceptance. It’s understanding. Art is limitless. It is true. It is unique.
Yok’s soul, just like any artist, is made for art. It’s made for freedom.
With that in mind, that night, already aware that he won’t sleep, knowing that nightmares are waiting beyond the veil of reality - Yok sat down at the bank by the river behind his house, using only the small lamp to light his work station and while the world slept, he started to draw.
He didn’t think, didn’t analyze. He just felt. He let himself express everything that stayed hidden in his heart.
Every lie he told himself. Every hidden fear. Every hidden ache. Every pain. Every heartbreak. Every truth.
Yok threw his emotions onto the paper and…
Even he had to admit that the end result was terrifying.
It was beautiful, sure, but it was frightening in its beauty.
The canvas was splattered in reds, blacks and grays. It looked like a massacre, like someone cut their veins open and bled onto the paper. There was no light, no solution, no lightness that usually hid inside the tattooed man’s art - like a small glimmer of hope hidden beyond the dark truth he draws.
But this work, this painting had no light, no hope, no saving.
His art looked how the artist felt at the moment.
Lost. Hopeless. Broken. Ruined.
Not better than dead.
Panic consumed Yok as he sat there, hands and body in paint, looking at the piece he just made, illuminated by the light of the newly rising sun, bringing the new morning, new beginning. Yet, the man felt trapped in the past, trapped in his head, trapped in the nightmare that he can’t seem to wake up from.
There, in the silence of the early morning, surrounded by only the sound of the river and singing of the birds, Yok sat in shocked terror.
It was the first time he cried in 6 months.
It was the first time in 6 months that, as he looked at the darkness of his soul which bled into the paper, the artist saw how broken, how lonely, how scared he was.
Yok wept for the first time since the hospital.
Wishing that only his tears are enough to wash away the darkness consuming his soul and once again bring the light of hope into his heart.
When he was done, he rose up from the floor, took one last look at the monstrosity he created, covered it in a white sheet and hid it at the back of his closet, in his room, where Yok knew no one would ever find it.
After that day he also avoided looking too deeply into the back of his closet, beyond the shirts and stacked boxes.
Avoided the insistent knocking at night, as if something was indeed living in his closet, wanting to break free, needing for the artist to acknowledge it, to see it, to hear it, to accept it.
Avoided, the looming shadow at his shoulder, following him at night and in the morning, when he is hanging out with his friends or when he is riding his bike, when he is alone in his room or when he is at the University surrounded by people. It existed next to him, like a reminder that he is broken, he is a mess.
Telling him he is no longer human.
That day, he handed over a different painting to his professor. One of his old ones, he made impulsively one summer when he was bored and wanted to just draw something simple like the river and nature, instead of his usual style - where he focused on people, political indifference and change, where each piece spoke of pain of the people, guilt and called for action, revolt, fight.
When Yok handed the painting in, his professor looked at him, like it’s the first time they met. “Are you sure this is what you’re handing in?” The artist nods, feeling sick already. “Yok…”
“I thought you said it's a free theme, so we could draw anything.” It was harsh, it was defensive. He couldn’t help it. The taller boy just wanted to get out of here and run. Run as far as he could.
His professor sighs, nodding, however reluctantly. “Well, yes. But… This doesn’t really feel like you, Yok. If anyone else handed it in, I would have accepted it, but you…” Something must have shown on the student’s face, because the man stops, looks at him and tentatively asks. “Are you sure you’re ok? If there is anything…”
“I’m fine, sir. I just…” Yok bites his lip, ignoring the whispers in his ears - Useless. Wrong. You have no talent. Poser. Fake. You failed. - keeping his voice steady. “I guess I’ve been lacking inspiration lately.” There, that sounds believable, right?
The older man looks at him for a long time, as if assessing him. Yok shifts under his gaze. “I understand you, Yok. That can happen.” He finally said, smiling. “Here’s what we will do. I’ll accept it as part of your assignment, but you have to do me one tiny favor.”
The artist frowns. “What favor, sir?”
The professor’s smile turns kind as he reaches into one of the drawers and takes out a business card, handing it over to the taller boy. “Go see Mr. Winai at the Sangthong Aid Foundation. There is a project he needs help with and I think you would be a perfect candidate for that.”
“But, sir…” Yok shifts uncomfortably. “I’m not sure how…”
“Don’t worry, Yok, it’s something within your abilities. I’m sure.”
Finally taking the business card he steps back. He feels trapped, lost. He needs to get out. “I’ll give him a call, sir.”
His professor relaxes with a nod. “Honestly, I think it will also be beneficial for your final project.” He pointed at the painting Yok just handed in. “This kind of thing won’t help you graduate, so go there and try something new. Once you’re back, I expect my favorite student to give me his best work.”
Back from where?
“Yes, sir. I’ll do my best.” The artist promised. Giving a quick wai and leaving the room, so fast, you would think it was on fire.
The taller boy runs through the hallways, twisting and turning just to not bump into people, jumping over the railing from the second floor to first, when he sees a bunch of girls gathered in front of one of the rooms.
He doesn’t want to be touched. Yok feel like if someone so much as grazes his arm by accident he will break down, all his walls, all his well-curated shields will break down and he will shatter to pieces.
He can’t breathe. He can’t breathe.
The taller man finally reaches the parking lot, eyes almost blurry from either the tears or exhaustion of not sleeping for weeks now. He isn’t sure. He doesn’t care.
Gumpa will tell him that driving like this is dangerous, but by this point Yok will do anything to escape the shadows, the voices, the fear.
He ignores Sean and White calling his name as he reaches the parking lot, quickly jumping on his bike and speeding away.
The artist isn’t sure where he is going. Isn’t sure who he is trying to run away from, Yok just needs to leave.
The boy drives blindly, letting the road and the sky lead him, for once shutting down his mind. He needs rest, he needs freedom, he needs to escape the constant darkness.
Why is it that, ever since he escaped being arrested with his friends, he can still feel hand-cuffs on his wrists, feel like he has indeed been put behind iron bars. Locked in the dark room, with only a tiny window to look through, yet placed so high he can’t reach it.
He is an artist. His spirit. His heart. His soul is free. It needs to be free to live. To create. To blossom.
Maybe that’s why he hasn’t been able to draw anything lately.
Art craves freedom.
Yok is a prisoner of his mind.
How can a caged bird create anything, while stuck in his cage.
By sunset he finds himself at the gorgeous beach of the Pattaya, the tall wooden building of The Sanctuary of Truth, with its menacing yet beautiful spiky towers reaching to the sky, helping him pin his location.
Yok parks his bike not far from the beach, kind of intimidated by the sheer number of tourists around, yet also calmer than he had been just a few hours ago. There is something about being a nameless, faceless, nobody among the thousand other people milling the streets, that gives him sanctuary from his own self.
At the moment he has no enemy to fight. In fact Yok himself is his own enemy and how do you deal with that? How do you defeat yourself and break free?
So while back in University he was feeling trapped and cornered, here surrounded by strangers, lost in the sea of people, for a while he felt okay, calm and safe. Or maybe he is just tired.
He probably needs to sleep so badly.
Leaving his motorcycle, he heads to the beach, taking off his sneakers and letting his feet touch the warm sand once he reaches it.
On the way to the shore, he answers texts from his friends, letting them know he is safe and will be back later. He knows they’re worried, Yok hasn’t been himself for a while now, but he doesn’t know how to ask for help and he doesn’t want to burden them more than they already are.
Will the guilt of that night live with me forever?
Will the pain, betrayal, anger and terror on my friends’ faces haunt me till death?
It was his fault they got caught that night and were put in that van. It was on him for trusting a cop and believing Dan will help. It was him who put everyone, even White who was innocent, in danger. If not for the protestors they would all be dead now.
They don’t blame him. They never did.
But maybe that’s even worse.
How do I forgive myself?
The artist’s mind is a treadmill of unresolved and morbid thoughts by the time he drops his shoes and sits down as close to the water as he can, without getting wet.
How easy it would be, if he just disappears right here. How easy it would be to stop existing.
His friends would be better off. Everyone would be happier.
Gumpa will take care of his Mae. Make sure she is safe and healthy.
Mom would be upset though, she might blame herself for this. She still needs me.
Is it healthy that his Mae being upset is the only reason why Yok is not ending his own life? Probably not. He should want to live for himself first, right?
But he just doesn’t feel worth it. He has no strength left. No will to do anything actually.
Yok sighs, dropping back to lay with his arms behind his head.
Maybe he can take a nap for a moment. Just close his eyes and wake up when it doesn’t hurt as much anymore.
~~~ 💌 ✨~~~
“Did you find him?” Kim, one of the younger reapers, wonders, coming to stand next to Per, who was sitting at one of the tables near the beach, watching Yok nap, while drinking his purple bubble tea.
The question seems to annoy the shorter man as he glares at the other. “No! I searched everywhere. It’s like Kant has completely disappeared.”
Uncomfortable and kind of nervous, Kim raises his hands, as if to say ‘I’m innocent’, and takes a seat across the table. With a click the younger reaper materializes his own drink taking a sip. “Is he ok?” He nods towards the artist, who looks like he is starting to have a nightmare.
With a wave of his hand Reaper chases the nightmare away, letting Yok sleep a little more. “It’s getting worse, Kim. I can’t keep distracting him every time, all the while looking for the estranged Fate.”
“Um, P’Per. You can’t stop him from dying, that’s literally the opposite of your job. You’ll get punished.” The younger man said carefully, jumping when his senior sent him a death glare.
“You think I don’t know that! But I can’t just let Yok die! Not after…” He gulps, heart pained as he remembers Jeng and what happened.
He did try to warn Kant that it might happen. Once someone’s name is on the list, it can’t be changed. Not without cosmic consequences. Per did try to stop Fate from getting attached, hoping to prepare him for what will happen to Jeng.
No one expected Kant to react like that to the human’s death.
Reaper has never seen Kant that broken. He never knew that Fate’s favorite apprentice could actually lose control like that.
It scared him. To see the power Fate possessed. To witness firsthand what that power was capable of. If Real Fate didn’t come just then and took him away, Kant could have easily destroyed the Universe. Every time the shorter man thinks about it, it sends shudders down his spine - the manic look, the screaming, the power that bursts out - Kant couldn’t hear Per no matter how loud he shouted. He didn’t see anything, didn’t react to anything.
Hell, Reaper couldn’t even step close enough to touch him, getting slammed back and painfully forced to his knees every time he tried to step close. That energy outburst wasn’t hurting him, it wasn’t even touching him - as if there was a dome of light around him - yet the same shield wasn’t letting him get close either, holding him back.
Maybe he would have perished too, if Real Fate didn’t come. Kant and him, both dying because they couldn’t save a single human.
Per is still not sure why Kant reacted like that to Jeng’s death.
They lost humans before, they saw Soulmates get separated and killed in more gruesome ways, in the last thousand years and yet, it was Jeng’s death that broke Fate. Why him? Why now?
Maybe Reaper can ask him when he finds the idiot.
“That’s why we need to find Kant and bring him back.” Per explained, forcing himself to be calm. His eyes were distant though, something passing through his gaze. “Then he can go back to playing with Red Strings and helping Soulmates. And I will be back babysitting him, so that he doesn’t break the Universe again.”
Something has been eating away at his mind ever since Kant left with Fate. He could feel shadows and memories and something dangerous sneaking through the fog, ready to attack his mind, force it into submission. Ever since Kant’s breakdown he has been feeling weird, like something is about to break, like something he has been holding back behind barriers and shields is about to unravel.
Per feels like he is standing in front of the tall, stone wall, which is slowly, brick-by-brick breaking down.
What is beyond that? He doesn't dare to ask.
Something painful, something dangerous is coming and Reaper is not sure he can stop it.
Per sighs, turning to Kim, who is quietly sipping his boba tea, eyes big and lost as he tries and fails not to look at the other reaper. “Kim, I need your help.”
“Of course, P’. What is it?” He sits up excited, like a puppy. Reaper is kind of sure that if he had a tail it would be wagging now.
Per barely held himself back from the urge to pat him on the head and pinch his cute cheeks. This kid, with his big doe eyes and hopeful energy reminded him of Akk. Cute . “I need you to watch over Yok for a while. Make sure he is safe and doesn’t do anything stupid.”
Kim blinks at him, looking uncomfortable. “B-but P’... Boss will…”
“It will be fine. If P’Death or anyone asks, blame it on me.” Not able to hold himself back anymore, Per leans over the table and ruffles his messy hair. “Don’t worry, Kim. I’ll be back soon. I just need to find Kant first.”
Kim seemed to calm down, smiling brightly.
There is something about that smile that is so familiar and dear to Reaper - he can’t explain it.
What is wrong with him?
“Okay, P’Per. I’ll help. Good luck finding P’Fate.”
Per forces an answering smile, sitting back and finishing his drink.
I’m afraid I won’t find him unless he wants to be found, kid.
And with Kant, I never actually had to try before.
He always came when I needed him, always was there by my side. Now that he is no longer here, I understand how little I know him and how much I took him spoiling me for granted.
~~~ 💌 ✨~~~
Longtae loves Pha Pun Dao. It is his home. A place where he grew up, learned about the world, met some amazing friends and learned what it means to be creative, curious and brave. He was raised and taught by not only his parents, but villagers too, what it means to be kind, compassionate, true to one’s self and loving towards every creature.
Tae will forever be grateful to all of them for the person he has become, thanks to the love they gave him.
Many people - from his school in Chiang Mai, where he studied before they started getting volunteer teachers in their village and later in University in Bangkok - thought that living in a secluded little town, away from the modern world, almost secluded in the mountains must be so hard and weird and ever some called it old school.
Longtae has to admit that in some way they were right. Many villagers, at least the older generation, weren’t aware of how the world has changed beyond the borders of their mountain. They didn’t know about new trends, new technologies, new ways of life, weren’t aware how young people acted or expressed themselves more openly now, without fear, how women had more autonomy, especially how everyone lived their lives on social media now, sharing and communicating online - even staying connected to people in the other continents. Longtae himself, didn’t own a phone or a computer, didn’t know how to use anything, until he turned 15 and moved to live with Doctor Nam and his wife down the mountain, so he could easily attend Matthayom 4 and finish high school in Chiang Mai.
But as the Khama’s son grew up, so did the villagers and their world views. With more teenagers and young people going down to live in Chiang Mai or moving to Bangkok, Phuken, Pattaya or some other cities, many even going abroad, the modern world entered their life. Thankfully, it didn’t crash them, villagers refusing to allow the modern world into their borders so as to not disturb the spirits of the land and their calm life, yet not forbidding outsiders from visiting and their own children from going to explore and learn either.
When their first volunteer teacher came, educating children, but also encouraging the elders and parents to learn too, their village became livelier. Torfan was even a better addition to their lives, she was perfect in every way, writing herself into their lives, becoming the village’s beloved daughter within a short time. She didn’t push or force anything, just gradually brought change and allowed the people around her to choose for themselves if they wanted to upgrade or not. Honestly, by the time Longtae graduated, everyone was well aware of the modern world and many people his age or older would often go to Chiang Mai to experience the beauty of the new world, Village Chief and elders encouraging it.
The only thing Khama, P’Phupha and others were strictly against was the electricity lines and internet. Elders strongly believed that the spirits of the land and the mountain would be angry at such a thing and would leave, bringing Karma to their lives and removing prosperity from the land.
So yes, in a way it was hard to live in a village who got left behind in times. To go to sleep as soon as the sun sets, study with the candle or a lamp at the edge of the table and incense burning at his feet. To wake up with the first rays of the sun and find alternative ways to stay warm during the cold winter nights, Chiang Mai wasn’t freezing in winter, there was no snow, yet at the top of the mountain the chills and freezing winds became more apparent. To be stuck till morning if you’re sick or holding on for hours until you can be taken to the doctor. To have to go down a mountain and stay out till the next day if you need to go to the city and wait till someone can take you if you need to buy something in town.
Worst of all, was probably living on the borders, constantly watched and protected by the rangers and soldiers against the contrabandists who wanted to cross the borders, from the criminals who chose the mountain to hide or run from the police. Longtae remembers hearing about people who got lost in the forest or who got caught in the cross-fire between the rangers and criminals. He heard and mourned with the villagers those who were killed, went missing or got taken, because they were at the wrong place at the wrong time. Thanks to P’Phu that went down in numbers, yet it has been one of the scary stories told around the fire for the children to be careful for decades now.
Yet, despite it all, despite growing up without any technology, not knowing how to use a phone till high school, not owning a phone or a computer till in University, not partying, gaming, shopping or doing anything kids his age used to do - not that he was really interested in partying, he loved playing games though - Tae never regretted or felt bad for living in Pha Pun Dao. He felt proud of it, felt proud of being part of that community, proud of his lineage and where he came from and how he was raised.
Longtae didn’t grow up in lack. He grew up surrounded by love and support, encouraged to explore who he is and who he wants to be, inspired to be creative, to be curious, to be real and true to himself. His parents raised him to be kind and gentle towards anyone, to listen without fast conclusions and only judge people by their actions and not by who they appear to be. They motivated him to be honest and fair.
Even to this day Tae hates liars and being lied to, even with Tian, he had the hardest time forgiving the lie itself, and only after listening to the reason and the full story, did he decide to give the teacher a second chance. He never regretted that choice ever.
Tian is his best friend ever.
When Longtae finished high school, he didn’t know who he wanted to be or what he wanted to do. He loved living in Pha Pun Dao, loved the idea of being useful to the community there, to help them learn and grow with the times. But he also loved to travel and explore other places, other lives, other cities. He didn’t want to stay away from the village forever, but after high school Tae knew that he wasn’t ready to go back to Pha Pun Dao yet.
One day he received a letter from one of his old friends, who left Pha Pun Dao a year earlier to go and study in Bangkok. In his message his friend spoke of the city life, of his new friends, of his university and dorm room and his work place, and about how different it was from their life in the village, how much he was learning and how he was changing. Attached to the letter came a brochure and a journal from the University too and to Khama’s son, it was like the sign from the Universe.
When Tae looked at the images of students and the building, when he read and researched, whenever he visited Doc in the city about the Queen Sikirit University, he felt his interest grow, excited to experience that life too. Something inside of him, as weird as it sounds, told him that his destiny is there, that Longtae is meant to be there.
Later, his mom told him that it was the spirits of the land urging him to go, they were opening his path towards his fate. Tae isn’t sure if he fully believes that, but at that time the boy didn’t argue.
His parents supported and even encouraged him to go and continue his studies. And with their blessing, Jeab - Nam’s fiance - and Nam’s help, he got a little shared room in Chiang Mai and started attending exam prep courses there for a year, before he could take the exam. During that year, as he attended the classes and worked part-time for extra income, Longtae explored more about the faculties and communities in Bangkok, making a decision of what he wanted to study. Doc told him, he can always switch after the first year, if something doesn’t go right - that’s what he did - but Tae was sure.
He wanted to study photography.
Longtae always loved art and taking pictures of nature and people. Loved, how you can express yourself through art, how with a simple image, with a painting, music, or novel the author can speak their feelings into life, influence others, change lives and sometimes even save someone. How art lets anyone express their views clearly and how for each person the same piece of art can mean different things.
While there was no specific faculty dedicated to Photography at the QSU, it was within the course packet of the Faculty of Communication Arts. Longtae and some of his friends from the prep courses, traveled to Bangkok and attended the open house, a few months before the exams. During that time, Khama’s son took a chance to meet his old friend, ask him about life in the University and then go check out the faculty he was considering. It was love at first sight. After talking to his seniors, hearing about the lessons and the program, Longtae’s determination grew. The last few months he gave his all to studying.
His admission papers came to Doc’s house - Longtae registered with his address, since no postal service existed in their little village - almost a month after the exam. Nam and Jeab came to Pha Pun Dao as soon as they got the letter and waited to open it with Longtae and his parents.
Tae didn’t open it with his parents though. He took the brown envelope and ran away to his favourite waterfall. He was scared to look and didn’t want anyone to witness it. After pacing around for an hour, talking himself into some courage, the boy finally opened the envelope and read the letter. Then he promptly cried for another hour. By the time he came back home, he had red eyes, puffy cheeks, but smiling like a fool.
Longtae got a full ride scholarship to Queen Sikirit University. He was flying on cloud nine, thanking the spirits and the Universe. Thanking fate for bringing him this chance.
Later that same night, Tae remembers showing his parents the letter and then crying in their arms, with them, as they kissed his temples and whispered how proud they are of him. The next day, Khama announced a big party across the village to celebrate. Everyone came, of course, so happy and proud of their beloved Longtae.
When Tae left for the capital, to start his first year and to settle into his dorm room, everyone gathered again, to send him off. For his first trip, Nam and Phupha came with him, because they were worried for the younger man in the big city.
Right now, Longtae is in his last year of University. He has made many friends both in Bangkok and Chiang Mai, from all his travels between semesters, working part time for some extra money, so his parents wouldn’t worry - he knows his scholarship is good, but he wants to help out his parents too - and helping out Doc at the clinic, mostly on the weekends during his holidays. He found true friendship in Tian, after the whole mess with Torfun’s death and Tian’s true identity came to be.
Tae was so happy when the teacher came back after his studies abroad.
Now Tian and Captain Phu are happy. The village is once again at peace and Longtae found himself a best friend in their newly appointed permanent teacher.
Sometimes he wishes he himself could find love, like the one P’Phu and Tian share. Someone who loves and respects him, who is loyal and understanding and supportive, who will do anything for his happiness and who will allow Longtae to care for him too, who will be vulnerable with him and trust him completely.
He always believed that love is supposed to be a partnership. That a couple doesn’t only have to be cute and sweet during the good times, but stand by each other’s side, support each other and be each other’s safe space in hardships too. He wants the kind of love that his parents share, that Jeab and Nam, Phupha and Tian share.
The kind of love where one doesn’t only give and the other only takes, where one protects and the other gets spoiled. He wants partnership, companionship. In a truly childish, idealistic sense he wants to find his soulmate.
Longtae dreams of quiet nights, spent in each other’s arms, whispering softly about their days. Sharing secrets about their past, they told no one before. Trusting each other with their deepest fears, knowing the other would never use it to cause harm. Being vulnerable and safe next to one another, letting down their guard. Healing each other.
Maybe it’s stupid, but he wants someone Tae can truly be himself with and who will be his true self with him. No masks, no lies, no shields, no distance. Just two people who love and trust one another, who are loyal and honest, sharing a life together.
Does that kind of person even exist for him?
Longtae sighs, slumping back onto the bench. He is currently at the bus stop in Bangkok, about to head back to Pha Pun Dao. The semester is over and he can finally go home, relax and see his family and friends. If Tae is also planning to brainstorm his Final project for graduation, then it’s nobody’s business, but his own.
It feels… harder to leave this time.
Maybe it’s because he knows this is his last year and after this he needs to decide if he wants to go back to live in the village (mostly), stay in Bangkok (not really) or maybe do what Doc does and stay in Chiang Mai, work there and go to Pha Pun Dao on the weekends (also most likely).
It’s good that no one is forcing him into anything really, but somehow Longtae kind of wishes that someone would actually take his hand and give him a clear direction. He feels almost as lost as he did after high school, when he didn’t know what to do with his life. Now, he is about to get his degree, most of his classmates have already begun interning or looking for jobs, and graduate, but he is still not sure of his future.
It’s also, partly because last night, after the ‘Farewell party’ his classmates arranged to celebrate the end of the semester - like they do every time before summer break- few of his friends, who are in a long term relationship, mentioned about how Longtae is still single and he should really think about bringing the girl home soon or his parents will cry.
“How can someone this cute still be single. Girls and boys would eat you up.”
Longtae knows they don’t mean anything bad by it. Yet, this ‘joke’ left him thinking of his parents and made him feel bad for not fulfilling their wishes, like he is failing at being a good son. Like he is not living up to their expectations, not becoming someone they could be proud of. It’s stupid, he knows, no one ever said or hinted at that, but Khama’s son still feels that as the village chief’s only son he has a certain responsibility. Has to be a certain way.
Which is also why he doesn’t know how to tell his friends or people back home - those noisy old ladies constantly teasing him about having a lover or a girlfriend - that bringing a ‘girl’ home is not likely for him at all. Not because there are no ‘sweet young ladies’ in his uni, but because Tae is not sure…
It was kind of shocking how easily the community and his father accepted Phupha and Tian being in a relationship. Sure, everyone has known for years that LGBTQ+ community and representation was growing stronger and some of the young people from their village even attended the Pride and protests, talking to their parents and friends in Pha Pun Dao, making sure everyone knew and showed their support too.
But Phupha and Tian are not from their community. They are part of it, absolutely and loved and cherished as sons by everyone, completely, but they didn’t grow up there, weren’t raised there. With so many young people talking and educating about what they saw and what they were part of at the university and schools - most of them proud members of LGBTQ+ too - everyone was accepted, supported and protected by people in the small community and especially Longtae’s parents.
Even with that, Tae is scared. Because he is not just some villager, he is Khama’s only son. And even more than that, just because his parents are ok with Tian and Phupha and others being in a relationship with someone from the same sex, doesn’t mean they will be ok with him.
Longtae heard so many times, from his classmates in school and then his friends at the university, who thought their parents were accepting and supportive of same-sex marriage and LGBTQ+ community, so they braved it and came out to them, hopping that since they’re ok with the movement and BL series and such, they will be ok with them too. It is however different, when it’s your child, as it seems, since some of those ‘accepting’ parents disowned their children right away or kicked them out.
That’s not how real parents should act. It’s not how fathers and mothers should treat their children. Parental love should be unconditional, and has to be accepting. It shouldn’t matter who your child loves, as long as they’re happy and not harming themselves or others, it should be fine. Parents are meant to protect their kids, not abandon them, because who they love, who they are, who they’re not.
Gender, sexuality, identity - shouldn’t be focal points for parents to easily give up on the child they brought to this world.
You can’t put a price on love.
You can’t put a condition on your love for your kid, when all you prayed for, before they were born was to have them, was for them to be healthy.
Longtae doesn’t think his father and mother are like this. Didn’t want to believe that his parents would hate or disown him, no matter what he did, but fear is irrational.
Plus, Tae didn’t really have any experience to even know if he likes boys or girls or anyone really. He has never dated anyone, never been with anyone either. All his young life he has been busy studying, working and trying to find himself. So, when his friends were experimenting, dating and exploring their sexual and romantic life, Longtae was studying, working or hiding in the mountains.
Can he really know whom he is sexually and romantically attracted to without ever liking someone?
A boy dropping down next to him on the bench with a long groan, jostled him, cutting through his thoughts. He turned when he felt Longtae move and froze, his cheeks turning red in an instant.
Khama’s son blinked in confusion looking over at whoever suddenly appeared seemingly from nowhere, choosing to sit with him, instead of anywhere else. With a quick look though, he realized that all the other benches were full with young men and women, carrying heavy backpacks and taking pictures.
When did they come? How long has it been lost in thought that he didn’t notice a bus full of people coming.
The boy blushing next to him, was a young looking man, maybe a junior year at Uni or something, with ruffled long hair falling over his forehead, half-moon eyes dark and sparkling with embarrassment at bothering some stranger and a hamster-like, cute, round face with small nose and puffy lips. He was wearing a yellow t-shirt with a quote and an image Longtae remembers from some BL series he watched last year, blue jeans, with his backpack clutched in his arms.
“Oh, sorry, P’. I didn’t mean to bother you. The bus was just so suffocating and I had to get out. I’m sorry.” He joined his hands and bowed a little in apology.
Tae waved it off, smiling. “It’s ok. I was just startled.”
The boy smiles, once again hugging his backpack, also with some famous image from the BL series, to his chest. Looks like he is a fan.
Longtae himself also watched BL and sometimes even GL series, mostly at his dorm room in the evenings, when he was done with homework and such, but he doesn’t consider himself that much of a fan. “We’re going on a trip together with my friends and some club members, but people are still arriving and I didn’t want to sit alone in the bus till my friends came.”
“I hope you have fun.”
“Thank you, P’. I’m Chonlantee, by the way.” The shy boy introduced himself, reaching for a quick handshake.
“Longtae.” Khama’s son answered, shaking his hand.
“Nice to meet you, P’Longtae. Are you also traveling?”
“I’m heading back home, actually. For the break.” Tian always says that Tae is too trusting of others, but there is something about this shy boy that is familiar. Like Longtae can trust him.
Chonlantee’s eyes sparkled. “We’re heading to Chon Buri, what about you?”
“Ah, we’re going different ways then. I’m heading up North.”
“Aw.” The boy sounded sad for only a second, before rummaging in his bag and taking out two bottles of yellow drink, handing one to Khama’s son. “Here you go, P’. Thanks for letting me sit here.”
Longtae laughs silently, accepting the bottle with thanks. “How long are you guys staying there?”
“Just the weekend. We have to be back before classes start.” His new friend leans closer, whispering. “But I actually joined the trip for something else this year.”
“Hm?”
“You see, I have been doing this ‘anonymous pen-pal’ thing my friend talked me into and have met someone. We’ve been talking for almost six months now and he’s really amazing, kind and so sweet. He was there for me when… Doesn’t matter.” He shook his head before his eyes could turn solemn, smile returning. It was refreshing to see a cheerful person like Chon. Tae thought he is the only one always staying stupidly positive all the time. “We agreed to meet during this weekend. He is also on a trip with his friends there.”
“Do you know his name? Where is he staying?” Longtae can’t help asking, kind of worried about the kid.
The boy laughs, waving his hand. “It’s anonymous, P’. We are using nicknames for now. He goes by ‘Astrophile’ and mine is… ‘Hamster’.” When Khama’s son snorts, unable to hide his amusement, the boy blushes bright red and stammers an excuse. “Don’t look at me like that P’Longtae. My friend Pang is the one who chose that name. She thought it’s cute.”
“It is and it fits you.” Tae shakes his head. “But isn’t that dangerous? He could be someone creepy. You should be careful, Chonlatee.”
“Don’t worry, P’Tae. My friends will come with me and stay at a distance. I’m not naive, you know.” He pouts, it makes the older of the two smile kindly. “Have you ever tried the pen-pal thing? I think it’s fun. My high school had a program for it and I know lots of people enjoyed making friends like that. Besides, if you don’t like it, you just don’t reply. No hard feelings.”
“I…”
He always wanted to try it, but always has been afraid to start. Afraid of meeting a creep, afraid of who he might meet. Besides, Pha Pun Dao doesn’t have a connection to keep up the messaging and going down to the city just to text someone didn’t sound that safe or worth it. Plus, Tae has always been too busy for it anyways.
“Chon!” A girl, with long black hair shouts, standing next to the bus, before Longtae could find an answer.
Chonlantee turns, smiles as bright as the sun and waves back before turning to his new friend. “Sorry, P’. I need to go now. It was nice meeting you.”
“You too. Have fun there and I hope you meet the person who makes you happy.”
That makes the boy blush harder as he nods. “Thank you, P’Longtae. You should be ready too. What you’re looking for is closer than you think.” He winks and runs off to his friend, before Tae can actually ask him what he means.
Longtae watches the boy, as he hugs his friends hello and follows them inside the bus, looking back and waving ‘goodbye’ one last time before disappearing from the view.
“What a strange kid.” Khama’s son snorts, heading towards the Chiang Mai bus.
He stands behind the couple at the bus door, opening the front pocket of his bag to look for his ticket. Longtae frowns when he doesn’t find anything right away. Seeing that there are still three people in front of him, the boy looks through his pockets also coming up empty. By this point a sense of dread starts to creep in, but he doesn’t let it get to him yet.
Tae remembers putting the tickets in the front pocket of his bag, like usual, with his wallet and everything, but somehow it’s not there.
It’s finally the couple’s turn and Tae hurries to take out his wallet and see if he put the ticket there - there are his ID cards, some cash and coins, along with some useless paper with numbers he stuck there, but no ticket.
The bus driver eyes him suspiciously, asking for his ticket. Longtae nods, giving an apologetic smile, as he goes to his knees and starts rummaging through his bag - clothes, presents, books, trinkets - nothing he is looking for though. He quickly opens his camera bag just in case, but still nothing there.
By this point panic has taken over and people behind him start complaining.
I’m sure I put the tickets here.
“If you don’t have a ticket, then move along. I don’t have time for this.” The driver orders, voice harsh.
“No, I…” Tae tries to say, but gets cut off.
“You’re holding the line. Move.” Come a harsh voice.
Gathering everything he twists to the side, letting the people pass, as he keeps looking through his bag, through every pocket, between book pages, inside his pants and shirts and even in his pencil case, but still nothing.
Tae looks up to see the last person board the bus, smiling apologetically when the driver turns with a raised brow towards him. Judging him, before turning and heading to the driver's seat. “We leave in 5.”
The boy could feel his heart beat increase, breath coming in short puffs.
Where the hell is his ticket? He remembers buying it and putting it in his bag. He didn’t leave his bag unattended or opened it anywhere for it to fall out.
The bus is about to leave and he won’t be able to get on.
Longtae can run back and buy another ticket, but he doesn’t have enough money and even if he scrapes something up, he knows this bus is full, so there won’t be any more tickets left.
He can always get on another one, but again, he has no money left - after buying everyone presents and some food for the road - his scholarship for this month is all but gone and he still has two more weeks before the next one.
Not only that but the other bus is in 10 hours. He already told everyone he will be home tomorrow. Chief and Tian were coming to get him. If they come and he is not there, they will be worried. He knows he can call or leave a message and Tian will get it as soon as they come down from the mountain, but his battery is about to die and Tae has no powerbank to speak off. Last night he didn’t charge it, since he could always connect to the USB port on the bus for music or anything and then back home, he doesn’t really need his phone that much.
Most of the way he either sleeps or reads anyways, so he didn’t care.
He should have cared.
“Shia.” Longtae curses, shouldering the bag on one arm and camera on the other as he walks back, retracing his steps. “Come on. Where is it?” He keeps muttering, trying to think through panic and anxiety. Reasoning with his racing mind to find a way, a solution, an answer. Maybe he can still find his ticket and get on the bus. He still has 3 more minutes.
Tae is walking around the bench from earlier, turning to go into the grocery store, where he got some snacks and sandwiches for the road, to check there when suddenly someone runs past him and grabs his camera bag pulling it off.
“Hey! Hey! What?! No… let go! Help! Someone… Let go!” The boy shouts, holding onto the strap trying to pull it back, but the thief is stronger. With a quick kick to the stomach, the robber knocks Tae down and runs away.
“No! My camera! Someone help!” Khama’s boy keeps screaming as he jumps up and runs after the thief, making sure to hold onto his bag, so it doesn’t fall off either. “Somebody stop that thief!”
The man runs faster though, cursing as he looks behind him to see Tae still chasing him and increasing his speed.
Khama’s son keeps running and shouting, feeling himself grow more exhausted. He should have gone to gym and put some work into exercise like people keep advising him, instead of being lazy and preferring to stay indoors most of the day.
It felt like something spiky and painful was obstructing his airways the more he ran, making him unable to take another breath, he huffs and his chest squeezed painfully on the next breath, everything in front of his eyes was getting darker. Longtae felt like he was about to lose consciousness, unable to breathe and keep running at the same time. He was dying. Suffocating.
Can someone suffocate from running?
They were getting farther away from the bus station, but he didn’t care. Didn’t care that he was about to miss his bus and will have to look for a place to sleep tonight and charge his phone and text Tian. He didn’t care that he would probably die, sweaty and tired on the side of the road from being unable to breath. Maybe his lungs will explode because he could only whine as he inhales, like a rusty screw coming loose, and not able to exhale without feeling darkness at the edge of his sight.
Longtae should probably stop before he faints, but he can’t.
That camera is a present from Torfun. His last memory of her, before he left home for University and came back to her being gone and a new teacher in her place.
Longtae still remembers the day she gave this to him, with a bright smile and a promise that he will take her portrait with it, as soon as she comes back for another term of teaching - this time permanent.
She wanted to come back, he knows.
Torfun died without Longtae ever taking her picture or saying goodbye or being able to see her one last time. He left for the semester before she did and neither thought it would be their last goodbye.
He still misses her so much.
This camera is precious to Longtae. This is the last present from his dear friend.
His last memory of Torfun.
He doesn’t want to lose it. He doesn’t want to say goodbye again.
Tae doesn’t want to lose the last connection with her.
His stomach hurts now, legs unable to keep moving, his chest is burning.
Is it getting so dark?
Longtae feels sweat running down his hair line, down his back. His shirt is probably soaking wet now, his face is probably manic and exhausted, moist as if he just jumped into water.
It’s getting so hard to breathe. He can’t feel his legs or his arms.
His head feels like it’s floating.
He tries to inhale and starts coughing.
But Tae is still running, still chasing the man.
Where is he anyways? They’re so far from the station now.
Someone sprints past Longtae just then. He only barely catches the image of black bird on dark skin, visible through the loose grey shirt, before the stranger ran cut in front of him, catching up with the thief right away, thanks to his long legs.
Khama’s son finally stops, bending at the knees to catch his breath, one hand balanced on his thigh, while the other grasps at his shirt like that can help loosen his airways. With short gasps, he tries to inhale watching the scene through a blurry gaze.
The taller man grabbed the thief by the back of his shirt, pulled him back. The robber tried to hit and break free of the hold, but the tall boy dodged the punch and knocked him back with fist under his chin. The thief railed back, letting go of the camera bag, which Tae’s hero caught mid fall before it could hit the ground.
The robber jumped forward trying to grab the strap again, but the taller boy was faster and kicked the man in the stomach, sending him back.
Deciding it’s not worth the trouble and with people gathering around, the burglar cursed, spat at the other boy’s feet and ran away.
Longtae gasps trying to walk closer, but feels dizzy, swaying on his feet. His hero is right by his side in two strides. “Hey, you alright?”
He opens his lips to answer, but the last strength flies away from him along with a last grasp of air he could inhale.
Everything goes black in front of his eyes and Longtae feels himself falling.
He is caught in strong arms before he could hit the ground though. “Hey, Khun. Khun! You ok? Hey!”
What a nice voice.
The last thing he sees before darkness claims him is a pair of gorgeous, brown, big doe eyes.
Such beautiful eyes.