You're Mine, I'm Yours

Part 23

As First slowly woke, the weight of his actions crashed down on him like a tidal wave. Rolling to the other side of the bed, he noticed Khaotung curled up in the corner, vulnerable and exposed. The stark reality of what he had done hit him with a jolt.

Khaotung lay there, unprotected and shivering, his hands still bound by rope. The sight pierced through First's heart like a knife. He couldn't bear to see Khaotung in such a state, his body marked with bruises and signs of restraint. It was a stark contrast to the moments before their altercation, when anger and pain had clouded his judgment.

Sitting up abruptly, First moved towards Khaotung, his movements tentative and filled with remorse. He reached for a blanket, covering Khaotung's shivering form gently, as if to shield him from further harm. As he did so, he noticed the marks on Khaotung's body—bruises left by his own hands, a painful reminder of the violence he had unleashed in his anger.

Gently, with a mix of sorrow and regret, First began to untie the rope binding Khaotung's hands. Each knot unraveled with a silent apology, an acknowledgment of the line he had crossed. He couldn't bear the sight of the marks he had inflicted on Khaotung's body—marks that spoke of pain and betrayal, not love or protection.

In the quiet of the room, broken only by the soft sounds of movement and Khaotung's shallow breathing, First grappled with the weight of his actions. He hated the marks on Khaotung's body, symbols of his own failure to control his rage. They were a stark reminder of the darkness within him, a darkness that threatened to consume the fragile bond they shared.

As he finally freed Khaotung's hands, First's touch was gentle, hesitant. He feared Khaotung's reaction—anger, fear, perhaps even rejection. But more than anything, he feared losing the last shreds of trust between them, the trust he had shattered with his own hands.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Khaotung's words were sharp,

"Relax, you're going to hurt yourself. I'm going to untie this, okay?" First's voice was soft, an attempt to soothe the volatile atmosphere that surrounded them. He moved carefully, each motion deliberate as he worked to free Khaotung from the physical restraint.

Once untied, Khaotung's glare bore into First with a ferocity that matched the intensity of his emotions. Without warning, he pushed First back with force, sending him sprawling onto the bed. In an instant, Khaotung loomed over him, fists clenched in a mixture of rage and anguish.

Before First could react, a hard punch crashed into his face, stunning him with the sudden impact. His ear rang and jaw tingled from the force. Another blow followed swiftly, striking him on the other side. The pain was sharp, but it paled in comparison to the anguish in Khaotung's voice.

"You're a psychopath, you fucking assaulted me!" Khaotung's words rang out, filled with fury and brokenness that cut deep into First's soul. The punches kept coming, fueled by a torrent of emotions that threatened to consume them both.

For a moment, First endured the onslaught, absorbing each blow with a heart heavy with remorse. He knew he deserved this as Khaotung's anger continued to pour out, First reached out, grabbing his hands to stop him from inflicting further harm.

"Let me go, asshole! Don't you dare touch me!" Khaotung's voice cracked with anguish. First felt the heat radiating from him, a feverish intensity that spoke of the depth of their shared pain.

He leaned forward, instinctively seeking to comfort Khaotung, to offer solace amidst the chaos. But his touch was met with a fierce slap, Khaotung's voice slicing through the air once more with a desperate plea to be left alone.

"I said don't touch me Asshole!" Khaotung's words reverberated in the room,

"You are burning, Khaotung," First's voice trembled with concern, his heart heavy with guilt for the pain he had caused.