You're Mine, I'm Yours II

Part 2

The Past ;

The bar was dimly lit, with soft, golden light from overhead fixtures casting a warm glow over the worn wooden tables and polished bar counter. The air was thick with the mingling scents of aged whiskey, cheap beer, and the faint undertone of stale cigarette smoke. Soft jazz music played in the background, its melancholic notes weaving through the low hum of conversations, the clinking of glasses, and occasional bursts of laughter from the more animated patrons.

Khaotung sat alone at a corner table, the shadows deepening the lines of worry etched into his face. His usual air of confidence was replaced by a restless agitation, his eyes darting around the room before settling on the amber liquid in his glass. He swirled it absently, the ice clinking softly, lost in his thoughts. The world around him seemed to blur, his focus entirely on the turmoil within.

Neo arrived moments later, his presence a stark contrast to the somber atmosphere. He slid into the seat across from Khaotung, his eyes scanning the room briefly before settling on his friend. The concern etched into Neo's face was evident, his brows knitted together as he took in Khaotung's tense posture and haunted expression.

"Hey," Neo greeted quietly, his voice gentle yet firm. "You okay?"

Khaotung shrugged, his gaze distant and unfocused. "Did you not miss Mark at all?" he asked abruptly, his tone tinged with guilt and unresolved anger. The question hung heavy in the air, a painful reminder of the past.

Neo hesitated, memories of his own heartbreak flooding back. He and Mark had shared a deep bond, a love that had seemed unbreakable until it shattered. The pain of their breakup still lingered, mixed with regret and sorrow. He looked down, his eyes momentarily distant.

"I did," Neo admitted softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "But things changed, Khaotung. We both know why."

Khaotung nodded, his expression clouded with a mixture of anger and sadness. "He was my friend too," he muttered, his voice breaking slightly.

"I loved him," Neo murmured, his voice catching with emotion. "I thought we had something real." His eyes glistened with unshed tears, the weight of their shared history pressing down on him.

Khaotung's expression softened briefly, a flicker of sympathy crossing his eyes. "I'm sorry, Neo. I didn't mean to bring that up."

Neo's heart sank at the reminder of their painful discovery. "I know," he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. "I never thought he would betray us like that."

Silence settled between them, heavy with unspoken regrets and fractured trust. The jazz music seemed to take on a mournful tone, echoing their shared pain. After a moment, Neo spoke again, his voice tentative and filled with concern.

"What about you, Khaotung? Do you still... love him?" Neo asked, carefully avoiding First's name, knowing the deep wounds it reopened.

Khaotung's jaw tightened, a flicker of anger crossing his features. "Don't call his name," he said sharply, his eyes flashing with raw emotion. "Even hearing it makes my blood boil."

Neo nodded, understanding the depth of Khaotung's pain. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "I know how much he hurt you."

"This isn't about love anymore," Khaotung continued, his voice low and filled with resolve. "It's about justice. He made his own choice and so did I, making him pay for what he did to me."

Neo's brows furrowed in concern. "Khaotung, revenge isn't the answer," he urged gently. "It'll only bring more pain."

Khaotung's eyes were hard, his voice a mix of anger and sorrow. "This is me, Neo," he insisted. "Anyone who tries to mess with me, I won't let them go easily."