Always you (PONDPHUWIN)

Chapter 3: The Tension Builds

The days following Phuwin's outing with his friends were marked by a subtle but undeniable shift in their relationship. Pond's behavior became increasingly erratic, oscillating between moments of intense affection and unexpected coldness. Phuwin could feel the tension building between them, like a storm gathering on the horizon, ready to break at any moment.

Pond, usually composed and controlled, seemed more on edge than ever. He was quick to anger, snapping at Phuwin over the smallest things—like a misplaced item or a delay in responding to a message. It was as if every little action Phuwin took was being scrutinized, weighed, and judged by Pond, who was becoming increasingly obsessed with controlling their relationship.

Phuwin, who had always valued his independence, found himself walking on eggshells around Pond. He started second-guessing his every move, worried that something he said or did might trigger Pond's anger or, worse, his jealousy. The carefree and lighthearted atmosphere that had once defined their relationship was being replaced by a heavy, suffocating tension that neither of them could escape.

One evening, after a particularly stressful day at work, Pond came home to find Phuwin laughing on the phone with a friend. The sound of Phuwin's laughter, once something that brought Pond joy, now seemed to grate on his nerves. He stood in the doorway, watching Phuwin with narrowed eyes, his jealousy flaring up like a wildfire.

When Phuwin ended the call, he looked up to find Pond staring at him, his expression hard. "Who were you talking to?" Pond asked, his voice deceptively calm.

"Just a friend," Phuwin replied, trying to keep his tone light. "We were catching up."

Pond's jaw tightened, and Phuwin could see the flicker of anger in his eyes. "You seem to be spending a lot of time with your friends lately," Pond remarked, his tone cold.

Phuwin felt a pang of frustration but forced himself to stay calm. "I don't see them that often, Pond. They're just friends."

Pond's lips pressed into a thin line, and he looked away, refusing to meet Phuwin's gaze. "I just don't like the idea of you spending so much time with other people. You're mine, Phuwin," he muttered, his voice low but laced with possessiveness.

Phuwin's heart sank at Pond's words. He had always known that Pond was a bit possessive, but this was different. This was a level of control that made Phuwin feel trapped, as if Pond was trying to isolate him from the rest of the world.

"I'm with you, Pond. Isn't that enough?" Phuwin asked softly, hoping to diffuse the tension. But as he looked into Pond's eyes, he realized that this was only the beginning of a much deeper problem.

The tension between Pond and Phuwin didn't just manifest in their conversations; it bled into their physical relationship as well. The once tender and loving moments they shared now felt strained, as if there was an invisible wall between them that neither knew how to break down. Pond's touch, once a source of comfort and love, now carried an edge that Phuwin couldn't ignore.

One night, as they lay in bed, Pond reached out to pull Phuwin close, his hands roaming over Phuwin's body with an urgency that felt more possessive than passionate. Phuwin tried to reciprocate, but there was a tension in his own body that made it difficult to fully relax. He wanted to feel close to Pond, to reassure him that their relationship was still strong, but the growing strain between them made every touch feel like a challenge rather than an embrace.

Pond seemed to sense Phuwin's hesitation and pulled back slightly, his expression darkening. "Is something wrong?" he asked, his voice laced with suspicion.

Phuwin shook his head, forcing a smile. "No, everything's fine. I'm just tired, that's all."

But Pond wasn't convinced. He studied Phuwin's face for a long moment, his eyes searching for some hidden truth. "Are you sure?" he pressed, his hand tightening on Phuwin's arm, as if trying to hold onto him physically, even as they drifted further apart emotionally.

Phuwin nodded, even though he could feel the strain in every fiber of his being. He didn't want to argue, didn't want to push Pond further away, but he also couldn't ignore the growing unease that gnawed at him every time they were together.

The physical tension between them only grew in the days that followed. Their once passionate kisses now felt like a battle for control, and the embraces that used to bring them comfort now left Phuwin feeling suffocated. Pond's touch, which had always been a source of reassurance, now felt like a reminder of the possessiveness that was slowly consuming their relationship.

One evening, after yet another argument over something trivial, Pond reached for Phuwin, his grip firm and unyielding. "I love you, Phuwin," he said, his voice filled with intensity. "I don't want to lose you."

Phuwin looked into Pond's eyes, seeing the desperation there, and felt his own heart breaking. "You won't lose me," he whispered, trying to believe the words himself. But as Pond's arms tightened around him, Phuwin couldn't shake the feeling that they were already losing each other, little by little, with every passing day.

As the tension in their relationship continued to build, Phuwin began to withdraw, both emotionally and physically. He found himself avoiding situations where he knew Pond's possessiveness would come to the fore, opting instead for moments of solitude where he could think and breathe without the weight of Pond's gaze upon him.

He started to spend more time in his art studio, using his work as an escape from the reality of his relationship. The act of creating something beautiful was therapeutic, a way for Phuwin to process the confusion and pain he felt inside. But even in the sanctuary of his studio, he couldn't fully escape Pond's presence. Pond would often appear unannounced, standing in the doorway with a concerned expression, his eyes scanning the room as if looking for something—or someone—he couldn't find.

"Do you need anything?" Pond would ask, his tone casual, but there was always an undercurrent of something deeper, something that made Phuwin feel like he was being watched, even when he was alone.

Phuwin would always smile, trying to ease Pond's worries. "No, I'm fine. Just working," he'd reply, hoping that Pond would leave him in peace. But more often than not, Pond would linger, his presence a constant reminder of the tension that now defined their relationship.

The growing distance between them was undeniable, and Phuwin could feel it in every interaction, every conversation, and every touch. He missed the days when they could laugh and joke together without the weight of unspoken words hanging over them. He missed the ease of their early days, when love was simple and their connection was effortless.

But those days seemed like a distant memory now, replaced by a reality that was far more complicated and painful. Phuwin didn't know how to bridge the gap that was forming between them, and he feared that it was only a matter of time before the tension would reach a breaking point.

Pond, for his part, was growing increasingly frustrated with Phuwin's withdrawal. He could sense the distance between them but didn't know how to close it. His attempts to reach out to Phuwin, to pull him closer, only seemed to push him further away, and Pond was left feeling helpless and alone in his own home.

One evening, after another tense dinner where the conversation had been stilted and forced, Pond reached for Phuwin's hand as they sat on the couch. Phuwin allowed the contact, but there was a hesitation in his touch, a reluctance that Pond couldn't ignore.

"What's happening to us?" Pond asked, his voice quiet but filled with the weight of his fears.

Phuwin looked at him, his heart aching at the sight of the man he loved, the man who was now a source of both comfort and pain. "I don't know," he replied honestly, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I don't want to lose you."

Pond's grip on his hand tightened, and he leaned in, pressing a kiss to Phuwin's forehead. "Then we'll find a way to fix this," he vowed. But even as he spoke the words, both of them knew that it wouldn't be that simple.