In Lines Of Love ~ Kimchay

32. Postman

He was back.

Infront of old Kittisawasd house.

Kimhan was back from the missions his father used to send him on. Always on the verge of death.

He was desired by it. Looming over him. Yet he defeated it, each time, surviving when he thought he wouldn't.

He was alive. But his soul was broken as well as his bones. Sometimes it took time to heal-time he had never given himself before, always pushing forward, never pausing to mend what had been shattered inside.

To Protect.

Now, finally, he could apologize. Finally, he could stand before Porchay, bearing the weight of all the years he had wasted because of his father playing chess of Mafia, and hope for a chance to be with him again.

To heal not just his body, but the spaces where his heart had once been lost in front of that Building.
.
.
.
.
.
Porchay wasn't expecting anyone that evening. The knock on the door startled him, breaking the peaceful hum of the simmering soup on the stove.

Wiping his hands on a dishcloth, he opened the door, only to feel the ground vanish beneath his feet.

Kimhan stood there.

Porchay's breath hitched. His eyes widened as his brain scrambled to catch up with reality.

Kim was thinner, his sharp cheekbones now more pronounced, his hair slightly disheveled as if he hadn't slept well in weeks. Yet

Still beautiful. So, beautiful.

"Porchay," Kim started, his voice hoarse hiding ton of emotions.

Porchay blinked, stepping back instinctively as though the weight of his memories might crush him if he stayed too close.

"What... what are you doing here?" His voice broke, thick with disbelief as he whispered yell.

Kim swallowed, visibly struggling to hold himself together. "I had to see you. I know I don't deserve this. I don't even deserve to stand here, but... I couldn't keep this inside anymore."

"Years," Porchay whispered as his heart felt the ache, his hand trembling against the doorframe. "It's been years, Kim. You disappeared. You left me. Nope, no-nothing. And now you're here? Why?" His voice cracked at the end, frustration laced with unspoken pain.

Kim's gaze dropped to the ground. "I was scared. Scared of what I could become if I stayed. I thought if I pushed you away, it would keep you safe. But it didn't. It hurt you. It hurt me too."

Porchay laughed bitterly, shaking his head. "You thought it was the right thing to do? So, you made the decision for me? You hid who you were, avoided me, and just... vanished." He paused, his voice trembling. "Do you even know how much it broke me? How much I waited for you to come back?"

Kim stepped forward, his hands twitching at his sides as if he wanted to reach for him but didn't dare. "I didn't think I deserved you, Porchay. I thought leaving was what you needed. But the truth is... I was a coward. And I never stopped loving you."

Porchay's breath hitched, tears welling in his eyes. His lips parted, but no words came. His heart twisted painfully, caught between the love he'd buried and the anger that still simmered beneath the surface.

The sound of footsteps from inside the apartment broke the moment.

"Baby? Who's at the door?" a warm, familiar voice called from within. It was casual, filled with ease, and wrapped in the kind of comfort Kim had only ever dreamed of sharing with Porchay.

Kim's face fell. The word baby echoed like a thunderclap, shattering whatever fragile hope had brought him here.

Porchay blinked rapidly, his tears spilling over as he turned back to Kim. His lips trembled as he whispered, "It's the postman."

Kim staggered back as if Porchay's words had physically struck him. His face crumpled, the pain evident in his every movement. "I... I'm sorry," he choked out, his voice breaking. "I shouldn't have come."

Porchay couldn't respond. His throat was too tight, his vision too blurry with tears. Kim stared at him for one long, agonizing moment, then turned and walked away, his shoulders slumped, his steps uneven.

Porchay closed the door quietly, leaning against it as he slid to the floor, his body wracked with silent sobs.

The footsteps from inside grew closer, and a pair of warm arms wrapped around him. "Hey," the voice said softly. "What's wrong?"

Porchay shook his head, burying his face in his hands. "Nothing," he lied. "It's... nothing."

But deep down, as his tears soaked into his palms, he knew it wasn't nothing. It was everything. It was the love he'd lost.

The years he'd spent waiting for something that was never meant to be.

And now, it was the man he once thought he'd never stop loving, walking away for the last time.