In Lines Of Love ~ Kimchay

50. Happy fucking valentines ( pt12 )

"Chay," Porsche's voice was tight with concern as he took in the sight of his younger brother.

The swollen cheek, the busted lip, the way he kept his head slightly down to avoid meeting anyone’s eyes. His hands clenched into fists under the table.

Porchay didn’t respond. He merely poked at his food, eating in silence.

Tankhun also looked sad. He, too, was silent, though his sharp eyes flickered between Porchay and the others, his fingers tapping impatiently against the table.

Kinn sat rigid in his seat, jaw locked. His grip on his fork was tight enough to turn his knuckles white.

Meanwhile, Korn barely spared a glance at Porchay’s injuries. Instead, he casually sipped his tea, his expression unreadable.

The silence was unbearable.

"I’m going to kill that bastard," Porsche suddenly growled, pushing his chair back with a loud scrape as he turned toward Porchay.

His hands were warm but firm as they cupped his brother’s face, tilting it up to inspect the damage.

His eyes burned with barely contained fury. "He fucking slapped you......look at this!"

Porchay swallowed but didn’t pull away. "Phi, please," he murmured.

Korn clicked his tongue in irritation. "He is You Long Tang’s fiancé, not your brother anymore," he said coolly, setting his cup down.

"Whatever happens between them should be solved between them. It is not our place to interfere."

The air shifted.

"FATHER!" This time, Tankhun exploded, slamming his hands on the table.

His voice shook with anger. "Are you serious?! He slapped him....this is visible! Why are you acting blind?!"

Korn’s face remained impassive. "A relationship is built on trust. Conflicts between a couple should not be anyone else's business."

Tankhun let out a sharp, bitter laugh. "Oh, I get it now. It’s not our business, huh?"

He leaned forward, eyes burning with unforgiveness "Just like it wasn’t our business when you used to hit Mom?"

Kinn froze, his fork slipping slightly from his fingers. Porsche’s eyes widened, then narrowed in pure rage. They never openly talked about the incidents with thier mother.

And Since, Khun was kidnapped and started to act out. No one said anything about it anymore because all the trauma was related to thier innocent mother.

Porchay winced at the volume, closing his eyes briefly. "Khun, no," he said quietly, gripping his fork tighter. "Please, let’s eat breakfast in peace."

Korn exhaled through his nose, unimpressed. "That was different."

"Different?!" Tankhun barked out another laugh. "You used to beat our mother and make excuses for it every damn time. Just like this. Just like him,"

he spat, jabbing a finger toward Porchay. "And now you want to act like it's normal? Like it’s fine?!"

"Khun, please," he whispered.

"Chay," Porsche’s voice softened for a moment before hardening again.

"Khun is right. No one has the right to hit you!" His hold on Porchay’s face was firm but gentle, his thumbs brushing against the bruised skin as if he could erase the pain. "I don’t care if he’s your fiancé. You are my brother."

Porchay’s throat tightened. "Phi, please," he almost begged, his voice wobbly. "It was just a misunderstanding. I was the one who caused it."

His hands trembled as he placed them over Porsche’s, forcing them down. "Khun Korn is right. This is between me and him."