Kongpob, a 25-year-old CEO to a big company. He is hopelessly in love with his husband and his muse, Arthit Rojnapat. But when a tragedy takes his muse away, how will he find the strength to go on?
A ghost story with a happy ending
Kongpob nodded even before an answer could make its way past his lips..
"I want you here," Kongpob said. "I need you, P'. I need you to come back to me. I don't want to breathe without you. I can't. I just can't..."
Arthit turned his head to look at the paintings, looked at the drawings and smiled.
"You painted our past, Kongpob," Arthit said as he reaching out with trembling fingers to brush across the image of Arthit and Kongpob together, eyes closed as they kissed. Such beautiful scenery, Arthit could almost see the people move on the Rama Bridge beside them, the old Arthit would feel embarrassed to show such public affection like that but during that time, they totally caught up in their own little world.
It was one of his greatest masterpieces.
It was an epic kiss.
Their first kiss.
"Paint my future, Kong" Arthit said, his image already beginning to fade, "and you can have me."
Kongpob panicked. He rushed over to Arthit, exhaustion and desperation turning to anger. He had painted for three days straight just to have Arthit back into his life, and now here he was, disappearing again because he hadn't done enough. Kongpob shook his head. "No..no..no..no" Kongpob said stubbornly . "Do you know what you've already put me through?" as Kongpob reached for Arthit, as he dissolved before Kongpob's eyes
Kongpob stood alone in the mid-morning air, listening as the rest of the world sprang to life outside – birds singing, insects chirping. "No!!!!. You were just here, I want you P'. I don't want to paint. All I want is you" Kongpob screaming throughout the house. "Fine.. Fine damn it." Kongpob screamed, a scowl darkening his features. "If that's the way you're going to be about it, my 'sun', then we'll play this game your way."
Kongpob walked toward his room to put a blank canvas on his easel and grabbed a different pallet. Kongpob didn't even didn't want to waste time rummaging through his acrylics for the colors he needed when this one was so readily available. Kongpob barely regarded the canvas before he started dropping paint on it, he didn't even take a moment to search out the painting hiding within. He knew what he wanted. He wanted his 'sun', on his bed gloriously naked and panting with want, skin flushed with desire, writhing against the sheets as he desperately wanted Kongpob to join him beneath the covers and relieving him of his agony
Kongpob painted the canvas not just with a brush. He moved through the paint with his fingers as he defined the muscular lines of Arthit's body. . He cut through the oil with his pallet knife, giving depth and dimension to the comforter on the bed. He touched and sliced, moved and manipulated, the colors blending till what he had once intended to be a simple portrait of Arthit lying in bed became culmination of all his passions. Unlike his other paintings which sometimes took a matter of hours, this one he worked on all day. He never noticed when the sun began to sink into the horizon, and the room became dark. Kongpob know Arthit's body so well he could paint it with his eyes closed.
Kongpob took one step behind as he stared at the painting, and the more he looked, the more he could swear that Arthit's image was actually breathing. The image was perfect. Kongpob set his pallet down and ran a grimy hand through his hair, spreading paint along with it. He was breathless, totally worn out all his energy.
If Arthit were really there.
If Arthit was still alive.
"Kong" a soothing voice asked for his attention "Kong, when are you coming to bed?"
Kong wasn't breathing. He couldn't. A single noise, a single move, and the voice on the wind might be scared away. But he wants to see him again, to hear Arthit's voice near his ears, he needed to know
"P'- P'Arthit??" Kongpob asked slowly
"Kong," that voice again, so light, so fair, so enticing and heartbreaking and miraculous answered instead. "Please, stop painting and come to bed. You have all day to paint. We only have the night to spend together." Kongpob backed away from the painting, reverently gazing at it, expecting the painting to disappear. But it didn't. The painting remained, and so did P' Arthit. Kongpob walked slowly toward his room until he heard that voice again
"Kongpob Suthiluck!! I am going to count to five and if I..."
Kongpob made it to him in three seconds, and that night, while making love to the man he thought he'd never see again, he realized something so incredible, he felt no reason to try and explain it.
His 'sun'
His 'muse'
His P'Arthit
He could spend the rest of his life with his husband, as long as he painted it that way.
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A/N: Hi, friends. As promised, this is the final chapter of my story. From this chapter, you can understand that Kongpob can live with his 'sun', as long as he painted their future. And that's also why one of the tag that I'm used for this fanfiction was "FutureFic". As Arthit lived as his muse, I narrated Arthit to live long beside Kongpob's art. This is not logic!!!!! I know, my dear readers....
Anyway
Show your support for me by clinking the star button and help me to spread the words. Lastly, I don't know how to thank enough to all the readers for keep on reading this fanfin. Hopefully from this story, we all can actually appreciate the value of true love. And, basically enjoy all the good and the bad moment that happen in your life. I love all my reader, my commenter as well as my voter to the moon and back.
