Sotus: A short lovestory

If it feels like hell, then how should I ever live it through?

*song: Xia Junju-Flower. I've been listening to this song the whole day. From waking up, and as I was writing, it called to me... it's for this chapter, I hope somebody watches it with eng sub and understand's what I mean.
*I could not write as I wanted to. I had this idea in my head, that I'll make it more graphic, and bad.... couldn't. Too serious of a subject for me. No idea, why I got here, but hope you won't be too disappointed with me. And just so you know.. I have not read it yet myself. Too fresh. Will do it tomorrow, and then any mistakes, structural or otherwise, will repair, but not before. Need to rest for a bit.

Kong POV

It's was torture for Kong. Just looking and consoling and holding didn't seem like enough. At first, he wanted to call for a doctor, but dad was against it. It was just something Arthit had to deal on his own, his own mind would be the greatest torturer and helper.
Kong sat on a chair most of the night, at some point, he slipped under the blanket and held his love gently, as he sweated in bad dreams and memories.

Arthit POV

Something that started with a few pictures and notes, changed into a different set of pictures. They were of a younger him, the images seemed distorted in his head. Some had a sound, most didn't. There were horrific feeling to all of them. Arthit felt like he was just a passer-by, who watches the big window of a gallery, but every picture hurt him like nothing he remembered until this moment, ever had. He felt pile rising up, even in his dream, but he just had no way of waking up. Though he was sure that Kongbop was taking care of him, all he could feel was distraught and sorry.

There was one scene in his mind that played again and again. The first time his uncle had come and picked him up. As they were walking to the car, which had a driver, for a boy of his age it seemed fantastic, his uncle had felt like the saviour of his miserable life. His mother had died, he was sad and alone, and there was no one who would like to live with him, but his uncle did want to, so the way he came and took him with all the cheerfulness one man can show, young Arthit had been thrilled. Not every moment was bad in that house, not at first. They did get along great and there were happy times, regular moments. Arthit felt that his uncle had a weird habit of leaving at some points and then he came back with a totally different kind of look in his eyes. Maybe a bit mysterious, a bit strange. But Arthit was young, he didn't know much, and what young teenager would look a lot farther from the allowance he was handed, a really generous allowance of that as well.
One scene he had not wanted to see was the first time he had started to feel scared of his uncle. One day when his uncle had come back from wherever he had gone the previous day, he was slightly intoxicated. He had sat beside Arthit in the living room and had put his hand on his knee. He had said that it was time to show what it meant for men to live together like this. Arthit had felt a bit uncomfortable, but he didn't know, had not known. What would be next? That there was a next. His uncle had started to undress him, and there was a moment of hesitation from Arthit. He knew he liked the male sex a lot more than the female, but he had never acted on this, furthermore, he had no thoughts about his own family and uncle was his family, but he knew it was a taboo, everywhere. Also, he was young, and he was old. What should he do? So as he tried to move away gently, he's uncle was rough. As much as he wanted to get away, that much more his uncle was attacking his body, with his hands, his mouth. His hands were roaming over Arthit's body. Thankfully he had got away. He locked his room's door and he was afraid that uncle would come after him, but he never did and though Arthit was afraid to go eat breakfast in the morning, it was as if nothing had happened. Uncle was all the charming himself, as before and though the fear never left, he was calming down, day by day, more and more. No experience had thought Arthit before what kind of predator that man was and how his patience would pay off if he would just wait a bit.