The Alchemist

Spirit Child of the South...

A/n: From, the SPOILS OF WAR Universe...

Enjoy...

_______________________________

Kongpob found himself in his studio, when he woke up. The early morning lights, brightening the room from the open windows. He sat down with a groan. His muscles protesting at having to endure the hard marble floor, for the whole night.

Kongpob stretched his stiff muscles. And looked around. Regretting instantly. Feeling the sharp jab, staring at the hazel eyes. First thing in the morning. He sighed, coming to his feet. He was habituated by then.

"Good morning..." Kongpob mumbled under his breath. With a smile.

Looking at the first painting, he ever had of the man. Stepping closer to it. He touched the cheeks with nimble fingers. Feeling the crumbly surface. Instead of the warmth, that Kong knew he must have felt.

"I was awarded last night." Kongpob spoke. "It must be... Here, somewhere."

He looked around. And found what he was looking for, discarded in a corner. Among his other awards. He never had a trophy corner. This room was his only trophy room. And he stuffs all his awards right here.

"Found it." Kongpob pulled his trophy up and showed it. "See? Young achiever..."

"Happy?"

All Kong was replied with, was silence. And the wind that blew through the ajar window. And the fluttering of sheets.

"I am not..." Kongpob smiled dryly, staring at the trophy in his hand. "All these awards... Fame. Everything, living a dream I live. Fragments of them. Tilting myself between those sights and my reality."

He touched over the painting again. Running his knuckles down the cheeks.

"I am not happy. I don't know, what's my reality anymore." Kong whispered, boring his eyes, at the hazel ones. "I want everything to end... But. You. Won't. Let me."

"You don't let me eat. Or sleep... Or have my sanity intact." Kongpob hissed. "I want to burn every damn thing. But. You. Never let me."

He felt irritated with the never ending silence. "What do you want from me?"

"WHAT.. do you want?" He held the painting and glared at it. "WHAT DO YOU WANT?"

Kongpob held the canvas, above his head. In attempt of breaking it. With angry, restless breaths. But, he couldn't. He kept looking blankly at the ground. Breaking in sweats.

And... Like always. His arms dropped. As he put back the piece, where it belonged. Staring at with hazy eyes. Like his routine. Dropping his forehead over the spot of the paintings forehead.

"I am sorry... I am really sorry." Kongpob whispered. With shaky breathes. "But, I am hurting. I don't know, what to do. I don't know who you are. I can't even name you...."

"Do you hate me? For betraying you? I am sorry... But, please... Show me a breakthrough..." Kong rested his cheek, against the art. "I am so tired... Of running in circles."

"Of loving a painting... Like a. Fool."

Kong finally, pronounced out aloud. He was in love. Registering, he was in love with this man. And it was so painful, that his insides, started to claw him. It was worst then unrequited love. Loving someone who you can't touch or feel.

"I love you. So damn much... And. I am sorry, I couldn't protect you."

He sobbed. Feeling frustrated with his life. Of everything. Of loving a fragment of his memory. Trying to grab on something which was but air.