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Kim watched with clenched fists as Kinn smiled in Porsche's direction, something wide and sweet, almost carefree, as if nothing in the world could ever taint them.
Kim opened and closed his hands, feeling every finger like a little needle ready to burst their bubble. His insides were made of black goo and it wanted to crawl up his throat and spill down his chin, it wanted to drip down the floor and infest the garden where his brother and Porsche had nurtured the little seeds of love and trust, and trust, and trust.
He swallowed down the bitter taste at the back of his tongue and forced himself to look away. Tankhun was talking with the two idiots that followed him around dressed as bodyguards, his eyes wide and excited as he articulated with his hands. He was smiling too and that, at least, made the beast inside Kim's chest stop sniffing for blood.
He closed his eyes for a second, let the fresh morning air and the smell of roses take over his senses. He didn't know why he was there.
Oh no, fuck that. He knew exactly why he was there, sitting on the gardens of the main house, trying to swallow his breakfast while Kinn kept playing footsie under the table with his fucking boyfriend; playing happy family as if the staff wasn't still trying to wash away the bloodstains of the minor family' bodyguards from their floor.
He knew why he was here and it was not because Kinn had asked him to be. The reason wasn't even on the table right now. It was an empty chair at Porsche's left, glaringly obvious to everyone except all the people that should care about the absence.
He returned his glare to Porsche. Then to Kinn. Then back at Porsche.
It was their fault.
Not everything, obviously. Kim wasn't stupid. He had never made excuses for himself and he wasn't going to start now. He was a bad person. He had known that since he was thirteen. He had felt it right in his core the first time his knuckles were painted with someone else's blood.
"Chay told me it was you."
Kim's body tensed. The little food he had managed to swallow threatened to go up his throat. A part of him had been waiting for this moment. He was surprised it had taken Porsche so long to bring it up. He was even more surprised that he was still sitting in front of Kim, looking calm and collected, instead of with his hands around Kim’s throat. He didn’t know much about Porsche, but from what Porchay had told him, he had always been an overprotective brother. He had to be, when someone as good as Porchay was under his care. Kim felt almost disappointed that Porsche hadn’t already kicked him out of his own house.
He licked his lips and turned to look at Porsche, every single one of his muscles ready to pounce. Or to flee. He still wasn't sure.
"Uh?"
Porsche looked earnest and surprisingly not murderous.
"The one that saved him when he was alone in Yok's bar. Chay told me it was you."
Kim gulped down. He looked away for a second, fleeting glances of shattered glass, gunshots and blood flashing through his mind. He had made sure Porschay didn't see him that day. He had made sure Porchay was safe and unaware of his presence there but even that he had managed to screw up. Maybe he had been too obvious. Maybe Porschay knew him too well.
I like all your sides.
"Oh," he said, simply because he didn't know what else to say.
Porsche gave him a soft smile.
"Thank you. For protecting my brother."
Kim didn't reply. He didn't tell Porsche he hadn't protected Porschay for him. He didn't tell him he was an idiot for leaving his little brother alone in the first place. He nodded.
"You were at the warehouse too when Porschay was kidnapped," said Kinn, pronouncing the words slowly as if he was trying to solve a puzzle he had been staring at for a while.
Panic gnawed at Kim’s stomach. He was not a fucking problem for Kinn to solve.
"I have to go," he said, hoping they didn't hear the slight tremor in his voice.
He didn't–- He couldn't do this. Not right now. Not when he felt raw and angry and two seconds away from going berserk on anyone who looked at him funny. He didn't have the patience to stay there and let his brother crack him open, push past his ribs and see the filth that lay inside, the lies that had tasted so sweet on his tongue and were now choking him with poison. The ugly, throbbing wound that was his heart. Not when Kinn was happy. Not when Kinn could hold his boy's hand and kiss the corner of his mouth and tell him I love you without the words turning into ashes inside his mouth.
It was their fault, their fault, their fault. But the guilt wasn't eating them alive. The guilt didn't make them lose sleep and stare at their hands with an empty chest. The guilt didn't make them cry when they listened to love songs. The guilt didn't make them want to rip their heart out of their chest and beat it until it stopped hurting.
He stumbled through the garden, ignoring their brothers' calls for him to come back.
It was their fault. He had broken Porchay's heart for nothing . He had left him crying alone for nothing. He had pushed him away, make him think Kim didn't care for him, for fucking nothing . He had wanted to protect him. Keep him away from Kim and this life. The life that corrupted. The life that made empty shells of decent people. The life that made him like the taste of blood. He wanted Chay away, away, away, away and now Chay was wearing the second family's ring and Kim was sobbing on the threshold of the main house.
If only he had… if only he had explained himself, if only he had apologized back then, if only he had told Chay the truth… I love you but we can't. I love you but this life is going to tear us apart before we even try . I love you but they'll hurt me by hurting you. I love you, I love you, I love you. Would Chay have forgiven him? Would Chay have given him another chance? Would Chay have grabbed his hand and refused to let him go?
Would they be sitting in the garden, laughing with their brothers, surrounded by white roses?
He wanted to hate Porsche for choosing to stay with Kinn instead of taking Porchay and running away to a place where the name Theepanyakul was nothing but a worn out nightmare. He wanted to hate Kinn for being selfish, for letting Porsche stay, for being brave enough to let himself be hurt, for letting himself fall in love.
He hated himself even more for craving so badly everything they had.