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In a way, Peem never really woke up. Sure, his eyes opened and he could talk and walk and had all the usual signs of being awake. But that was just his body. After the accident, Peem’s body looked at all the people around it like strangers, like his friends and family were no more comforting than the nurses and doctors. And when Phum tried to hold his hand, Peem’s body recoiled in confusion and fear.
It was the worst outcome imaginable.
Everyone in the group, including Phum, tried to help Peem’s body remember how it used to move, used to act, used to love. But Phum could barely speak, couldn’t stop watching the farce with heartache growing rapidly in his chest, like a weed that wouldn’t be killed.
“Ey, Phum?” the body asked after two weeks of Peem-training.
Phum glanced up at them. They looked like Peem, but they weren’t. How could Peem be right in front of Phum and be missing at the same time? He didn’t remember any of their time together, any of their precious memories, any of the reasons Peem had become Phum’s safe place.
“Can I show you something?” Peem’s body asked.
A lump formed in Phum’s throat that he couldn’t swallow down. He could never deny Peem anything, not long term anyway. So even though this was not his Peem, Phum nodded and followed after them.
“Look,” Peem’s voice said, sounding tired, as they led Phum down the street. “I know… that this has been hard for you too. The doctor says I’ll probably remember things as the swelling goes down, but… I mean, there’s a chance I’ll never remember too.”
“Yeah,” Phum said, just to say something. He didn’t need the reminder that he may have lost the love of his life in one unlucky moment.
“And, uh, I’ve noticed that you’re avoiding me,” Peem’s body said.
Phum frowned hard at the back of his head. “No, I haven’t,” he said, speaking a truth that somehow felt like a lie.
Peem’s body let out a sour laugh, proving they saw a lie there too. “You’ve come to every friend gathering, and all my appointments. That’s true.” They paused to look back at Phum, a sadness in their eyes that Phum hated. “But you don’t talk to me. You know, the only reason I even know that you’re my boyfriend is because everyone else keeps saying it. If it were up to you, I’d think we’re strangers.”
Indignation boiled up and made Phum bristle. “What exactly do you want me to do?” he snapped. “You say you know this is hard for me, but you don’t, okay? Peem made me a better person, made me feel like being me was enough. And now I’ve lost the person I loved most in the world. And looking at you, it’s damn painful. Because you sound like him, and you look like him, and you walk like him, but you don’t know me at all! It’s like we’ve broken up, but I still have to see you everywhere.”
“Are we?” Peem’s voice asked, and the sadness in their expression had only grown worse. They looked as sad as Phum felt.
“Are we what?!” Phum asked, frantic for reasons he couldn’t name.
“Broken up,” they clarified.
“N-!” Phum’s voice faltered. “No?” Were they, though?
This wasn’t his Peem anymore. He couldn’t expect their relationship to be the same, right? Did they have to break up? Even though he’d already felt the pain of heartbreak for two weeks, the idea of officially breaking up and seeing Peem fall in love with someone new went beyond his understanding of pain. He never wanted to give Peem up – not to anyone. Not for anything.
Nodding like he understood, this new Peem motioned for Phum to follow him again. They walked for a long time, until Peem turned and led Phum into an art gallery. It was after hours, but Peem had a key, which made sense since it was Q’s gallery. Inside, they walked past sections of artists being featured that Phum only vaguely knew from rants given by Q or Peem.
Finally, Phum was led to a section that featured only Peem. There, in the middle of everything, was the painting Peem had been painting when he first met Phum – the ocean framed in gorgeous red blossoms. Seeing the painting wasn’t a surprise. Obviously, Phum had known it was there. But the sight of it nearly brought Phum to tears. It was a symbol of their relationship, of Peem seeing the beauty in them even after a horrible first meeting. This painting was them.
“Q brought me here on my first day out of the hospital,” Peem explained. “I was confused and anxious. I didn’t know anyone. But this painting…” He motioned to their painting. “It makes me feel somehow… calmer. More assured. Like everything is going to be okay. It makes me feel safe.”
Phum pressed his hand over his chest. Was it possible for a heart to explode from emotion?
“You make me feel like this painting,” Peem continued. “Even when you’re at the back of the group and pouting like a baby. Somehow, seeing you there means everything is okay.”
When Phum tore his eyes from the painting and looked at his boyfriend, he found Peem close. Too close for strangers. The other was searching his face, but Phum didn’t know what for. Was he doing this right? Any of it? He remembered when, early in their relationship, Peem had cried and told Phum that he made Peem feel like he wasn’t a safe space. Phum had sworn never to make Peem feel like that again. But he had fucked it up again.
“I’m sorry,” Phum murmured. “I’ve been a terrible boyfriend. I haven’t been acting right at all. I should have been – I shouldn’t have pulled away. I should have been there for you more, first in line to help and hold your hand, but I –”
His self-loathing speech was cut short when Peem leaned in quickly and kissed him. The movement shocked Phum, but he reacted instinctively. They had kissed so often that it was easy to fall into the familiar rhythm as they kissed and kissed and kissed. Peem’s hand went up into Phum’s hair, slid down to hold the nape of his neck, just how Phum liked it. And Phum’s hands instantly held on to Peem’s waist, gentle but reluctant to let go.
This was his Peem. He kissed just the same – with fervor and familiarity and that small amount of timidness that had him constantly acting like he didn’t want Phum as fiercely as he did. This was his Peem, who knew how to play with his hair and scratch across his scalp and just behind his ear. This was his Peem, his safe place, who painted when he didn’t know how to express himself. He’d brought Phum here to use the painting to help convey his emotions. This was his Peem. He had been such a fool!
“I’m sorry,” Phum murmured when they broke apart. “I love you so much, and I’m sorry.”
Smiling for the first time since finding Phum, Peem leaned their foreheads together. “It’s okay,” he said, always forgiving Phum when he didn’t deserve it. “You’re my safe place too.”
“Peem?” Phum asked, tentatively, and pulled back. It sounded like….
Peem hummed, a little smile tugging his lips up. “I still feel a little hazy,” he said thoughtfully. “But I don’t think I could ever forget you, jerk. You’ve been my muse too many times.”
Phum pulled his boyfriend close, never close enough, and swore to never let go. He would help Peem recover and remember, and if anything ever happened to Peem again, he would be the first one in line to help. Every time. No matter how many times Peem pulled away. Because this love was worth it.
“I love you,” he said again into Peem’s shoulder. He was really going to cry.
“I love you too,” Peem murmured, and turned to press a kiss to Phum’s hair. Then he smirked and said, “At least, I think I do. You may have to remind me some more.”
They both laughed softly at the joke, but Phum knew he’d take the role almost too seriously. He was up for the challenge.