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The scenery that welcomes Meer when he opens his eyes is strangely eerie. Its lack of familiarity disconcerts the lost man, who looks to his left, then to his right, only to find out it is just a plain field in the middle of the countryside. The tender ray of sunset covers his features, and suddenly, there's a warmth spreading in his chest, both pleasant and daunting, and he knows there's a place he needs to go to.
His feet guide him straight to the doctor's office, the place he visits on a regular basis. It is not that he often gets sick, far from that fact, rather his hopeless crush on the doctor in question that brings him here nearly every day, as he fruitlessly attempts to get his attention. Today is not an exception, however, the previously-imaginary pain in his chest is real this time. Something is unusual today, he thinks, the odd strain crushing his heart through every move.
Shrugging the feeling off, he peeks at the office from the hallway, eyes looking for his doctor through the partly-transparent wall, hands resting on it. At last, a nurse emerges from it, and Meer seizes the opportunity to sneak in through the ajar door.
Grabbing the plastic heart on his way, he nonchalantly walks to the desk and begins his ritual, which consists of faking a sickness, aiming to indirectly ask the doctor to take care of him and become his lover.
The doctor does not look up and remains indifferent to the request, eyes on his paper, pretending Meer is the fruit of his imagination. Meer is not fazed. After all, he is used to the doctor ignoring him.
“I can’t quite explain it but I’ve been feeling a bit off these days. I feel too sick to go out, Khun mhor, I need some advice,” he starts, earning no reply, but that does not stop him. He sits on the chair, showing the fake heart he’s carrying with him. “I can’t figure out why, but my heart is beating oddly inside.” The symptoms are usually made up, but somehow, it really hurts today.
Although the words are left without answer, he imagines the doctor asking about his condition, and replies happily, before rising to his feet, strolling across the lively room of a thousand romantic decorations. He stops behind the guy, whispering in his ear, then pulls toward him the file the doctor was working on, causing the latter to finally look at him, if only for a second. The doctor energetically pulls back. That’s a start, Meer thinks. Today more than any other day, he feels the urge to get noticed by him, like it’s a matter of life and death. Maybe, the stinging feeling has something to do with it. In a moment of boldness, he throws his upper body on the desk, the back of his hand resting on his cheek. The aloof-looking man looks so attractive, in his purple shirt, yellow tie and white coat, a stethoscope around his neck and Meer finds himself unable to look away. Despite what the doctor might think, Meer’s crush has nothing of a joke. In fact, his feelings are growing stronger day by day, and Meer genuinely believes he is in love.
Then, he smiles and winks in his direction, hoping for some attention — attention he ends up not getting, even when he sits on the desk and asks, “Doctor, can you help me through?”, even when he gets up and asks to be prescribed strong medicine. It’s fine, really. It’s nothing unusual. He ignores what comes over him next, but instinctively, he taps on the doctor’s phone. Please, I need you to see me. I need you you save me, his unconscious entreats the doctor. Meer can sense the urgency of the situation, yet, he isn’t sure what exactly the doctor needs to save him from. His mind is sending him mixed signals he is unable to interpret.
Still ignoring him, the doctor grabs his phone and exits the office while Meer follows, confused. In the hallway, he walks behind the doctor, cocking his head to the side to address him. “Doctor, you’re available, aren’t you?” To take care of him, he does not say. Ignored again, he moves to his right side instead and carry on with his request.
Outside, an open ambulance is waiting for them under the shining sun. Meer goes to sit at the back, motioning to the doctor to get in. He does, surprisingly, and once the trunk door is closed and the vehicle starts, Meer’s body is suddenly acting up again. The pain in his chest increases tenfold, becoming more and more unbearable but he holds on however he can. Focusing on the man beside him helps, so he distracts himself from whatever is wrong with him and resumes his flirting. “You said I need someone caring for me. Well, I’m looking for a man sincere with no secrets to hide. Where can I find such a person, doctor?”
Of course, the reply never comes. It’s like Meer is talking to a wall — it has always been like this with the doctor, Chai of his name, though he has never addressed him this way, only in his wildest fantasies when the two of them are in a relationship. There is no chance the cold-hearted man will ever like him back, but that is fine with him. He could not help this one-sided attraction, never expected to develop such feelings in the first place when he had first crossed his path. But the doctor Chai had been the flicker of hope amidst this oppressing darkness, and Meer had held on to that light.
Following that first meeting, it had begun with visits to the doctor as often as possible just to catch a glimpse of his face. The many visits had offered some warmth Meer craved and feelings could not help but bloom, even if he was aware of the doomed nature of this newfound love. Yet, he never gave up, and instead set up new stratagems to get an appointment with the man he liked. The doctor was quickly able to see right through him. Upset, at first, he had been, complaining about a waste of time as he had forced Meer to leave. The infatuated man had come back a few days later like nothing had happened, acting all innocent with his doe eyes, and from then on, the doctor let him be. He often ignored his not-actually-ill patient, eyes only on his paperwork. In the times he did not, he asked about his symptoms, and Meer would repeat the same thing about his heart aching and the need to be taken care of. Although the doctor remained impassive at the flirtatious attempts, he always let him stay, and that alone was enough for Meer.
Even right now, as he is pretending Meer isn’t here, he lets him flirt as he pleases, and Meer enjoys the moment. If secretly a part of him is wishing he could be Chai’s, then it is his business and no one else’s. The farther away they get to the office, though, the more Meer feels faint.
At one point, his lack of energy forces him down, and that’s when he senses it: the imminent death looming over him, waiting to take him away. A feeling of understanding dawns on him as regret, dread and the too familiar helplessness stain his aching heart. He is feverish, burning and freezing at once and his head is pounding. He comes to the terrifying conclusion that he is dying. The doctor gets his hand closer to his face, then draws it back as if he has been burned. Meer should feel ecstatic at the doctor noticing him, but the exhaustion blocks all his senses and all he can do is lie on the stretcher and hope he can make it to the location, before it’s too late for his case. Before he is silenced forever.
He is not sure which part of the pain is worse: the physical or the mental. His entire body is sore as memories of earlier rush to him in dizzying flashes: he remembers the motorbike accident and can now clearly understand his situation. He is not fully here, only his soul has made it out; his body is somewhere in the same field he woke up to today and the ambulance is most likely driving there. Are they too late? Is this how the story ends for him, with so much left unfinished, with no legacy to leave behind? Plagued by the fear of dying, only grief persists, reminding him that his aspirations in life are no more, and all there is left is the regret — dying without finishing what he wanted to do, guilt filling his stomach, telling him he should have done it when he still had time. He thinks of the love he was so sure was within his reach, but love is what he will never know, as his life is already coming to an end. At least, doctor Chai is here with him. He won’t die alone, and maybe this thought comforts him a little in his misery.
He is shaking when he gets out of the vehicle. He takes a few slow steps but stops abruptly at the sight of his lifeless body on the ground. The finality of his fate is put right before him and he is in the incapacity to do anything except witnessing himself fighting death from the outside. It’s unbearable, much like the cold invading his body right now. Is his body as freezing? If such is the case, then all hope is lost. Eyes on his own body, Meer cannot help the panic building in. So, this is it. Doctor, please save me. I don’t want to die. I’m not ready. I’m scared. His thoughts are a mess and he can barely stand, shuddering of sorrow and fear, at the brink of despair. It’s too late, isn’t it?
It is not long before nausea overcomes him, and the poor soul looks to the side for his anchor, the doctor, the embodiment of hope in this place that reeks of death. The doctor, however, is nowhere to be seen and Meer swallows a sob. He is going to die, he knows it. And he is going to die alone. Lying to himself would not do him any favor. The Grim Reaper has already caught him in between its unforgiving crooks and there is no escape. Not this time.
He tries to get a word out of his trembling lips, without success. Where is he? I need to see him, and it will be okay, Meer uselessly tries to calm himself down. He is convinced that he will be okay if he can see the doctor’s face one more time, whatever this means for him. However, his head is spinning and soon, his surroundings become blurry. The air fails to reach his lungs and he realizes he cannot breathe in anymore. It really is the end, isn’t it?
When his knees give in seconds later, he feels it; the end of his disappointing existence, that could have been so much more had he only have time to make something out of it. He collapses to the ground as everything fades to black.
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The doctor stares in horror as the body of his unconscious patient on the ground enters his field of vision. He needs a few seconds to collect himself, accepting the fact that his fear has come true. The location that magically appeared on his screen at the office was well and truly the location of Meer. How did that information reach him when they have never exchanged their numbers, it is a mystery. But Chai knows that something — or someone — followed him all the way to this place; the file moving on its own earlier and the paranormal coldness, signaling some kind of presence are the proofs of it. He is aware that doctors are supposed to be rational and logical, but Chai knows when to admit that science does not have the answer to every phenomenon.
Pulling himself out his thoughts as the situation requires his help, he rushes to Meer’s lying body. There is blood all over his face, and as Chai takes a look at him, the man’s closed eyes awaken a possibility the doctor does not want to consider yet.
There’s something twisted and disturbing about seeing the man on the verge of death wearing such a vibrant color, and the contrast of both leaves him dizzy. It’s like the light of his life is going out, taking back with him the colors he brought into the doctor’s dull existence.
He taps on Meer’s shoulders but the patient remains unresponsive. Feeling panic building in his stomach, Chai is forced to imagine the worst.
He doesn’t know what he will do if Meer never wakes up. He remembers their first meeting, when Meer had entered his office with a black eye and a broken nose. He had been stuck in a loveless relationship with a cheating partner who hated him. Chai had lent an ear as Meer had admitted he’d never had luck with men and that his own feelings had been his downfall. ‘I just want to love and to be loved,’ Meer had confessed. Chai had tried to comfort him and had advised him with kindness. The next time they had met, weeks later, Meer had not been sick, telling him about imaginary symptoms that Chai had soon deduced were flirting. On a whim, he had dismissed him, as he had patients to help and Meer had been wasting his precious time.
But when Meer had come back again, Chai had pondered about the man’s life. From what he had understood, the man had just got out of a terrible relationship. He seemed to come visit him to avoid going back home. Did he have relatives, or friends to rely on in such moments? Chai doubted that. There was a chance Meer was a lonely man looking for an escape from his empty days. Hence, he never dismissed him ever again. Of course, he ignored the flirtatious words — he needed to work, and doctor-patient relationships were frowned upon, if not prohibited anyway. Moreover, even if Chai did not feel anything other than platonic for the lovely man, Meer had just gone through a breakup, so this flirting was most likely nothing serious.
Except the flirting attempts went on for months, and in an ironic turn of events, Chai’s heart surrendered, though he hid it well. He had never been in love before, and his feelings remained confusing. He was not sure where he stood, until this very moment, tragically having an epiphany before the wounded body. What if it had been his chance at happiness, and he had stupidly thrown it away? Regret contaminates his body like poison, and Chai wishes so badly he could go back to the last time Meer came to his office and accept the love, had the man been serious about his feelings.
At sea, Chai forces himself to settle in the overwhelming reality and pushes his selfish thoughts to the back of his mind. First, he has to save him. What comes afterward is the matter of his future self. His current self needs to make sure no one dies tonight.
Trying his best not to let his emotions control him, the doctor puts the cervical collar on his patient, careful not to hurt him in the process. Then, he puts the stethoscope that was around his neck and checks his pulse hoping for the best. In spite of himself, he holds his breath for seconds that seem like hours, terrified of the possibility of losing him. He wants nothing more than to see the weak-looking man being himself again, blessing the world with his spark. The sad sight is insupportable. Shadows surround the stressful scene as Chai holds on to the only remaining joy in his life, hand on the nearly put out flame of joy that will permanently go out should Meer close his eyes forever.
Wake up, please. Wake up for me.
A hand reaches his own placed on Meer’s chest, making Chai look down. It’s Meer. The blaze is still burning brightly, its warm light illuminating the doctor’s face. Meer gasps heavily, the air going in and out of his lungs as his eyes flutter open and finally, Chai is able to breathe again, sighing of relief. Their eyes meet as if it were the first time; a smile lights up Meer’s face, akin to the sun, and Chai smiles back, genuinely happy that they managed to avoid the tragedy and that his light is alive.
“You came,” Meer whispers weakly.
“Of course,” the doctor replies as if it were an evidence. As if he would have come to save him no matter what. The implications of the words are true, though, he knows he would have. “Let’s get you to the hospital, hm? I’m gonna need you to stay awake. You can hold my hand or talk to me until we get there. Can you do that for me?”
A small nod, then the injured man is laid on a stretcher and carried to the ambulance.
The doctor sits beside him and extends his hand, fingers brushing against Meer’s cold ones. Meer catches it, unable to turn his head to look at the doctor. His head hurts and he can feel the drowsiness spreading in his body, but he focuses on the rough hands he finally has the privilege to hold. Did the doctor really smile at him, or was it his imagination? Meer cannot differenciate between the reality and his traitorous, wishful mind. But he is very much awake, and the doctor is by his side so it does not matter.
“Am I… Am I gonna be okay?” he asks in a small voice.
“You’ll be fine. Luckily, we found you on time.”
Meer thinks of the agony he felt in front of his dying body. Tears fill his eyes — it’s over now, he is safe. “I’m… I’m glad. Thank you, doctor, I thought I was going to die. I was so scared,” he admits, squeezing the doctor’s hand.
Chai squeezes back. He almost lost him once; he won’t lose him another time. “It’s alright now. You will be alright, I promise. I will make sure of it.”
“I bothered you again, didn’t I? Making you come all the way here.”
He doesn’t feel guilty about the flirting, but about the doctor abandoning his work and rushing here to save him.
“What? No, if anything I’d rather let you bother me than being too late. I thought I had got to you too late… If it wasn’t for the location that magically appeared on my phone, I don’t know if I would have been able to…” the rest of the sentence dies on his tongue. “It was your doing, wasn’t it?”
Meer smiles even if the gesture hurts. The cold doctor turned into a caring one, but he finds that he likes the development. “Yes, doctor, it was me. But couldn’t you see me?”
“No, I couldn’t. Thank you for guiding me to you, though.”
The words feels strangely intimate for the two almost-strangers, but whatever they have has always been peculiar, after all.
“Thank you for not giving up on me even though I can be too much of a hassle.”
“That, you are. An endearing kind of hassle.” the words escape before he can control them. Thankfully, the car reaches the hospital so they are left without reply. The two have to separate now, so Chai quickly draws his hand back before anyone can see.
“Thank you again, doctor.” Meer is thankful to be here right now. “Will I see you when I wake up?”
The doctor frowns. “Why?”
“Because I want to see you. Is that a crime?”
It’s like the world stops, as Chai grasps the hidden meaning of the sentence. What he means is ‘Is that a crime that I like you?’ and Chai is aware of the risks of replying to that while he’s in his doctor clothes, especially while he is still working. But he knows what his own heart longs for. Who it longs for. He promised himself that should Meer wake up, he would accept his feelings.
There is something he would love to say, but it is not the right moment. “No, no it’s not,” he ends up saying. “I’ll see what I can do. You take care of yourself, hm?”
He watches the nurses take him away with a conflicted mind.
_________________
Meer is discharged from the hospital a week later. He has to use crutches for the rest of the month, but he is just glad that he is not confined within these haunting white walls anymore. Hospitals have always made him feel uncomfortable — only his doctor’s office is nice, but it surely is because of the man who works in there and not the place in itself.
Throughout the past week, Meer did not receive a single visit from the doctor. It wasn’t like he promised anything, so he cannot hold him accountable. A mystery remains, though; Meer was anonymously sent flowers, and he can’t help but hope.
Someone calls his name as he is just out of the building, and when Meer turns toward the voice, it takes him a while to recognize who it belongs to. The man in question is wearing a long-sleeved striped tee-shirt and fashionable, transparent spectacles are perched on his nose.
“Doctor, what are you doing here?” Meer asks with glee, openly gawking at the man whose casual attire makes him look like someone else entirely. There is no more serious and charming doctor, this one seems friendly and cute. Hot as well somehow, but it may just be his crush speaking.
“I see you’re recovered, good. I wanted to ask you a question.”
Meer cannot hide the surprise on his features. Did he come all the way here just to ask a random question? It’s almost disappointing. “What is it?”
The doctor scratches his neck, trying to find his words. “Do you really like me?”
“I-” Meer nearly stumbles at the sudden question, barely stable on his clutches. The shyness vanishes quickly, replaced by his usual confidence. “I do, doctor. You came just to ask me something so obvious?” He replies in a serious tone. He is tired of his feelings being treated as a joke.
The doctor, however, smiles at the confession, like he just figured something out. “It’s Chai for you. And I thought you wanted to see me?”
Meer thinks he is going to faint. Why is fate so clement with him today? Is it to balance with the near-death experience of last week? He cannot suppress a grin or the red that covers his cheeks.
“Hia… Chai,” he adores how the name rolls on his tongue. He is pretty much resisting the urge to scream right now, instead smiling like an idiot. “Yeah, I did. Why aren’t you wearing your white coat? You look… different.”
It may just be wishful thinking, but Meer swears he saw the man flush at the nickname.
“Oh, I’m not on duty right now. Listen, Meer. I can’t be your doctor anymore. You must not enter my office ever again under any condition. Is that clear? I’m gonna have problems if you do.”
The cloud Meer has been on until now evaporates as the illusion seems to vanish and the cruel reality catches up to him. He’s upset and his expression betrays him. So this is where it’s going. Making small talk and acting friendly, only to get him out of his life. He thought that maybe, for once, he could love someone and be loved back. Is it too much to ask? Is he not deserving of any kind of love?
“What did you say? What do you mean, is it something that I did? I don’t get it, a few seconds ago you asked me to use your first name and now you don’t want to see me ever again, you’re contradicting yours-”
“It’s not you,” Chai cuts him off. “It’s about the legal implications. I thought about it at length and there is only one solution.” Biting his lips nervously, he takes one step forward, eyes looking straight into Meer’s. “I can’t be your doctor anymore, but I can be something else. Are you interested?”
Damn, he really is terrible at this feelings thing.
As soon as he hears it, the younger man’s face brightens up, the stormy expression quickly replaced by a sunny-like one. A joy he has never felt before fills his chest, and it’s the most pleasant thing he’s ever felt. He cannot believe that this is actually happening. He had never thought the doctor was interested in him at all.
“Hia, do you want to be… my boyfriend?” He questions the man before him, confused due to the ambiguous choice of words. He wants to make sure that he got it right.
Meer manages to see Chai’s blush even as the latter tries to remain cool and unfazed. An attempt that fails immediately when a smile decorates his face and Chai finds himself too happy to care about his facade.
Aloof doctor, huh? Who knew a shy and cute man hid behind that persona?
“Not… Not so fast. You’re skipping steps here. Take me on a date first, hm?”
The black-haired man nearly squeaks as he hears him say date. This Chai really is serious about being his something else?
Meer is beaming, eyes wrinkling in happiness and Chai is delighted that his spark is back, Meer’s vibrant aura reflected by the zenith, bringing colors in Chai’s black and white world by his sole presence.
“As you wish, doc- I mean Hia Chai,” he winks at the older man in an attempt to be flirty although he thinks crutches and sexiness do not really go well together.
“Have you eaten lunch yet? There’s this new place that just opened nearby, I’ve been wanting to try it forever.”
The grin on Meer’s face only widens, a hundred of butterflies in his stomach. So this is what real happiness feels like? “I haven’t yet. Shall we, Hia?”
“Let’s go. Don’t worry, I brought my car. I know you can’t walk much.”
“Where have you been hiding that sweet side of yours all this time?”
Chai has this silly smile he cannot get rid of even if he tried. “Maybe it was dormant and waiting for the right person to show itself.”
“Hm, we should go now before I kiss you before we even have our first date,” Meer teases him.
The date, that ends up being absolutely lovely, is soon followed by a couple others, the duo taking their time to get to know each other without rushing into a relationship. At the end of the fifth one, Chai officially asks Meer to be his boyfriend, and Meer jumps into his arms, nodding excitedly and pulling him into a loving kiss.
“You’re so handsome, Hia, do you know that?” Meer tells him years later, as he’s kissing him all over his face, palm on his cheek and legs pressed against his lover’s thighs, cozy on his lap. As it’s a warm summer afternoon, they decided to idle on their yard’s deck chairs — or rather deck chair, since Meer immediately used this opportunity to come bother Chai. The latter gladly lets him, giving in too easily any time Meer is involved. They call it love, but to them it is so much more. They think about what they have, sometimes, about how they mutually brought colors to each other's lives. Meer told him once that it was the first time he ever truly felt loved and could love in return, and when he teared up, Chai did too.
“I know, you tell me every day. Ouch, it’s cold.” Chai can feel the metal of Meer’s ring on his face, and wraps a hand around Meer’s forearm for revenge, making the younger feel the metallic coldness of his own ring. When the latter flinches, he knows he succeeded.
“Hia, is it a ring or a deadly weapon? You want me to die another time?” The man pouts, while Chai turns visibly pale. The words meant purely as a joke create a feeling of uneasiness within him as he tries to stop the flashbacks from that very night from resurfacing.
“You’re not allowed to die,” he replies, his voice low and vulnerable. “I won’t let you.”
The sentence gets a grin out of Meer, who nuzzles in his lover’s neck with a giggle. “That’s gay. I like it.”
When Chai slides an arm around Meer’s back, holding him close, Meer notices something is wrong. He looks up, locking their eyes. “Don’t worry, Hia, I can’t die easily. I’m tougher than I look. And I got my very own doctor to take care of me if I get hurt.”
This seems to calm him down. Chai begins to tenderly stroke the dark hair tickling his neck. “Taking advantage of me, I see. Is this why you married me? You wanted free consultations at home?”
“Maybe. Guess you’ll have to wait and find out.”