Work Text:
The light spilling into the room from the balcony windows illuminates Sand’s head, making his babyhair look like a halo. Ray stares, transfixed, at the dust particles glittering around it. Lately they have been venturing into fantasy stories and his mind runs away from him imagining Sand covered in fairydust. Some otherworldly aura shining from him.
A click of a lock brings him back to the present. He blinks, lowering his eyes and catching his boyfriend's amused ones. One of them winks at him. Ray, unashamed of being caught, points with his chin to the homework scattered on the table in front of Sand whose lips stretch into a wider smile before he goes back to working on it. Personally, Ray wouldn't give a damn about it but his love is very determined to do well so here they are. Not kissing, or hugging, or doing something otherwise enjoyable. He thinks he is being very brave about this, only hanging around him with their girls. Never interrupting. Just occasionally sighing mournfully, making the cats purr and Sand coo (but not ditch his books. How cruel of him.).
He jumps in his seat when a finger pokes at his cheek. Camp scrambles from his lap, her tail swishing angrily. Ray looks up, scowling upside down at Ton who must have walked inside while he got distracted once again. Frowns at the tight lines around his mouth, the nervous yet excited glint in his eyes.
“What?” He whispers, trying his best not to disturb Sand but it's a pointless gesture as he can hear him putting his pen down with a soft click.
Ton’s eyes dance from him towards Sand and back. He stretches out a hand to scratch Micro, who jumped onto the table, under the chin.
“The exhibition is ready.”
When both his and Sand’s congratulatory exclamations die down, Ton mumbles he would like to show it to him first. Today. He sounds and looks so awkward while doing so that it takes Ray a moment to register the meaning of his request.
“Just me? Right now?”
Ton nods. Ray glances at Sand who shrugs while chewing on his lips. Then stops doing that to pout at their roommate.
“What about me? I want to see it too.”
“You will. Just ahh I need his opinion and umm,” Ton suddenly avoids their gazes “he was the first person I showed my photography to. It just feels right.”
In other circumstances Ray would have felt offended to be talked about as if he wasn't in the room too but he lets the offense slide due to the warmth spreading from his heart to all his limbs. First he was asked to help with choosing the space for Ton’s studio. Now this. Pleasure travels through him. The knowledge that his words and his presence are so important to his best friend boost up his ego, at the same time making him feel all fragile. I really matter to people. To him, he thinks. It’s something he came to learn these past two years but sometimes declarations like this still catch him off guard. Make his breathing stop and heartbeat quicken. He blinks away the tears that sprung to his eyes.
Sand, whose face softened during Ton’s explanation, looks at him briefly and extends his hand towards their friend who catches it with his own. He seems to be bringing his attention towards himself to give him time to process all this mushiness. Due to the way he is already feeling, his love’s simple gesture that came from knowing what he needs without having to ask, makes him blink even faster. Through a blurry vision he observes how once Ton gets tugged closer to Sand, his boyfriend drops his hand and wraps his arm around his waist. Squeezes him to himself for a few seconds, head pressed to his side.
Looking up, Sand complains with a playful glint in his eyes: “Have you seen my cuddle bug? He has been out of reach for maaany days.”
Ton smooths his palm over Sand’s hair. “Sorry. I’ve been busy with the exhibition, and work, and-”
“Och don't make such a pained face. I get it. Just had to let it be known you’re missed.” After squeezing Ton again he slackens his hold on him, allowing him to take a step back. “How are things with the boyfriend? He must be among your ‘busy with’ reasons, right?”
“Mmm. I’ve seen him a few times,” Ton mumbles.
Ray pets Micro while they talk about the new guy. He should be getting himself sorted out during the moment their attention isn't on him but seeing them together after such a break doesn't actually help in stopping his insides from melting. Now that they have Ton so close once again, speaking to them for longer than a few seconds in between hurrying somewhere, it’s like some weight, that Ray didn't even know he was carrying, was lifted from his shoulders. He thinks Sand looks a little more cheerful too. Which is quite silly of them. Just a couple days without Ton being around and they were both starting to get unsettled. Funny how fast the human brain gets used to something. In this case: Ton’s constant presence and his new, clingy self.
Ray tunes into their conversation when he hears the magical word food.
“...food to celebrate a job well done?”
“I would love to but maybe some other time? The viewing may take us a couple of hours. You have eaten already?” While speaking, Ton twists Sand’s ponytail around his fingers. Exhales in relief at their nods.
“Fine. I’m buying you cake though. Or are you going to drop Ray off and go somewhere else to sleep?”
Ray frowns. That's actually a valid question. There were a few nights during which Ton wasn't home. Would he disappear on them once again?
“I will stay home.”
Ray relaxes against his chair. That's good.
This time Ton is the one to pull Sand towards himself for a hug. There is quite a peculiar expression on his face that Ray can't put his finger on but he doesn't get to wonder about it for too long as Ton seems to lose it the moment he catches his gaze.
“Can we go now?”
“Let me just change my clothes. Five minutes and I will be ready.”
☆
In the car Ray flicks the plushie keychain hanging from the rearview mirror that wasn't there two weeks ago. He wouldn't focus on it with such intensity if it wasn’t a goose. An animal Ton has had a vendetta against since he was five years old. He was chased by one during a kindergarten trip to the countryside. Ray saved him by holding the doors to the barn ajar just so the other boy could slip inside and closing them in the animal's face. They had to wait there until their teacher figured out they were missing and found them which wasn't hard as the bird was squawking and stomping near the doors. They became best friends that day. (Sand laughed a lot when he heard that story. Recounted by them with dramatics such an adventure warranted. Then had to cook them something nice for the slander. Ton thought his near death experience wasn't a laughing matter while Ray was quite proud of his mini self’s heroic gesture.)
“Why is it here?”
“It’s a keychain, Ray. It just… hangs.”
Ray rolls his eyes. “You don't say… It’s a goose though.”
“Present from the boyfriend.”
When Ray flicked that offensive thing once again, looking at it with disdain, Ton swatted at his fingers.
“Stop that.”
“He should know you hate them.”
“It hasn't even been a month since we met.”
“He is slacking. I knew your opinion of them from the moment you grew to hate them.”
“YOU WERE THERE.”
Huffing, Ray folds his arms across his chest. “Slacking.”
“You’re being ridiculous. Just so you know.”
Silence descends upon them after that. Broken only by the occasional drumming of Ton’s nails against the steering wheel. His friend looks a little bit pale. The teeth he digs into his lips leave little indents in them. Before Ray can do anything about that Ton blurts out:
“There won't be any of his photos there. I’m just saying this in case you will be wondering later on. I already had everything planned and… and yeah no last minute changes.”
Ray isn't sure if he would notice their absence as he doesn't care about that dude much to begin with but nice to know. The explanation doesn't sound like a whole truth but it could be because of all this secrecy Ton surrounds the exhibition with. Also, he got a hint!
“So you did use the ones with us in them.”
“Mmm”
“I’m sure they are nice. You had the best models,” Ray grins.
“Yeah”
He sounds so unsure Ray can actually feel his eyes widening. Enough is enough.
“Why the hell are you so nervous? I’ve seen your photography for years. Always said I love it.”
“I know, I know. Just… not arranged with a theme . Many of the photos I used there you actually hadn't seen and not all of them are of humans.” Ton exhales slowly. Musters a tentative smile. ”It’s… anticipatory nervousness? Among other things, I’m excited to show the final result to someone that actually knows me but there is always a what if.”
“Haven't the girls seen it? Since they helped you out.”
At this comment Ton finally starts looking a little bit more like his usual self. Colour returns to his face. A cocky grin blooms on it.
“Nope. I was as vague as I could with describing to them what I want to achieve. Just showed them the space. Made them colour patches for the pics. Stuff like that. They had only seen the photos from the Parade.”
“You sound quite proud of yourself. The girls must have been annoyed with you,” Ray snickers.
Nodding, Ton barks out a short laugh. “ Very. They actually said that this was one of the most frustrating projects they both ever had. And that even though it was exciting, if I ever ask them to do something like that again you all will never find my body.”
“And yet despite being vague you still had to buy their silence.”
Ton glances at him and winks. “Not exactly. It’s what they want you all to think. At least I’m pretty sure they enjoy seeing you all sweat about it. And Nick’s little bribes. Especially P’Dokmai. She is corrupting our sweet April, I’m telling you.”
The image of April and P’Dokmai cuddled together on the couch at their last meeting at Nick and Dan’s flat pops into Ray’s mind.
“I think she enjoys being corrupted.”
“Och no doubt about that,” Ton laughs. “Sometimes when I was alone with them, I felt like a third wheel.”
He may have scrunched his nose in displeasure but he sounds quite fond, his tone warm. The visible to Ray corner of his lips lifts up, shoulders shake minutely as if he remembered something funny.
“But you enjoy hanging out with them.”
“I do.”
☆
Ray thought Ton will walk with him through the exhibition, explaining things to him or just checking his reactions but as soon as they arrived at the entrance to the room it is held at, he left him all alone. Told him to take his time, that he will see him at the end, and disappeared before Ray could say more than startled Wait!. He gaped after him for a few seconds thinking that maybe it was just a prank or something but when he didn't come back he turned on his heel to face the doorless gap in the wall. There was another, painted navy blue wall just a few steps behind it. A harsh cold white light was spilling from the room. Ray had to blink a couple of times to adjust his eyes to it. Only then he focused on the stark white poster stuck to the wall in front of him.
It was bare of any decorations aside from a flowy script with the exhibition's title ‘The sense of belonging’ and Ton’s portrait under it on the left side. A photo that Ray took during the Pride Parade. Or rather after it, in the park. The one on which Ton’s face was halfway obscured by a rainbow flag, the visible eye scrunched with mirth and lips stretched in a wide smile. Ray caught him off guard while he was laughing at something, falling against Sand’s back. He remembers that moment vividly as they both almost toppled over, as Sand was talking to Mae and didn't expect to be used as a support, mere seconds after Ray snapped that pic. Under the photo, in tiny font it’s written: Through best friend’s eye, credit to R.P. Next to the portrait in bold black letters are stated Ton’s nickname, brief mentions of people who helped with the preparations, among them April and P’Dokmai’s names, and a “People willing to contact any of us professionally are asked to leave their contact information at the front desk.” Under all of it there is quite a long text:
This exhibition bares a lot of my heart. I am taking you on a journey through my life from the moment I left Thailand to the present. If you recognise me or any of the people whose faces will adorn many of the photos please be discreet about it.
Important:
People who only want to see Pride Parade photos are asked to step back and go to the doors on the right. Further instructions will be behind them.
Please start your viewing experience the moment a person before you disappears around the corner. Alone (if that is possible for you).
Claustrophobic people may need a companion with them.
For people with vision impairment and other eyesight conditions: There is braille under each photo. The audio narrated by me is also available in two versions - photos and rooms description as well as read aloud additional information to the photos or only read aloud additional information.
The corridors are wide enough for wheelchair users.
As you are done reading this, the person before you should be rounding the corner. I wish you a pleasant stroll. Please proceed.
The audio mention explains why the woman at the front desk asked Ton if they need an MP3 when he was signing their names in the workers lodge. Or somewhere. He didn't really pay much attention to that, too busy looking around.
Ray finally steps into the narrow space. There is a wall to his right, another poster with QR codes to those audio stuff on it. To his left a few meters long corridor stretches out. He can see photos in various sizes adorning the walls on both sides. They seem to be hanging on them in thin white frames. It makes them look like blocky clouds clinging to the dark blue sky.
Just as he was about to near the first photo, Ray pauses mid-step and backtracks towards the QR codes. If Ton doesn't want to accompany him physically, at least his voice will be with him. He puts the earbuds that never leave his pocket into his ears, and scans the code with only the read aloud additional information. Now he begins. The echo of his steps taken on the dark marble floor filling the air around him.
It starts from a photo of a lonely luggage at an airport lounge. Blurry people hurrying around it. A wall wholly made out of windows behind it. And behind them tiny planes on the tarmac.
Once Ray hits ‘play’ Ton’s voice croons into his ears.
Behind me: a mess, false accusations, people that I have hurt and those that hurt me, broken beyond repair friendships, three phone numbers to hang onto, my dad (well not really but it felt like it).
In front of me: new beginning, excitement of the unknown, clean slate, my passion, anonymity, my mom, happiness.
Or so I thought.
Then there is an aerial view of Thailand in the daylight and another one of New York, during the night.
Being in the air so far above others makes you feel infinite. You don't have to do anything. You wound no one, and no one wounds you. Everything feels so small and insignificant. Distant. Sometimes you don't want the plane to land. Let’s just fly forever through the clouds, you wish secretly. And then it’s night, city lights twinkle on the ground as if the night sky took a tumble and the stars escaped from it to live among humans. You want to join them on their adventure.
Behind him on the opposite wall are various shots of clouds, a portrait of a stewardess with a warm smile, Ton’s mom waiting among blurry people, sights on their way from the airport.
Ray rounds the corner. And then another. He could swear the corridors are getting wider, the blue on the walls certainly gets lighter. Ton's life in New York spans three turns, eleven walls. It’s full of shots of clubs, bodies on the dance floor, architecture, occasional people from his photography courses, random animals.
His mother's hands working on some dough on their spacious kitchen island.
I missed her cooking. Her baking. Her warmth and her voice. Her smile. Her. Then softly, in a whisper: But the sadness over the fact that she left to live so far away still stings.
A cinema illuminated by the rising sun.
I felt very lonely that day. Seeing all those couples and friend groups at the cinema made me painfully aware how far I was from my own people. My only friend at that time really. And even that was a connection in stages of rebuilding. In a moment of weakness I texted him. I'm glad I did. Got a cheer up material not only from him but someone dear to his heart too. It helped.
Ray remembers that day. Ton texting him a line inspired by Barbie of all the movies. Worrying him by not responding to his question. He confessed to Sand he felt like something was wrong. Now he got confirmation that he was right. He is glad they both could bring him some peace of mind. Sniffs at the fact that it really was needed.
Portraits of those models Ton texted him about. Inside of gardens and buildings that were closed to the public.
The thrill of being allowed to step into a secret place. But what I loved the most was how it affected the people that were with me. Masks had fallen. Welcome: joy, awe, envy, even anger. A feast for my eyes and my camera.
Laptop on a messy bed. The Ghibli movie paused on it. Another shot of a laptop, this time on the table stationed on the balcony. And Ray only knows that because he saw it a lot, for a casual viewer it would be indistinguishable. The main focus on this one is the screen. Captured on it is a skype meeting from that time Mae met everyone.
Sometimes I wished I could teleport. When I was needed but unable to come. Or when I yearned to be present to feel all that warmth. (Was this how my mother felt all these years?)
Buildings photographed from below, looking as if they are leaning threateningly over people's heads.
A big foreign city looms above a man that feels like a loose change in a giant's pocket. It’s time to say goodbye.
A small portion of a wall connecting the corridors is covered in portraits of men. Some clothed, some not. It makes him snort then smile widely. The loneliness oozing from the photos he saw so far was haunting him. The feeling that Ton was lost, happybutnot was suffocating. Brought back his own experience of smiling on the outside but collapsing more and more on the inside. It’s good to see some of his old self. To know he took more photos like this than he thought.
Rounding the corner Ray blinks. It’s his face from the profile. Sunglasses (Sand’s) covered eyes focused on driving, the corner of his mouth upturned.
I came back. He said he was waiting for two hours before my flight was scheduled to land, just in case we arrived earlier. As if that’s possible, what a doofus.
I’m sorry. Thank you. (You know what for.)
Ton’s room. His dad working in the garden, illuminated in such a way his face is unrecognisable. YOLO’s front, Sand smoking in the shadows. Nick swallowed by the crowd at some party (Friendship most unexpected.). Micro and Camp (My nieces. Best fluffballs.). Streets of Bangkok (I missed it, who would have thought.).
Their old couch looking slept on. Him, Sand and Nick tangled together, asleep on the floor.
I was offered to rest on it and then almost got my teeth knocked out by a lunatic throwing himself at me. As if he didn't have his own bed. I was gracious enough to not kick him out. Then the other two made us all fall down. I bruised my elbow. (10/10 would do it again. Also how can an old couch feel more comfortable than my luxurious bed?)
The inside of some bar. People smudged in various colours (digitally?).
Pity. Contempt. Indifference. Whispers everywhere I go. I forgot about it. I don't like it.
Last photo is hanging next to wide white doors. A table. On it Micro sniffs at Ton’s keys to the flat. His and Nick’s research about cats opened on pages about food.
Keys to my friends' flat. A new home. One of the most shocking moments of my life, truly.
He steps into the room and feels like he arrived in a different world. The room is big but not so much that it is overwhelming. No winding corridors. The walls are no longer blue but deep green. The lighting is different too. Warm and yellowish instead of harsh white like it was in the maze he just left. There is quite a big square column in its middle. It doesn't reach the ceiling and when he cranes his neck to look up a gasp leaves his lungs. He stumbles to one of the narrow benches that are placed in the space between the walls, barely registering that the floor is now covered in light wooden panels. He lays down on it. Drinks in the sight above him.
It’s a floorplan of Sand’s flat. Their flat. A splotches of colours mark the places Ton must have some stronger feelings about: red couch, brown coffee table, yellow kitchen sink, the stove, and the dining table, smudges of green where Sand’s plants are at, their bed - pink, Ton’s bed - orange, the bathroom sink and a bath are blue.
Before Ray can stand up and pay attention to the photos he has to close his eyes and breathe a little. He is getting overwhelmed, emotional. His heart hurts, gives painful squeezes. But he also feels so fond, so glad he gave their friendship a second (third?) chance. It’s all so dizzying.
Eventually he moves towards the pictures on the right side of the doors he just came through. It doesn't look like they are in any chronological order but he is going to round the room like an analog clock’s hand and then check out the ones around the column.
There are so many photos. More than in the previous room, he is sure of it. And once again they come in various sizes, their frames still thin but gold instead of white.
There are their cats. The new couch (An upgrade. I bought it myself. Not that I had to, it just felt right. This one too started to feel more comfy than my own bed.). View from the balcony. Flower pots (Basically our roommates.). Sand cooking something, his back to the camera (Kitchen: the place where magic happens.). Him and Nick cuddled together on Nick’s bed, asleep (Hobby searching turned into a nap. So cozy. We may have joined them.). Their group, before April and the others joined, during one of their ‘parties’ at the flat. (Family dinner. I'm no longer present through the screen but there, in the flesh. It's exhilarating. Calming.)
Table with four plates. Later on a one with many, many more, and looking like it may collapse under the weight of all the food on it.
A miracle: Me and my even more rich best friend learned how to cook. If you’re not impressed, you should be. What ‘princely asses’ do to see their loved ones happy? Food apparently.
There is Sand smiling widely. Skin around his eyes all wrinkled up. Staring straight at the camera. Sun shining around his hair turning into a halo just like the one he saw today.
Our sunshine. The maker of my damnation and my safe space. A conundrum.
Sand with his eyes glowing due to the firelight. Sand working on his music near the balcony doors. Taking care of the plants. Once again looking at the camera, illuminated by the light spilling from the open fridge doors, ice cream in his hands. Sand on the stage (Softest rockstar in the world.).
(Ray lingers in front of his photos the longest. He will need them all.)
P’Yo and P’Plug stealing a glance at each other behind the bar, above customers' heads. Both smiling.
Sickeningly sweet. The clients are there too, you know?
Dan draped over some working out machine Ray doesn't want to know the name of. Looking all sweaty, tired in that self-satisfied way.
The marshmallow whose gym regime scares even my own muscles. You’re welcome for the pic, N. Try not to drool.
(Ray snorts at that. He can already imagine Nick going all red but still grinning proudly. No doubt that photo - especially so big - will later land in his possession.)
Him looking at a laughing Sand with eyes full of adoration as if he hung the moon and the stars. The real him flushes from embarrassment over how obvious he is. How besotted he comes across (not a lie).
Admiration. Devotion. Get a room, honestly. (I'm happy for you, R.)
Him playing with Camp and Micro on the flat’s floor. Him lying on the grass during that picnic after siblings revelation, sky reflected in his eyes. Frowning fiercely at something on the pan, the tip of his tongue sticking out of his mouth (photo taken at the cooking academy). At the pottery studio, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and hands working on a bowl apparently.
Him and Sand dancing at some concert. Cuddled on the armchair at YOLO. Asleep on their bed turned towards each other and fingers intertwined, Ton shaped space empty between them.
Them running in the rain but still smiling brightly.
I told them to take an umbrella yet they didn't listen. Well at least it was after their date, not during it so I could snap that photo while waiting for them at the restaurant’s dry, cozy terrace.
(A lot of the photos are of him and Sand, alone and together. It warms his heart.)
Mae embracing P’Yo from behind, both laughing at something off-camera.
I got two more mothers somehow. At least it’s what they call themselves.
Them all gathered around the table that day April, P’Lek and P’Dokmai came over for the first time (The family grew bigger.)
Sand and his siblings lying on a blanket in the park, legs lifted to show off their new matching tattoos (Surprise: it’s triplets! Coolest siblings I have the privilege to know.)
April laughing while P’Dokmai draws something on the papers that on a closer look contain plans for this exhibition.
Remember their faces, they’re going to be famous. Or take over the world. Which would make them famous too, I guess.
Everyone gathered in his pottery studio, smudges of clay all over their clothes and visible parts of their bodies. Scattered all over the room and working on their own piece of art.
More group photos from the beach trip, the dinners at various homes, from the park after the Pride Parade (a rare one on which Ton allowed himself to show his dad’s face. Probably secure in the knowledge that there were other older people too and his appearance there wasn't unnoticed by the reporters. Low chance someone would instantly figure out Ton’s identity from this.), and from YOLO.
More photos of the Phis, April, Mae and Nick, taken while they were unaware the camera was pointed at them. Ton’s room with a joking annotation that he finally managed to kick its occupant out and take over.
When Ray rounds the column he finds another door but dismisses them for the time being despite curiosity nipping at his heels. He finishes perusing all the photos first, only then comes back to them.
Right after stepping inside he freezes. There are no frames on the walls. Which are bloody red, and so is the floor and the ceiling. Everything is covered in white quotes. Some letters are small. Some are big. Scribbles. Pretty, handwritten-like. Harsh and angry looking. Some lines make a circle, some crawl from the floor to appear on a lower portion of a wall. Some go like steps (a few words lower than the previous ones). He reads everything. Recognises some, can imagine who said some others.
I was wrong about your intentions. / I love you. As a friend. Especially now that I understand you better. / You make breathtaking photos. / I'm calling you a cab. / I'm sorry for not standing by your side. / What he said. That’s not you. /Do you want to order [...] from our favourite places, and then tell me all about it? / just had to share it quickly with you because !!!!!!! / Then come back. Go to sleep. Or do you need me to call? / The one about dying? Not anymore. Well. Not in a way I used to. / I had seen some change in the photos you had sent. So fucking good. / I read everything you write to me about this stuff, you know? / I will be there. / I'm perfectly fine with staying right here. / Are you hungry? / You took care of me first. / You will always be welcome here. / That guy they were describing? It wasn't you. Couldn't be you. / There is nothing in this situation that you are at fault for. / Do you want a hug? / Try to get some sleep. / Welcome to the family. / I’m taking time to really get better. / We need a new couch. Boston can't keep sleeping on that old thing. / It’s all taken care of. / Obviously I love you both too.
And so much more. Ray falls against the doors he closed without looking back. Cranes his neck to read what's written on the ceiling. The blood in his veins pumps fast. A steady thump thump thump of his heart resonates in his ears. He frowns. It shouldn't sound steady when it’s beating frantically. When he takes out his earbuds to focus only on it, the noise gets louder. He realises it wasn't coming from him but from the speakers attached to the corners of the walls that he previously didn't see. I’m inside Ton’s heart , he thinks in amazement. His own heartbeat starts to match the pace of the one he is being surrounded by.
It’s a while before Ray reads everything inside that small room, before he is ready to leave it. And even outside of it he still hears, feels in the tips of his fingers, the thumping.
There is another door. Ray doesn't know what more there could be. All the things are behind him and around him. What could Ton save for the last?
He opens them. It's another semi-big room, dark if not for the projector reflected on the far wall. There is a stream of photos from the Pride Parade (and Ray knows Boston took hundreds of them). He forgot they were what lured the owners of this place into contacting Ton, and were expected to be displayed. It’s a nice breather for him after the emotional assault from the previous rooms. Some part of him that is starting to calm down is in awe that Ton managed to work out the theme for this exhibition in a way that photos of strangers, with some of theirs among them, fit his personal ones.
Shadowy lumps on the floor catch his eye so he looks down. There are beanbags and pillows scattered around. When he steps into the room, a dark shape to his left snags his attention. He whips his head towards it. Stares, mouth agape.
It's a couch. Their couch. An old thing he thought Ton disposed of as he offered to take care of it the moment a new one arrived. There is a huge text above it 'Now that you know the significance of it, I hope you can feel the warmth that I felt from it. Especially if you are lonely or lost.'
Ray blinks. And blinks. Spins on his heel when he hears something moving behind him. Through wet lashes he sees his ridiculous best friend standing up from a chair backed against the corner of the room. He opens his arms. Ton’s body slams into his.
“What do you think?”
“I love it,” he whispers hoarsely.
What wants to escape his lips next is: I love you.
Fuck.
☆
Smaller words written next to the exit doors Ray hadn't seen yet: Be gentle to the world. There is a chance some in this world will be gentle back.