Answers

978 105 47
                                    

Kongpob's Pov---------

I awoke slowly...my eyes adjusting to the dim light.

Where was I ??

Oh Yes !!

I was in my bedroom in Oregon .

I let myself take in the soothing colour of the walls and carpet, the deep red of the bedspread and the black leather furniture. When I was 15.... I had asked my mother if I could have a new look for my room. She laughed when I suggested RED, lots of red. Then she sent me to stay with a friend for a couple of days. When I came back, my room had changed, for the better. It looked bold, but classy too. There were lots of red touches in the bedspread and the drapes, but it wasn't gaudy. I still loved coming home to this room that my mother had created for me.

While I stretched and continued to wake up, I thought back over the last week.

The kidnapping.....

The shooting.....

The breaking of my hand...

And then...... Arthit.

Arthit...who rescued me...

Arthit...who could calm me...and yet make me quiver with anticipation...

Arthit...who filled my dreams...and then was there with me each time I awoke...

Arthit...who made me laugh and think and want...

Arthit...Arthit.....and just Arthit

I was really tired and I hated feeling so weak. All of the doctors assured me that this was normal, that I would start to feel stronger in time. But I had to follow their orders to get better. The only bright part of that thought was that Arthit had promised to help me, to be here for me.

And here we are, in Oregon........

In Oregon where he had promised to answer all my questions. There were so many of them stirring around in my thoughts.

How had he found me at that beach house ??

How had he broken that chain ??

I have never seen Arthit eat or drink anything, or any of them do so for that matter. What was up with that ??

So many questions...but was I ready for the answers ??

I already knew that he was something else..... something otherworldly.

Was I ready to find out exactly what Arthit was ??

I thought so..... I hoped so......

During the past week his entire family had been to the hospital to see me, some of them more than once. Their eyes were all same charcoal shade, but with Arthit that changed Sometimes..... sometimes Arthit's eyes were a shade of amber, sometimes deep black. They were the deepest charcoal shade on the morning of our flight to Oregon. Everyone was in his family was so beautiful, extraordinarily so. They mostly communicate with their eyes or shake or nods of their heads.... like they could telepath.

I knew that I could have asked at least some of these questions during the week. But Arthit said that he would answer all my questions when we got here. Maybe I was afraid of the answers to questions that I could barely even fathom.
All I did know for sure is that all my thoughts seemed to be revolving around Arthit. My recovery was important, but the thought of playing some music for him was what kept my spirits up when they were flagging. Music just wasn't as important as it had been before...before Arthit.

We would be talking and laughing with Bright and he would move somewhere in the room. Without even thinking about it, I would find myself angling my body to be closer to him. It was gratifying to see him turn towards me too.

Guardian Angels ( Completed )Where stories live. Discover now