Freedom Is The Oxygen Of The Soul.

China Dolls, Love Notes, Angry Sex and Us.

Black's anger boiled as he sat on his bed, his fingers tracing the delicate curves of the china figurines Gram had gifted him. To Black, they felt like cold reminders of a friendship that had started to unravel.

Gram's behavior had shifted, and it felt like he was avoiding Black as though he was infected. Avoiding his gaze, dodging any interaction. Black had witnessed at least four separate occasions Gram had literally run away from him as he tried to talk.

Anger bubbled in Black's chest. "Does he think I don't notice? Does he think I'm fucking blind?" Black growled to himself, slamming the figurines down as if they were mocking his feelings.

His boots hit the floor with a thud as he stormed out of his room. Determination coursed through his veins, the need to unravel this tangled mess overpowering any rational thought. "He's hiding something, and I'm not letting him get away with it." He muttered to himself, his voice dripping with frustration.

The worn handle of Gram's dorm door turned under Black's grip as he swung it open. He knew Gram would be with Nuch, their heads probably bent over some stupid class assignment that Black would just steal from him later.

"Maybe he is disgusted..." Black's mind spun, his thoughts a whirlwind of insecurity and doubt. "Maybe he doesn't feel the same way," he muttered curses under his breath, frustration clawing at his insides.

"Stupid Gram," Black hissed as he edged the door open, his eyes scanning for signs of Gram's presence. Empty. And that emptiness echoed the void that had grown between them.

Gram's absence gave Black free rein. His fingers ransacked drawers, his desperation urging him to uncover the truth. But minutes stretched into half an hour, and his search cropped up nothing. Doubt began to gnaw at him. "Was I just blind? Was I reading too much into things?" Black's confidence waned, replaced by a sense of hopelessness.

"I thought for sure that he felt the same way..." Black didn't want to cry; he could feel the weight of his feelings gnawing at his heart as he sat on Gram's bed.

Then it caught his eye - an inconspicuous black leather box perched on a stack of books. Fear prickled at his skin. He knew this room like the back of his hand; this box was new, uninvited. Dread settled in his stomach as he reached for it, the air heavy with anticipation.

Inside, a lighter Black was sure he had lost and a tangle of chain necklaces greeted him. The necklaces - his necklaces - lay there as if mocking his confusion. "What the hell?" Black's mind screamed as he grappled with the surreal sight. Why would Gram have his belongings tucked away?

With trembling hands, Black shifted the pile of necklaces, revealing a small round card underneath. His heart raced as he picked up the card, his fingers trembling with a mixture of fear and curiosity. "What secrets are you hiding, Gram?" He mumbled.

The card bore a cartoon drawing of the figurines, the blue dinosaur and white dog intertwined, and then he saw the words, etched in Gram's handwriting, something Black would recognise anywhere.

"ขอโทษที่รู้สึกมากกว่าเพื่อนไป"

"I'm sorry for feeling more than a friend."

Black's breath caught in his throat as he read the words aloud, as if speaking them into existence would irrevocably change the world around him. He felt the weight of Gram's confession, the tremors of realisation threatening to knock him off balance.

"This fucker!" Black's anger surged back to life, coursing through him with a burning intensity. The card crumpled in his fist, his grip unrelenting, as if he could crush Gram's mixed signals along with it.