Love Letters ( English Translation)

2

Co-translator : phuchana_sibtis

Chapter 2: Close enough to touch hands, but not brave enough to speak
Once more Rashane woke up to the image of the barista's sweet smile. He took a deep breath and swore at himself, the voice still resounding in his heart.

‘What can I get for you?’

The young writer sighed with a chuckle. Simple, ordinary words in which the shop's staff would use with every customer- now circling his mind endlessly. Had he lost his mind or what? He was no longer a young boy finding love for the first time. Though Rashane had never experienced love at first sight in the past, this wasn't the first man in his life. So why couldn't he forbid his heart from thinking of the other?...

Having finished his daily routine, Rashane grabbed his car keys and the bags he packed the night before, finally leaving his room. He already booked accommodations as he had been preparing this trip for quite a while. Out of habit of writing from experience, he planned to write about the sea fog at Khao Kho in Phetchabun Province for his latest work. Rashane wanted to stay there to take in the atmosphere and collect information on his own even though searching online for this type of info is more popular and convenient for many reasons.

After about five hours or so, Rashane had brought himself to his getaway accommodation amongst delightful nature. The entire drive there, his heart continued to search for the young man from the cafe; the man who caused him to feel the fluttering of thousands of butterflies in his stomach upon their meeting to the point of being rendered speechless. He couldn’t imagine getting to know him in this state.

Rashane placed his suitcase beside the bed and opened the large glass door for some fresh air on the balcony, taking in the wide view in front of him. He didn’t have to use his imagination to see just how beautiful the mountains were when draped in sea mist. He travelled a long way to experience this peaceful and dreamy atmosphere perfectly suited for sipping tea and writing novels. Yet the content of his novel was not what occupied his mind. Rashane closed his eyes and exhaled a slow and weary breath. At least during his stay at the resort he focused most of his time collecting information- otherwise he had no idea how to concentrate on stringing words together to create a story. As long as it kept his mind busy, it was enough to help even a little.

. . . . . .

During the 3-day 2-night stay at Khao Kho, Rashane was determined to stick to his intentions because of his sense of responsibility and love for his work. This was enough for him to record the information he needed- but it seemed whenever he took a break from working, a certain rich smile appeared in his head.

Upon returning to Bangkok, the young writer pulled into the parking lot of his condominium that evening. He intended to head straight for the coffee shop to see the owner of the smile his heart couldn’t forget after showering and putting away his luggage. Yet he knew there was a slim chance of being able to make eye contact.

Rashane brought himself to stand in front of the elevator inside the condo. In his mind was the image of the beautiful atmosphere of sea fog, as well as a beautiful smile directed at him. Nearing his thirties, he never thought he would fall in love- with someone who doesn’t even know his name- to the point of hindering his thoughts like this.

As the elevator arrived in front of him, Rashane stepped inside and pressed the button for the twelfth floor. But before he could press the door close button, a young man in uniform suddenly rushed into the elevator. Rashane didn’t believe his eyes at first. He came to the conclusion that he had simply hallucinated as a result of thinking of the boy too much. But the moment the other turned to smile at him, he felt as a withered tree receiving water and care: pure fulfillment and joy.

Puwanat turned back to the elevator keys to press his floor, and upon seeing that the other man had already pressed the same floor, he simply flashed another smile. The young man beside him immediately turned his eyes away. Riding the elevator with someone you don’t know can feel a bit awkward at times, so he didn’t think much of the gesture. He absentmindedly shifted his gaze to the floor numbers, oblivious to the raging heartbeat of the man sharing the elevator with him.

The elevator quickly finished its ascent to the twelfth floor. Puwanant stepped out and turned to his room two doors down from the elevator. Rashane nearly stopped breathing when he learned that he walks past his room every day, living just steps away from him at that.

The writer’s heart beat faster as he watched the door shut behind the other. Walking to stand in front of his own room at the end of the hall, Rashane turned back to look at the room the boy had disappeared into- just a stone’s toss away- before turning the key and stepping into his own apartment.

Rashane had never been one to believe in fate, but for the first time in his life he felt that luck was on his side. The very first to make him experience love at first sight, to cause him to lose his calm nature and not dare to speak, lives in the same condominium as him- and the same floor. At this point, not acting upon the opportunity to become acquainted would make him the dumbest person in the building.

The tall young man placed his luggage on the floor of the room and began pacing in circles. He’s well aware of the fact that socializing does not come naturally to him. In the past, he only ever dated those he knew well beforehand. It wouldn’t make sense for him to knock on his door and introduce himself. He couldn’t even look him in the eyes, let alone speak with him. So where would he find the courage to pursue him??
...Or would he compose his feelings word by word into a letter, letting the other get to know him through different stories at the tip of his pen…

Rashane’s heart suddenly swelled larger. He inhaled a slow and drawn out breath. Luck certainly favored him in bringing them so close in distance, as the only thing he could do well instead of speaking was none other than writing. This made it possible for him to write and send a letter to the other party directly. With that in mind he headed straight to his writing desk, opened the drawer and took out his notebook as well as a pen placed in a stationary box. His long slender hand lightly touched the blank page before he gradually lowered himself into a brown leather work chair. The young writer shifted his gaze to the entrance. His heart floated into a room not far from his as he thought of how to use his words in a way that won’t make the reader feel threatened.

The unsteady heartbeat of the writer began to calm. Rashane became sure that the paper and pen would be the way out for the feelings in his heart. He sat motionless for a moment before bringing the tip of the pen to meet the face of the page. He scribbled out everything from his heart with sincerity, as well as the hope that this letter, the most difficult he’d written in his life, wouldn’t be disregarded by the receiver.

This may be a strange start, but I want you to know that I mean well and have no intention of disturbing you.

I am just someone who loves to write, and writing enables me to convey my emotions through letters. These days, wireless communication has made people forget the true beauty of writing; the value a letter holds, the enchantment of the pen it was written with…

If you find no interest in being made aware of my existence through this letter, please fold it back into the envelope and leave it in the same spot it was found- I will give up my intentions of writing to you. But if you would like to become my friend through a small piece of paper- this sheet as the medium, the fine ink crafting into the alphabet- I ask you to keep this letter. I will continue to send stories for you to read regularly. I hope you don’t mind the friendship I have come to offer you through these words.

R.K.

Rashane read the message over and over again to be certain his words won’t cause the reader unease. He cautiously pulled the paper from the notebook’s binding along the perforation and folded it, placing it in an envelope and sealing it with care. Finally, he took a deep breath and rose from the chair to walk towards the entrance. By opening this door, he had to accept what was to come. If by the next day he saw this envelope returned to the place it was found after having already been opened, he must find another way of communicating- either that or give up hope. Having come to terms with this fact, the young man stepped foot into the hallway.

One… two… three… four… five…
With his eyes fixed on the door, Rashane subconsciously counted each step.

Twenty-two…

Two long legs found themselves outside the other door after just 22 wide strides. A wave of embarrassment rushed over Rashane as he realized what he’d just done. Hurriedly, he placed the envelope on the doormat and turned on his heels towards his own room.

. . . . . .

Inside the studio apartment perfectly sized for living alone, Puwanat placed his backpack on the sofa and walked to open the balcony door. As he stepped out, his eyes laid upon the neighboring houses and the coffee shop opposite to the condo. As much as he wanted to linger in the cool breeze and admire the view, he had to prepare to go to work. School let out later than usual which left him with no time to rest. Even so, he didn’t feel tired at all. Puwanat smiled a little to himself and closed his eyes. He lifted his face and took a deep breath.

Ahh… the refreshing smell of freedom.

The young student indulged in his thoughts for a long while before returning inside. One by one he undid the buttons on his shirt as he walked to the bathroom to shower. Once finished getting ready, he grabbed the small sling bag that he took to work everyday and opened the door of his apartment. He hadn’t even stepped out when he noticed an unmarked envelope placed on his doormat. In his mind he figured it to be a document from a legal figure, but he definitely didn’t have the time to open it to find out. So he left it on his study desk inside and finally set off to work.

Puwanat arrived at the coffee shop in just under a few minutes. He beamed  at himself in a good mood, not missing the stress of venturing into the hustle of commuting as he had to do in the past. The boy opened his personal locker and fastened his apron around his waist. He happily hummed to himself until greeted by another colleague just starting his shift as well.

“I see someone’s in a good mood today, Nat. Are you in looove or what?” The teasing voice came from the supervisor of the evening shift, Chaninthorn, making the young student laugh.

“What are you talking about, P’Thorn” he spoke with a laugh. “Just feeling pretty content today.”

“I’m not so sure about that, as good-looking as you are I wouldn’t find it strange for you to be seeing someone.” Chaninthorn said while sweeping his gaze to the work briefing book before speaking again; “If you could handle the stocks out front as usual and make your way up to the register once you're done. You hungry? Feel free to grab a bite first- you must be tired from class.”

“Thank you P’Thorn, today I’m not really hungry so I’ll wait until my break to eat.” Puwanat responded with a bright smile.

“Okay, suit yourself then” the young manager flashed a smile before heading out into the cafe.

Once finished preparing, the young man with the charming smile began his duties. He examined the products at the front of the store, taking note of what needs to be replenished so he can retrieve the items from the store room. It took him a few trips there and back before going to stand behind the counter.

After-work rush hour was always the most popular time for young office workers to stop by, making it the busiest part of the evening shift. After that period ended, each employee went on breaks in turns as usual. At the end of Puwanat’s break, returning to his station he found the shop’s owner speaking with Chaninthorn.

“Hello, P’Pan!” The young student raised his hands to wai along with his greeting. Pannawat, a.k.a. Kaopan, acknowledged the greeting with a smile and continued his conversation with the evening shift manager.

“I haven’t seen him in days. Typically he only comes later in the less busy hours; I’ve never seen him here in the early evening like this.” The overheard conversation didn’t draw Puwanat’s attention. But what did was the question that followed from Chaninthorn.
“Your type, P’Pan?”

“Ha ha, nooo” The young owner- who had always been open and friendly to all the staff- said through laughter and walked to use the coffee machine to make himself a cup.

“I also feel your type would be something along those lines; tall, dark, handsome and seemingly reserved…” Metha, another staff member, chimed in. This made Puwanat scan his eyes around the cafe. At the time, there were very few customers remaining; it wasn’t very difficult to find the man his colleagues were describing.

And so his gaze stopped at the reading nook of the shop, seeing a man with a solemn aura writing something in a notebook. But from the angle he stood at, it was difficult to see the other party’s face well.

“I don’t necessarily have a type, really. If that chapter of my life decides to come it will come on its own, doesn’t have much to do with taste. But I will say for sure that it’s not this customer- he looks too quiet.” Pannawat’s answer drew Puwanat’s eyes away from the man just as a customer approached the counter, therefore no longer interested in the stranger any further.

. . . . . .

Rashane’s heart danced without rhythm as he passed Puwanat’s room and saw that the letter he had placed at the entrance had disappeared.  Even so, he figured he should give it a few days as the other may not have read it yet. The young man brought himself down to the coffee shop with a longing for the aroma of coffee from his favorite corner, as well as the desire to see that bright smile. Upon his arrival, he was relieved to see that the person he wanted to meet was busy restocking cold drinks and not taking orders behind the counter. If they had to face each other directly like the time before, he’d probably end up running away back to the condo again.

A fragrant cup of coffee was placed on the table Rashane was seated at regularly. He leaned onto the back of the chair and glanced in Puwanat’s direction. A sudden warmth arose in his heart as his eyes met a pair of lips sending sweet smiles to customers in the shop. Rashane’s eyes locked onto the sight as if in a trance. And so his slender hand slowly opened his notebook, sharp eyes finally peeling away from the other’s face and onto the paper. Though the thought of this boy once hindered the author’s ability to concentrate on writing, his head was filled with letters of inspiration once more- as if having received positive energy from that smile. Rashane smiled to himself and began composing every word in his heart onto the novel.

A long while passed before the handsome face lifted from the notebook again. Rashane put down the pen and sat back in the chair, eyes still fixed on his writing. He raised his wrist to observe the time before taking a look at his surroundings; only a few customers remained seated inside the coffee shop. His needle-sharp eyes stopped at the radiating young man chatting and laughing along with his coworkers wearing a wide smile, and couldn’t help to slip a smile himself. He inhaled deeply with fulfillment before gathering his belongings and standing. Finally, he left the shop- but not without turning to take one last glance at Puwanat.

Back inside his apartment, Rashane walked towards his work table and opened the drawer to retrieve another notebook. He had thought about writing a second letter to Puwanat, even knowing he should hold out a little longer. A pair of eyes scanned the pages of the notebook, as well as the perforated lines in which the first letter was torn from. He closed and placed the notebook back in the drawer, planning to go buy special paper for writing letters periodically after returning from the coffee shop the next day. And yet, the fate of the first letter remained unknown.

. . . . . .

Today marks the third day after the young writer sent the first letter. His heart beat fast every time he walked past that door, even with the high chance of his letter being returned to the floor mat. Yet he wanted to reassure himself that the other had read it already, and doesn’t mind the proposed method of communication. Rashane wasn’t aware of the other party’s schedule, and had no interest in finding out. From the beginning he never had intentions of keeping up with his whereabouts and encroaching on his privacy. If he ever found himself in need of replenishment, he knew who he would find at his favorite coffee shop in the early evening- and that that time would also be the perfect opportunity to place the letters outside his door.
A warm cup of coffee sat upon a table inside the usual coffee shop. Different stories painted the pages of a notebook, drawn from the colors of the author’s imagination until the last drop of coffee was swallowed. Rashane placed down the pen and gazed at the outside world. The overcast skies and rain clouds being swept in by strong winds made the young man decide against a second cup. He closed the notebook and set off in the direction of the condo just in time before the rain came pouring from the skies.

He loved rainy days; pitter-pattering, the familiar earthy scent and cool damp air of nature’s lullaby. These kinds of days were perfect for staying home and writing novels. However in this moment, all he wanted was to write a letter telling a certain someone how this weather makes him feel and how it reminds him of other times in his life. Rashane sat in his writing chair and grabbed the special paper he had just bought the day before. He smiled gently at the blank page, as if smiling at the letter’s receiver himself. Every drop of in from the pen spoke from his heart and gave life to each character as it was scribbled down with the hope they would penetrate the heart of the person he fell in love with. The idea of slowly growing closer through these words strangely made him feel warmth and happiness, even without being able to speak to the other directly.
End Chapter Two