It had been two weeks since the accident.
Two long, exhausting weeks filled with sleepless nights, cold hospital air, and the constant fear that Keng might never open his eyes again.
Ping barely left his side.
Every morning before lectures, he would wake up in the stiff hospital chair beside Keng's bed, fix the blanket that always slipped from Keng's shoulders during the night, and whisper a quiet
"Good morning, Hia,"
even though there was never a response.
And every evening after classes, he came rushing straight back to the hospital without stopping anywhere else.
He talked to Keng constantly.
Sometimes about school.
Sometimes about Rain and the others.
Sometimes about nothing important at all.
"I got scolded by the lecturer today because I wasn't paying attention,"
Ping murmured one afternoon while gently wiping Keng's hands with a warm towel.
"But it's your fault. I keep thinking about you instead."
Silence.
Only the soft beeping of the monitor answered him.
Ping smiled weakly anyway.
"You better wake up soon, Hia. I'm getting tired of talking alone."
But when the room became too quiet... when the fear became too heavy... Ping cried. Quiet tears at first. Then trembling shoulders. Then silent breakdowns where he held Keng's hand like it was the only thing keeping him together.
Unknown to Ping, Keng's parents visited often too.
They always came late in the evenings or early in the mornings, standing outside the room where Ping couldn't notice them immediately.
Keng's mother watched with tearful eyes every time she saw Ping carefully taking care of her sick son, adjusting his pillows, or resting his head against the side of the bed after crying himself to sleep.
More than once, she wanted to walk inside. To thank him. To comfort him. To tell him he didn't have to carry everything alone.
But Keng's father always stopped her.
"Not now," he would say quietly.
So they stayed hidden in the background, watching silently. And Ping never knew.
The only times Ping left the hospital were for lectures. At first, he had refused completely.
"I'm not leaving him," Ping had said stubbornly when Rain tried convincing him.
But Rain crossed his arms and glared at him seriously.
"And what happens when Senior Handsome wakes up and finds out you skipped classes because of him?"
Rain asked.
"He'll definitely scold you."
Ping had gone quiet after that.
Because Rain was right. Keng would absolutely scold him.
So Ping attended lectures reluctantly, though his mind never stayed in class for long.
Every second away from the hospital made his chest ache with anxiety.
One evening, after returning from school exhausted and emotionally drained, Ping dropped his bag beside the chair and sat near Keng again.
The sunset light filtered softly through the hospital curtains, painting the room in warm orange tones.
Ping gently brushed Keng's hair away from his forehead.
"Hia..." he whispered softly.
His fingers lingered there for a moment before he smiled faintly.
"A lot of things are happening at school lately."
No response.
Ping continued anyway.
"Actually..." He laughed quietly.
"A lot of guys have been asking me out recently."
He tilted his head dramatically like he was seriously considering it. "
Maybe it's because I look handsome now."
Still nothing.
"But don't worry," Ping added quickly, squeezing Keng's hand gently.
"I told them I already have a boyfriend."
His voice softened.
"Even if my boyfriend is being really lazy right now."
Ping lowered his head slightly, his forehead brushing against Keng's arm.
"So wake up soon and come take your place, Hia."
For a second, everything stayed still.
Then- Keng's fingers twitched.
Ping froze.
His eyes widened instantly.
"...Hia?"
Nothing.
Ping stared at their intertwined hands, his heartbeat accelerating.
Maybe I imagined it... But then Keng's fingers moved again. Clear this time. Obvious. Real.
Ping shot up so quickly his chair nearly fell backward.
"Hia!" he cried, gripping Keng's hand tightly.
"Hia, can you hear me?!"
He immediately slammed the emergency button near the bed. Within seconds, doctors and nurses rushed into the room.
Ping stepped back nervously while they checked Keng's vitals and shined lights into his eyes.
Then one of the doctors leaned closer.
"...Ping..."
The voice was weak. Barely audible.
But Ping heard it.
Every doctor in the room turned.
"Who's Ping?" one of them asked quickly.
"I-I'm Ping," he answered immediately, tears already forming in his eyes.
The doctor nodded.
"I think he recognizes your voice," he said gently.
"Talk to him." The doctor said and left.
Ping hurried back to the bedside, clutching Keng's hand tightly.
"Hia... I'm here," he whispered shakily.
"You're safe now. I'm right here."
Keng's eyelids fluttered weakly before finally opening.
His gaze was blurry at first. Confused. Then it landed on Ping. And softened instantly.
"Don't cry..." Keng whispered hoarsely.
Ping hadn't even realized tears were already streaming down his face.
"I'm not crying," he lied terribly, laughing through his tears.
Keng slowly lifted his trembling hand and brushed his thumb beneath Ping's eyes.
"You're such a liar," he murmured weakly.
Ping laughed again, though it broke halfway into another sob.
"You scared me so much, Hia."
"I'm sorry," Keng whispered.
He tried sitting up slightly, and Ping immediately helped support him carefully.
Keng rested weakly against Ping's shoulder, exhausted.
"I argued with my parents..." he admitted quietly.
"Then I drove while my head was a mess. After that... I only remember hearing your voice."
Ping tightened his arms around him immediately.
"You don't have to explain anything right now," he whispered.
"You're here. That's enough."
The room suddenly fell silent again. Ping turned toward the doorway and froze.
Keng's parents stood there quietly.
Ping immediately stood up too fast, nearly stumbling over the chair in panic.
"Uncle-Auntie-I..."
He didn't know whether to bow, apologize, or leave. But before he could decide, Keng's mother walked toward him and pulled him into a warm hug.
"Thank you," she whispered emotionally.
"Thank you for taking care of my son."
Ping blinked rapidly in shock.
"I... I didn't really..."
"You stayed beside him every day," she said softly.
"I know."
Ping's throat tightened.
Then Keng's father finally spoke.
"Ping."
His deep voice instantly made Ping nervous again.
"Can I speak with you outside for a moment?"
Keng frowned immediately.
"Dad-"
"It's alright," Keng's mother interrupted gently.
Ping swallowed nervously before following Keng's father outside the room.
The hallway felt painfully quiet.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then Keng's father sighed heavily.
"Thank you for taking care of my son," he began seriously.
Ping lowered his head politely.
"I only did what I should."
Keng's father studied him carefully.
"How do you know what you feel for him is really love?"
Ping blinked slightly at the question.
Ping smiled softly.
"Well..." he said quietly, "I'm willing to take care of P'Keng for the rest of my life."
Keng's father looked surprised.
Ping continued slowly. "He's loud sometimes. Annoying too. He acts confident all the time..."
Ping laughed softly.
"But he's also kind. He protects the people he loves. And somehow... he became someone my world revolves around."
His expression softened completely.
"He's like a storm and a light at the same time."
Keng's father stayed silent.
"But don't you care that you're both men?" he finally asked bluntly.
Ping looked down briefly before smiling again.
"In a world where there's love," he said softly, "why should gender matter that much?"
For the first time since meeting him- Keng's father laughed quietly.
"You two really are alike," he murmured.
Ping looked up in surprise.
The older man sighed tiredly before placing a hand on Ping's shoulder.
"Your response has put my mind at ease.
I'm glad my son is in love with someone like you. No wonder he was even willing to risk his life for you," Keng's father said, patting Ping's shoulder.
"Please... take care of my son. And if Keng ever makes you sad, or if you need anything... come to me."
Ping felt a warmth in his chest he had never felt before.
For the first time, Keng's father didn't look irritated by his presence.
The fear Ping had carried melted away, replaced with a deep sense of relief and happiness.