Rage

Ch-9 Feelings

Fang found herself ensnared in the clutches of muted emotions, a sense of detainment cloaking her feelings even as she drifted into a deep slumber. Amidst the tapestry of positive emotions—joy, gratitude, serenity, and more—evoked by Kim's recollections and the whimsical fantasy of stepping into his past, a subtle restraint lingered.

In a realm far removed, a prince stood amidst a picturesque scene on a breezy day, where vibrant flowers swayed with the wind. The air resonated with the cheerful melodies of chirping birds, and a peacock elegantly danced to an unseen rhythm. Despite the enchanting surroundings and the apparent merriment of all, an unexpected shadow draped the prince's demeanour. Amidst the joyous tapestry, an unanswered "Why?" hung in the air, as if his soul refused to partake in the festivity that enveloped the day.

Veiled in perpetual shyness, the Prince remains a mystery, confining himself to his room day in and day out. Deciphering the inner workings of his thoughts proves challenging, given his secluded existence. Embracing solitude and immersing oneself in nature, as the Prince does, unveils a profound experience—where unheard whispers and overlooked nuances come to life.

In the solace of isolation, direct conversations with birds unfold, a unique interaction with the natural world. It's a tranquil pursuit, offering moments of soothing respite. Yet, amidst the passage of time, the days can grow parched without the sustenance of love, a sentiment not always present but keenly felt.

Kim, far from ordinary, bore a complexity concealed beneath the veils of fame and wealth, harbouring myriad secrets. Despite wielding a formidable influence capable of dismantling others, he refrained. Misunderstood by her, their perspectives clashed, leaving her regretful and dismissive of her own emotions. The revelation of Kim's personal diary, an act verging on intrusion, evoked an emotional response, as its sentences painted a poignant portrait of a man seemingly burdened by misery and loneliness.

"It's not a day to be melancholy when I see no one near me, but I sighed heavily with recollections of happier times.

I attempted to cry, but no tears came out. I stumbled out of bed and dragged my body lazily to the bathroom.

It was another day, and I didn't want to look at myself. I'm terrified of making eye contact with the darkness."

Immersing herself in the sentences, she sensed the profound emotions embedded within Kim's words. Each expression resonated deeply, creating a connection that seemed to pierce her heart. The regret settled in as she realized the impact of her past words, recognizing how much she had wounded him. While their paths differed—Kim having lost both parents, unlike Fang—a growing understanding unfolded, fostering a slow mutual recognition and, perhaps, a newfound respect for the way they had become. Both carried reasons for their current states and in that shared understanding, a bridge to empathy and acceptance began to form.

The diary unfolded like a narrative tapestry, capturing her keen interest in a realm previously unexplored. Amidst its pages, she uncovered Kim's aspirations, a desire to be both an artist and a writer that had succumbed to the weight of worldly expectations. In the innocence of childhood, his parents had once nurtured his dreams, yet the journey took an unforeseen turn. As she traced Kim's path through the inked confessions, the stark contrast between his youthful ambitions and the reality he faced became a poignant revelation.

In the midst of her exploration of Kim's secrets, he abruptly entered the room, leaving her no room to conceal the diary. Swiftly concealing it, she feigned busying herself with dusting his study. Kim, wearing a serious expression, approached her with a calculated plan, and as he closed the distance, Fang found herself breathless.

Caught off guard, words failed her as Kim, seemingly satisfied, responded affirmatively to her accusation of shamelessness. Her shock deepened when he questioned her presence in his study. Stammering, she defiantly declared, "I was just dusting."

Kim, aware of her ruse, teased and played along. Catching her red-handed with a lingering trace of dust, he affectionately called her various nicknames, making her blush furiously. Despite her attempt to maintain composure, Fang couldn't escape feeling vulnerable, especially after sharing her own dark story.

Kim produced the hidden diary, prompting a playful chase reminiscent of childhood. "Catch me if you can," he teased, leading to a playful pursuit that ended with Kim falling on top of Fang. In that unexpected moment, their lips briefly met, a fleeting connection that carried a mix of surprise and shared laughter.

"That was my first kiss," Fang declared with a playful pout. Kim, unaware of this revelation, looked at her with affection, a subtle something stirring within him—an unexpected development, perhaps the stirrings of feelings for his unexpected confidante.

As they lingered in the aftermath of the accidental kiss, still entangled on the floor, Laia, the maid, walked in at the most inopportune moment. "Sorry, I came at the wrong time," she exclaimed, misinterpreting the situation entirely and hastily retreating, leaving behind a flustered Fang.

Dusting off her dress and stomping her feet, Fang got up, and Kim, still lying on the floor, chuckled. It was a laughter that seemed to echo with a rarity, as if something fundamental was shifting, perhaps a subtle change after a decade of a more sombre atmosphere.

"Hey... who's going to help me get up?" Kim complained. Fang playfully encouraged him, saying, "Try, try, but don't cry," before leaving with a chuckle. Kim, left alone, stared at the ceiling for a moment. Despite the lingering pain, he attempted to reach for the wheelchair's handle for the first time. After a struggle, he finally managed to sit in the wheelchair, experiencing a sense of happiness. In that moment, he appreciated sharing this small victory with Fang.

Brimming with joy, Kim animatedly issued a directive to the head chef, instructing them to craft his all-time favourite dish. The sudden command sent ripples of surprise through the bustling kitchen, catching everyone off guard, including Fang. Amid her routine of procuring cold walnut milk, she found herself witnessing an unusual spectacle unfold.

The big madame, a prominent figure overseeing the culinary domain, registered the unconventional request with disbelief. "Did I hear right?" she queried, seeking confirmation. Laia, an insightful member of the kitchen staff, promptly affirmed, "Yes, ma'am." The response only deepened the big madame's astonishment, as she grappled with the realization that something remarkable was transpiring in Kim's usual demeanour. The unexpected culinary order signalled a noteworthy shift, leaving an air of anticipation lingering in the kitchen.

Standing at the threshold of the master bedroom, Fang held a tray bearing the chilled essence of walnut milk. A dilemma lingered in the air – to knock or not, a choice weighed down by the memory of the accidental kiss shared with Kim. Embarrassment and a peculiar impact played tag in her mind.

In the midst of this contemplation, a whisper, warm and intimate, graced her ear. "I still have an impact on you," Kim's voice danced seductively. Fang, caught off guard yet gracefully composed, acknowledged Kim's presence, even in his wheelchair-bound state. Breaking the silence, Kim teased, a playful but slightly annoyed tone hanging in the air, "What happened, babe? Did I scare you?" The room became a canvas painted with a mix of tension and banter, a scene both unpredictable and intriguing.

As they stepped into the master bedroom, an awkward tension enveloped both Fang and Kim. Sensing the palpable unease, Fang carefully placed the tray beside the bed on the lamp table. Despite the high tension, she mustered the courage to initiate a conversation. "I have a question," she began tentatively. "Can I ask?" Fang hesitated, and with a concerned tone, Kim encouraged her to proceed, his attention fully engaged.

"Are you a virgin?" Fang asked, the question hanging in the air. Kim, in the midst of sipping his cold walnut milk, had an unexpected reaction, spilling the milk onto the floor. Fang was taken aback by this sudden outburst, surprised at the unexpected turn of events.

A sudden shift in the atmosphere propelled Kim onto the bed, his paralyzed leg not hindering the strength of his muscular arms as he ensnared Fang in an unexpected embrace, his gaze intense. Fear crept into her, triggering past traumas, but she mustered control in the face of the escalating heat.

In a puzzling twist, Kim left Fang bewildered. As if nothing had occurred, he nonchalantly settled on the other side of the bed, feigning normalcy and erasing the unusual episode from their shared reality. The tension lingered heavily, a palpable awareness that something significant had transpired between them.

As they grappled with the aftermath, Kim's thoughts whirred, contemplating the question: "Who does he love the most, Fang or Rebecca?" Despite the complexity of emotions, Kim acknowledged an unfamiliar sense of freedom, something not often felt in his interactions with Rebecca. In the quiet solitude of his thoughts, Kim pondered the possibility that Fang's support in helping him stand might be the reason for this newfound sense of freedom. Little did he realize that the unspoken connection and shared sentiments between them were reciprocated. Unbeknownst to both, a subtle and unknown smile adorned their lips as they surrendered to sleep, a shared understanding blooming between them. The promise of a brighter tomorrow resonated in the stillness of the night, embracing them both in the comfort of unspoken emotions.

" Even in the face of numerous challenges, finding joy in small achievements can bring happiness to a loved one. Those who have mastered the art of controlling their emotions can lead a seemingly imperfect life with grace, discovering contentment and a sense of perfection within the complexities of existence."