#64

Tennessee stared at the inscrutable Amber. Something else hurt more than the wounds.

“Does it hurt?” Amber asked, but it was Amber whose lips were torn. They were bloodied from constant biting.

“No. It doesn’t.”

After finishing the medicine, Amber’s fingertips moved toward the prominent scars. There wasn’t a single spot on Tennessee’s arms, back, or chest that wasn’t covered in scars. Touching each mark of the past one by one, Amber left a kiss upon them.

“Did it hurt?”

“No.”

A body in a state of extreme tension constricts its blood vessels to minimize blood loss. Thanks to the adrenaline coursing through the body, pain is not felt. That was why Tennessee believed his body was fine.

One day, looking back, he found large scars. It seemed he had faced death several times. Most of them were things he discovered only after living without even knowing they were etched into his body.

Looking at Tennessee’s arm, glistening with ointment, Amber grabbed his wrist. Amber’s hot lips slowly descended and touched the back of his hand. A faint electric current sparked.

“And you?”

“I’m fine.”

He had lied last time, but this time Amber told the truth. At least he had no physical injuries, so it was partially true. However, his insides were a mess.

Throughout the seizure, Tennessee had curled up. He had stayed curled, fists clenched tight, building a rigid defensive wall as if on guard, refusing to lift his body. Amber had to watch all of that. The helplessness of being unable to do anything was devastating.

At first, he had stroked his back. He intended to soothe him as he had before, but Tennessee’s reaction was more violent than the day of his first seizure. He didn’t respond to Amber’s words. In the past, if he kept talking and waited, there would be a faint response, and he would give a few answers even in a haze.

“Our relationship has changed, so why do you keep hurting?”

“I wonder.”

As Tennessee replied nonchalantly, Amber’s palm brushed over every single scar on his body.

Because he had put so much strength into his previously injured legs and arms, the pain had intensified. Noticing the furrow in Tennessee’s brow, Amber brought some painkillers.

“Do you remember anything?”

Amber lightly rested his forehead against the back of Tennessee, who was perched on the edge of the bed. He pressed his hot forehead against his back, feeling his body heat. Despite not being able to move properly for several months, Tennessee’s back was firm and broad.

How wonderful it would be if he could cherish and embrace such a man. He wanted to put him in a cozy nest and let him see only good things. But Tennessee was not a helpless bird in need of someone. Amber suppressed his self-deprecating thoughts.

“Nothing. My head is foggy.”

It was a fragment of a nightmare that had spiked like an icicle. What else should he say? Tennessee searched his memories. In the world he had experienced, people sometimes became mere lumps of meat rather than humans.

“I saw a lot when I wandered without a home as a kid, or when I was in the Middle East. Rape and murder were commonplace. Still, I thought I was different from those people. But I was mistaken. There was a moment I realized that. ……The feeling in my memory is similar to that realization.”

A desperate realization. One day, looking back, he saw the footprints left along his own history. He thought they were footprints, but upon closer inspection, they were bloodstains. Only then did the reality of his sins sink in. The realization that he had unconsciously tried to separate himself from others, and the cruel verdict on that arrogance.

He hadn’t slept for days. It was a time when he agonized over his disillusionment with himself and his future direction. Bullets tearing through the air. Bombings slicing the sky like fireworks. ……He, too, was human.

“Tennessee.”

Because he was hugging his back, Amber couldn’t see Tennessee’s eyes clearly.

Amber pulled him deep into his embrace. Even while touching like this, there were times he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was disconnected from him.

“Everything will be alright.”

“I suppose so.”

Everything will be alright. It was a common phrase people used every other day.

Everything will be alright.

Amber himself didn’t know if he was saying it to the suffering Tennessee, or to himself.

His heart ached. At the same time, the part of his mind accustomed to tragedy sneered and told Amber:

What did I tell you? Do you think the world is that perfect? Do you think something like ideal happiness actually exists?

No.

Amber shook his head violently. He would overcome it.

* * *

Despite Amber’s comfort and Tennessee’s wishes, the seizures actually grew worse. The intensity and duration only continued to deteriorate.

One night, after a seizure so severe that he hadn’t slept a wink, Amber hugged Tennessee.

It was strange; the world should have been soaked in a pink atmosphere, and they should have awakened in a new world.

“Don’t cry.”

“I’m not crying.”

Amber said as he held him. Amber knew he couldn’t provide any real help to his man. Tennessee’s problem wasn’t something that could be solved just because he stepped in. Therefore, he didn’t want to be a psychological burden to someone who was already struggling so much.

Whenever a seizure occurred, Amber tried his best to remain composed. He wanted to be the person who supported him silently from behind, rather than someone who panicked when he was in pain.

“……Is it because of me?”

As far as Amber remembered, Tennessee only had insomnia; he had no such abnormal symptoms. Tennessee had also said something similar. Had he said it never happened before?

“If you’re going to say stupid things, go to sleep.”

“We’re going to the hospital first.”

Blood was still leaking from Tennessee’s arm, which hadn’t stopped bleeding. It looked like it needed stitches. Even though Amber said it wasn’t life-threatening and he still needed treatment, Tennessee shook his head.

Amber pressed his lips against his stubborn arm. The wounds that had barely begun to heal with medicine were all splitting open, and blood was seeping through. Fearing his lover would be hurt, Amber couldn’t even bring his lips down near the wounds, barely pressing his warm lips onto the skin, avoiding the injuries.

“No need to go.”

“Please…….”

Before he could finish the sentence, Amber bit his lip.

Something was wrong.

After the kiss with Tennessee, Amber enjoyed the sweetness of utopia by day and spent his nights in hell. The most perfect and ideal days and the terrible, nightmare-filled nights repeated. On days when Tennessee didn’t have a seizure, Amber would wake up suddenly in the early morning and only feel at peace once he confirmed that Tennessee wasn’t in pain. He would feel relieved for a moment, fall into a light sleep, and then wake up again, repeating the cycle.

Why do you say you’re fine? I am soaking in the blood you shed. There is no way you are fine.

Watching the person he loved suffer left an indelible scar and a great shock on Amber as well.

It had only been two months since he and Tennessee became lovers; in that time, there had been five seizures, and the interval between one nightmare and the next was gradually shortening. And in step with that.

Tick, tick—

Amber felt as if he could hear the timer of a time bomb rapidly counting down.

Time flowed, and the seizures grew more violent. Watching from the side, Amber’s blood ran dry from the desire to ask nothing of Tennessee. So, he chose to keep his mouth shut. No matter what happened, he decided he would never be in a position where he comforted himself while his suffering lover became the one to console him.

Frustration ate away at Amber.

It was four in the morning. Unable to sleep at all, Amber had come out into the living room. He sat on the sofa and turned on the TV. He muted the sound as much as possible and simply watched the black automatic subtitles flow across the screen. The way the mouths moved in the dead silence felt exactly like himself. Screaming, but the cry is not heard; struggling to be saved, but no lifeline descends.

His chest felt tight. Who was he supposed to talk to? His adoptive parents? Tennessee, who was suffering the most?

“Amber.”

“Yes, Tennessee.”

Startled, Amber stood up. Tennessee had come out into the living room.

“What are you doing here?”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“……Did I wake you up again?”

He was talking about the seizures. Besides the seizures, Tennessee also tended to show mild symptoms of sleep terrors.

Shaking his head and spreading his arms, Amber pulled him into a full embrace.

Haa.

Only after holding him in his arms did Amber realize how cold his own body had become, and he let out a trembling breath of relief.

He’s alive. He’s barely gasping, but he’s breathing. That fact is what matters. He will overcome this. Just as he had navigated through the maze of tragedies in his childhood.

Only when he confirmed Tennessee’s affection did Amber finally feel reality. Everything else had been a nightmare.

Unfortunately, however, they could not always be together. Even during the times they spent together, Amber often faced a surging impulse during the moments they weren’t. It was the same whenever Tennessee left the house for rehabilitation training.

Since Tennessee was not a man of many words, the interior of the house was always quiet whether he was there or not. But the silence Amber felt when he was gone was more vicious. A feeling of floating alone, as if his ears were plugged and his senses were cut off.

In that silence, Amber picked up the knife.