Chapter 9 " I’ll Carry Your Hate"

The moment I stepped into my room, I peeled off my clothes and headed straight for the shower. Cold water ran down my back like rain trying to wash away the heaviness clinging to my chest. I stood there for a while, letting it numb the ache I couldn't name—trying to forget the slap, the look in that girl's eyes, and most of all… the question Myo Kaung had asked me.

After drying off and changing into a soft cotton shirt, I sat cross-legged on my bed, hair still damp, staring blankly at the corner of my room. My mind was still tangled in Myo's voice:

"Do you only see Paing as just a friend?"

The door creaked open without a knock. I didn't need to look. I already knew who it was.

Paing Say Yan.

He walked in like he owned the place—as always—and without asking, threw himself onto the bed behind me, arms sprawled, head landing right across my back like I was a pillow.

"Ahh, so tired," he groaned.

I sighed, brushing water droplets from my hair.

"Why are you here again? You didn't even go home last night. Your mom's going to worry."

"Nah. There's no one at home. Both of them are away. They won't even notice if I vanish."

"You should still let her know—"

"I already texted her," he interrupted, then flipped over lazily. "Told her I'm crashing here."

I rolled my eyes. "Okay…"

He looked up at me with his usual fake-puppy look. "How's my face? Still handsome even after being assaulted?"

I hesitated before reaching out and gently touching his cheek where the slap had landed earlier that afternoon. His skin was still slightly red—warm to the touch. "Still hurt?"

"Mmm, too much. Please take care of me, my babe." He grabbed both of my wrists and tugged them down to his chest dramatically, his head resting in my lap now like he was royalty.

"Stop overreacting," I muttered, though I didn't push him away. "What about your girlfriend? Are you two… okay now?"

"Nah. We broke up. No—I broke up with her."

I blinked. "What? Why? She seemed like she really liked you."

"I don't care," he replied with a casual shrug. "She tried to hurt what's mine. That's unforgivable. Don't worry—I can find a new one anytime."

I shifted uneasily. "But… breaking up with her because of me? That doesn't feel right. I'm the one who silenced your phone last night because you were sleeping. If I explain to her—"

"You don't need to," he cut in sharply. "I've been avoiding her for a while. She kept trying to control me. Told me to stop hanging out with you. To spend more time with her. That was enough for me."

"…Control you?" I asked, voice quieter now.

"Yeah. You. Us. She didn't like how much time I spent with you. Wanted me to stop. So I ended it."

I stared down at him, at the way his fingers still clung to mine.

"I think we should reconsider how we spend time together," I said slowly.

Paing's eyes snapped open. "What kind of nonsense are you talking, Ngwe?"

"It's just… no one breaks up with their girlfriend because of a friend, Paing."

"We're not just friends," he said, matter-of-factly. "We're more than that."

My heart stopped.

"…Then what are we?"

He smiled up at me like a boy telling a bedtime story. "We're two souls that belong to each other. Like soulmates. Nothing can come between us."

"…Stop talking and lie down. I'm sleepy."

Without waiting, he pulled me down onto the bed, curling his body into mine like a habit too old to break. His head rested against my chest, his arms wrapping around my waist. He let out a sigh—long, content, familiar.

And it was familiar.

This wasn't strange to me at all. Paing Say Yan had been sleeping over at my place since middle school. Once or twice a week, always with some dramatic reason about how lonely he was or how cold his house felt. Eventually, I even convinced my mom to buy a big bed—"for sleepovers," I'd said. But we both knew who it was really for.

I gently cradled his head with one arm, my fingers brushing softly against his hair. His breathing grew slower, deeper. The curve of his body fit against mine like a puzzle piece worn smooth over the years.

"Paing…" I murmured, staring at the ceiling. "What if one day… what if something happens and we grow apart? What if we become strangers?"

He didn't even open his eyes. His voice was quiet but fierce. "I won't allow that. If anything dares to come between us, I'll destroy it. Even if I have to become the devil. You're mine. My babe."

My heart squeezed painfully. He meant every word.

Every intense, possessive, protective word.

But even as he fell asleep, his breath soft against my chest, I lay there wide awake.

Because I knew something he didn't.

What I want from you, Paing Say Yan… isn't friendship. And it isn't soulmates. It's love—the kind you don't seem to see me with.

And that hurt more than I could say.

Present Time...

The wheels of Ngwe Nay Kha's suitcase rolled softly across the polished airport floor as he stepped into Yangon International Airport. The cool air-conditioning hit his face, but it wasn't enough to settle the nervous flutter in his chest.

It had been years since he stood in this place—the last time, it was under completely different circumstances. Back then, he was barely holding himself together, eyes swollen from silent tears and heart clenched so tightly it hurt to breathe. That day, he boarded a flight not with excitement, but with grief, betrayal, and the desperate urge to run away from everything—especially from him.

He remembered walking through the gates with trembling hands, trying to look brave, trying to convince himself that leaving was the only way to survive the pain Paing Say Yan had caused. His lungs were full of fear, but his heart was heavier with heartbreak.

But today… today was different.

This time, he wasn't running. He wasn't hurting. He wasn't even scared.

"I'm just visiting a friend," he murmured to himself with a small smile. "Just a little trip to Bangkok."

His hands gripped the suitcase handle tighter, but not with tension—this time, it was excitement. He wore a light gray windbreaker over a black hoodie, black pants, and silver rings glinting under the airport lights. The black backpack slung over one shoulder bounced with every step, and the crisp white Apple bag tied to his luggage added an almost movie-scene polish.

His mom had hugged him this morning with a warm smile and told him to enjoy his trip. It had been years since he traveled for fun. The last trip he took was to Kalay—a beautiful, chilly town tucked in the arms of northern Myanmar. And back then, he wasn't alone.

Of course, it was with Paing Say Yan.

They'd laughed together in that little town, shared a bed, drank steaming coffee by misty windows, and fought over blanket space. Those memories were too vivid, but he tucked them away in a quiet corner of his chest as he reached the check-in counter.

"Hello," he greeted the staff politely, handing over his passport and printed ticket.

The staff typed into the system and frowned. Then paused.

Then frowned again.

"I'm sorry," she said, brows knitting together, "but there seems to be an issue. Your passport is flagged."

Ngwe blinked. "Flagged?"

"Yes," she replied with growing discomfort. "It's on a restricted list. I'll need to get a supervisor."

The supervisor came. More typing. More hushed whispers. Then finally, the answer:

"You're on a blacklist. You're not allowed to leave the country."

The words didn't make sense at first. Ngwe stood there, stunned, like the floor had just fallen from beneath his feet.

"What do you mean? I don't have any criminal record. My passport's valid. Why would I be blacklisted?"

"I'm sorry, sir," the man replied, unable to meet his eyes. "It's a government notice. We don't have access to the reason."

"But… I already told my friend I'm coming. I made plans. There must be a mistake." His voice was cracking now, rising from disbelief to frustration. "Isn't there anything you can do?"

"We wish we could. But it's out of our hands."

Ngwe stood there frozen, passport still in his hand, the boarding pass crumpling slightly in his grip. People moved around him—travelers checking in, children laughing, lovers hugging goodbye—but for him, everything slowed down. The happiness he felt just moments ago, the lightness in his chest, all twisted into confusion and helplessness.

He turned slowly, walking back to the bench where he had waited before. His suitcase followed behind him, now heavier than ever.

"What the hell is this…" he whispered to himself.

He opened his phone, saw Myo Kaung's last message: "Can't wait to see you, bro!! I'll pick you up at the airport!"

Ngwe stared at the screen for a long time.

Then lowered his head into his hands.

Ngwe Nay Kha sat on the cold bench of the airport, motionless, numb, with his passport clutched tightly in his hand. The buzz of people came and went, but for him, the world felt distant—blurred, like he was trapped behind glass.

He didn't know how long he'd been sitting there.

Until a familiar scent brushed against his senses—clean cedarwood and something expensive and warm. A scent that wrapped around his skin like a memory he wished he could forget.

Then came a voice—low, smooth, and far too close.

"Where are you planning to go?"

Ngwe's body stiffened.

He turned his head slowly and met eyes with Paing Say Yan, standing just inches away, his face wearing that same calm amusement he always wore when he was in control. Their faces were so close, Ngwe could feel the breath between them.

The same man who broke him was now standing in front of him—again.

"You—what the hell are you doing here?" Ngwe demanded, rising from the bench. "How did you know I was at the airport?"

Paing Say Yan's smirk widened, maddeningly calm. "Guess."

The truth hit Ngwe like ice water. His voice trembled with disbelief. "No… No way. Don't tell me—you're the reason my passport's blacklisted?"

His hand shot up and grabbed the collar of Paing's shirt.

"Relax," Paing said, reaching to gently remove Ngwe's hand from his chest. "Calm down—"

"Don't touch me!" Ngwe slapped his hand away. "Tell me that's not because of you. I'm warning you—tell me right now!"

Paing tilted his head, eyes sharp with unapologetic boldness. "I won't lie to you. Do you really want the answer?"

The silence between them cracked, loud and dangerous.

Ngwe stepped back, fury swelling in his chest. "Paing Say Yan, how could you—how dare you? Are you that crazy?! Did you completely lose your mind?!"

"Yes," Paing said without blinking. "I lost it four years ago when you walked away. I told you, didn't I? You're not allowed to leave me again....… I closed the door before you could disappear."

"You unbelievable—" Ngwe's voice broke as his palm flew across Paing's cheek, a sharp crack echoing in the air.

"I don't even know what to say to you anymore," he whispered. "This is too much, even for you."

But Paing didn't flinch.

"I'll do anything, everything, to keep you by my side," he said calmly. "Even if it means you'll hate me for the rest of your life. I don't care."

Before Ngwe could react, Paing seized his wrist and pulled him toward the parking lot.

"Let go of me! Where are you taking me?! Paing Say Yan!"

But Paing's grip was firm, unshakable, and his strength overpowered Ngwe's resistance.

They reached the black car parked near the gate. Paing opened the door and pushed him inside gently but with force. He slammed the door shut, got in from the other side, and started the engine in one smooth motion.

Ngwe sat beside him, fuming, silent. His arms crossed, jaw clenched.

For a while, neither of them spoke. The hum of the car engine filled the space. Then, Ngwe noticed the road.

"This isn't the way to my house."

"I know," Paing replied.

Ngwe turned sharply. "Where the hell are you driving to?! I asked you a question, Paing!"

Paing's hands gripped the steering wheel tighter. "Kalaw."

"What?!"

"You love that place. You said it yourself last time—how peaceful it is, how you want to go back someday. You're packed. We're going."

"I'm not going anywhere with you," Ngwe snapped. "Turn around. Right now."

"No."

"If you don't stop this car right now, I swear I'll hate you more than I already do."

Paing's eyes flicked to him briefly, dark and unwavering.

"I already carry your hate every day. What's a little more?"

"You're so unbelievably selfish," Ngwe whispered.

"Yes," Paing said softly. "But only when it comes to you."

Ngwe turned away from him, leaning his head against the window. He didn't speak again. He didn't even want to scream anymore.

No matter how much I try to talk to Paing, it's like speaking to a wall. My words never reach him. He just does whatever he wants, like the world only turns for him. And the worst part? He decides everything for me—like my life isn't mine to live, but his to control.

The radio crackled to life in the background.

"So why don't we go… somewhere only we know…"

The lyrics drifted through the silence, echoing in the cabin like a cruel lullaby.

Ngwe closed his eyes. He didn't know what this was anymore.