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Every school semester he was there, quiet in the back of the club room while doodling or painting, mind wandering off to other places as he drew. Every time Natee saw him all he could think about was how beautiful the man was, the way his fingers so attentively slid across the paper, he was so quiet but his eyes said a million words to Natee.
Falling for Tan was too easy for Natee to admit, stealing glances across the room at the boy during club days and wondering what beautiful worlds he was creating with his art. He always liked to pretend he didn't see Tan across the room glancing back at him, always too shy to admit that perhaps the boy harbored the same fascination Natee did, simply brushing it off as an accident every time their eyes accidentally met. He vaguely remember one day how he could feel the boys gaze lingering on his back as he faced the other way as his face burned red at the attention, his feelings for the boy were growing stronger by the day but his fear of heartbreak was stronger.
Natee remembers the look of heartbreak on Tans face as he mentioned the french boy and how he regained his artistic inspiration, desperately wanting to be able to take every single word back as soon as he saw the boys face drop, he had never seen Tan look so sad, it was then he realized that Tan definitely felt the same, his regret overwhelming as the boy walked away. Natee had always been looking for distractions, ways to avoid facing the fact that he had feelings for Tan, he never imagined that using the boy named Theo would result in Tan getting his feelings hurt, that night Natee stayed late in the art room, guilt plaguing his stomach as he tried to think of a way out of his current dilemma.
It was a few weeks later and Natee was progressively growing more mad at himself, he had thought of scenarios in his head over and over, trying to desperately find a way to make the boy realize he liked him and not Theo, all to no avail as every week Tan would show up to the art room looking even more mentally exhausted as Natee hopelessly watched what his own stupidity was doing to him, the pretty boy who's eyes used to sparkle when looking at Natee, how his eyes just looked sad and tired and Natee would do anything to bring that beautiful sparkle back, to make the boy know how much Natee wanted him.
Heartbreak had never been something that had crossed Natees mind, so the day Tan grabbed his things and left the art room Natee simply stared in shock, feeling a gaping hole in his chest at the boys absence, finally realizing his feelings for the boy went far beyond simple pining, for the first time Natee wills himself, alone in the art room, to admit that he was in love with Tan. Allows himself to realize the boy felt the same and he just shattered his heart under a stupid ruse that he liked somebody else. Natee fucked up and he finally realized it only after the boy he adored so much left him, walked out with a pained expression on his face.
Seeing Tan enter the art room sent Natee into a frenzy, he knew this was his last and only chance to do something, knowing if he didn't speak up now Tan would probably never come back, probably in an attempt to save his own heart which had so easily been broken. That day felt like magic to Natee, giving Tan the drawing of his face and the jumbled confession that Natee needed Tan, felt like he couldn't breath without the boy by his side, it was something you would see in a fairlytale most would say.
Dating Tan felt all too wonderful to be real, seeing the boys sweet smile in the artroom as they giggled and held hands under the table, smearing paint on each other's faces and laughing about it like nothing in the world mattered, sharing shy kisses in bathroom stalls and having dates in the park where they would paint the landscape and just stare at each other in awe.
It felt all too much like a dream to Natee.
Losing Tan was like having Natees heart ripped out of his own chest, the phone call that night was something Natee would never forget, Tans parents sobbing over the phone as they told Natee that they found Tan in his bed dead, an overdose they said, Natee could never process how such a happy looking boy could be dealing with such inner turmoil, thinking back to all the tired looks Tan gave in the art room as his strong facade slowly wore down.
As he sits by the boys grave, flowers in hand, he can't help but wonder for the future they could have built if Tan had spoken up, said he was struggling. He lays down his final painting of the boy, giving the grave a small smile as he wobbles away, mind full of the pretty boy he once got to love.