[Two Weeks Later - Shopping District]
Rain and Sky were shopping for furniture for Rain's new apartment—his first place completely his own, though he still spent most nights with Prapai.
"What about this couch?" Sky asked, pointing.
"Too big. I want cozy, not overwhelming—"
Rain stopped mid-sentence, his blood running cold.
Across the store, talking to a salesperson, was someone who looked exactly like Phayu.
Same height. Same build. Same way of standing.
Rain's breathing accelerated. His vision tunneled. He couldn't move, couldn't think, couldn't—
"Rain? Rain!" Sky's voice sounded far away.
The man turned, and Rain saw it wasn't Phayu. Different face, different eyes.
But the panic attack was already in full force.
Rain collapsed, hyperventilating, his chest tight. Sky knelt beside him, grounding techniques forgotten in Rain's terror.
"Not him," Sky kept saying. "It's not him, Rain. He's in prison. You're safe."
But Rain's body didn't believe it. His body remembered terror, remembered captivity, remembered—
Prapai's voice suddenly: "Rain, I'm here. Listen to my voice. You're safe. I'm with you."
Prapai had arrived—Sky must have called him. His presence gradually penetrated Rain's panic.
"Breathe with me," Prapai instructed calmly. "In for four, hold for four, out for four."
Slowly, painfully, Rain's breathing regulated. The panic receded, leaving him exhausted and ashamed.
"I'm sorry," Rain whispered.
"Don't apologize," Prapai said firmly. "Trauma responses aren't your fault."
"But I was doing so well. Graduated, working, happy. And one person who looked like him—"
"Setbacks are part of healing," Sky reminded him. "Dr. Anong said this might happen."
Rain nodded, but the shame lingered. He'd thought he was past this.
[Later - Therapy Session]
"I had a panic attack in public," Rain told Dr. Anong. "Because of someone who looked like Phayu."
"How did you feel afterward?"
"Ashamed. Weak. Like I'm not really healing."
"Rain, healing isn't linear. You'll have good days and bad days. That doesn't mean you're not progressing."
"But when will it stop? When will I see someone and not panic?"
"Gradually. The attacks will become less frequent, less intense. But they may never completely disappear. That's the reality of trauma."
Rain felt despair creeping in. "So I'll never be normal?"
"You'll be healed, which is different from being unchanged. Rain, trauma changes us. But it doesn't have to define us."
Rain left the session feeling slightly better but still shaken.
That night, in Prapai's arms, he confessed his fears.
"What if I'm always like this? What if you get tired of dealing with my breakdowns?"
"Rain, look at me." Prapai's eyes were fierce. "I'm not going anywhere. Bad days, good days, panic attacks, nightmares—I'm here for all of it. That's what loving someone means."
"But you deserve someone less damaged—"
"I deserve you. Exactly as you are." Prapai kissed his forehead. "Stop trying to push me away. I'm staying."
Rain cried into Prapai's shoulder, letting himself be held, letting himself be loved despite the brokenness.
Maybe he'd never be "normal."
But maybe, with Prapai, he didn't need to be.