After lunch, with the afternoon free, the three of us sat in the main house to cool off. The air was so muggy there wasn't a ripple of wind. Having lived in the countryside for a long time, this kind of weather was, eight times out of ten, not a good sign.
As dusk fell, my grandfather had already tidied up and returned to his room. Seeing him go in, Khang quietly carried a small stool and sat in front of me, his chin propped on his hands, resting on my lap. He asked:
"What's wrong? I get the feeling you're not in a good mood."
I looked out at the darkening sky, stroking Khang's soft hair.
"I don't know, maybe it's the weather."
Khang shifted his position to look up at me, his beautiful, dark eyes staring intently at me: "I will always be by your side."
His hand rested on mine, his slightly warm, damp palm gently rubbing the rugged knuckles on the back of my hand. I turned my hand over, gripped his tightly, and squeezed back in response:
"Yeah."
