One Fateful Night (ON GOING)

Chapter 10

Aside from their talk before the wedding on that night by the pool, in almost two weeks of living together, Mew realizes that how tight lipped Gulf is in terms of voicing out his inner thoughts and feelings.

Mew is almost countered with ‘I’m fine’, ‘I’m okay’, ‘All good’ and ‘Nothing’s wrong’ every time—he can almost predict what the younger will say—and sometimes it honestly annoys him especially in obvious times when the younger is looking not fine as clear as crystal.

Mew can accept how Gulf seems to be distant at him, but it won’t kill the younger to be a little honest and lean on him a little. Nevertheless, instead of confronting Gulf about his issue, Mew chose to understand the younger and give him time to adjust—something he never knew he will regret later on.

It is the beginning of the week and as usual, Mew prepared their breakfast waiting for Gulf to come down. He has been living alone for years now and cooking is something his maae gave him as a required parting gift.

The older can still vividly recall how his mother didn’t allow him to live on his own without learning how to cook. Therefore, as college young man, who was excited for freedom, Mew was forced to conquer the kitchen. His mother is after all, the law in their house.

Mew checks his watch once again. He has waited for Gulf for five more minutes already. Usually, the other guy is out by now and joining him breakfast—something like an unseen routine they found themselves following.

Mew decides to wait for another few minutes and scroll his emails. He is quite busy because his father has been preparing him to take over the company very soon; and although he has been working there for years now and has expertise and experience, he still can’t help but feel the pressure which makes him a little busier than usual for the past months.

When Gulf did not appear for a minute more, Mew finally gives up waiting. He climbs the stairs and immediately goes to Gulf’s room. He knocks for a couple times and hearing no response, he turns the knob. Thankful that the door isn’t locked, he quickly gets in.

The first thing he looks at is Gulf’s bed, and seeing the sign of a life sleeping on it, he wonders where the occupant of the room is. He doesn’t see a shadow on the balcony then he darts his eyes on the bathroom.

“Gulf?”

When Mew is met with silence, not even a gush of water after knocking—if in case the younger is showering—he quickly opens the door.

Only for his blood to drain on his face.

Mew is seeing Gulf, on his sweatshirt and sweat pants, passed out on the bathroom floor.

Mew stands frozen for a second before he rushes to the younger’s side and touches Gulf’s face and patting on it lightly. Scared is an understatement for what’s he’s feeling—he is petrified. He can taste lead in his mouth. He is literally panting as he tries to wake the younger up. The only sign that Gulf is alive is the slow rise and fall of his chest which has taken a whole minute for Mew to notice.

Carefully, Mew slips his arm behind Gulf’s thighs and the other arm to support Gulf’s upper body as fast as possible. He is even surprised with the younger’s weight that he feels like crying—he is so light. Fuck.

Everything seems to blur from Mew’s perspective. Nothing else matters but the figure he is carrying. He seems to fly from Gulf’s room to the elevator. And within seconds on the lift, Mew feels like he is waiting for years for the lift to reach the basement area. He has been cussing in his head. This is his fault. He can’t lose Gulf. He can’t. His child.