Fated to be yours

Chapter 9

Next morning,

Gulf keeps the coffee mug at the table and glances at the entrance of the dining room. Usually, every day by now he is on his way to University but today he lingered back. He wants to see if Mew is okay or if he needs any help but Mew is still isn't down for breakfast.

"Shall I go check?" He bites his lip in hesitation for a moment but then makes his way upstairs. As he nears the bedroom he can't help but think about the night before. The previous night's events still feel surreal to him. For a moment after waking up, his disoriented sleepy self had even thought that he had been dreaming, but looking back at the bed and Mew's injured hand made him realise that it indeed had happened.

Mew had allowed him to help him! Talked to him! For once his eyes didn't show anger or annoyance for him. He even let him dry his hair!

His fingers tingle at the memory of Mew' soft, silky hair. He had tried to help as much as he could without touching him but his heart had almost leapt out of his chest when the man had grabbed his hand. He thought he had somehow annoyed him and the man would yell at him or worse, throw him out of the room. But to his bewilderment, he had taken his hand to his hair.

And then when he was almost about to fall asleep, he had heard the man's soft voice, almost hesitant as if he was afraid to wake him up. Taken aback, it had taken a moment for him to reply back.

Then their conversation! While he doesn't want Mew to feel guilty for his behaviour in the earlier days, it still feels good not to be blamed for someone else's mistake. "It wasn't your fault" he can still hear those words in his mind.

Reaching the bedroom, he knocks on the door. When he doesn't hear any reply back, he peeks inside to see the room empty, which means Mew is still in the bathroom. The bed as usual is unmade so he walks inside to tidy it but halts in his spot when he hears a muffled 'Fuck it!' coming from the closet room. His nose scrunches in distaste. Tch! Why does Mew always have to curse so much?!

"I am done with this shit!" again a growl follows and he blinks at the closed closet room. His eyebrows crease in worry and he immediately knocks on the door, "Mr Suppasit, are you alright?"

In reply, he hears some rustle and then a frustrated but surprised, "What are you still doing here? Don't you have classes?"

"I came to.." 'check on you' is the truth but Gulf goes with a safer one, ".. take my notes. But, what happened? Are you okay in there?"

A moment later the closet door slides open and there standing is Mew in his office clothes, minus the coat and his tie loosely hanging around his neck, untied. His hair is disheveled and to no one's surprise the man is frowning.

"I can't seem to tie this fucking tie with only one hand!" Mew glowers at his tie as if the whole fault is of that poor piece of clothing.

"Do you want me to help?" he offers without thinking. Mew's eyes snap up to him and Gulf can't help but shift on his feet at his scrutinizing gaze.

After a thoughtful consideration for a moment, the man asks, "Won't you get late?"

Gulf takes that a 'yes' and assures him quickly, "I still have time". He had anyway planned to sit in the library to review his assignment since he doesn't have any lectures until 12pm for the day.

"You will have to help me with my hair first" with that Mew turns around to go back inside.

"Oh. Okay, and of course you are welcome!" Gulf shakes his head, amused and follows him inside.

Drying and setting Mew's hair was no hassle as the man sat on the dressing chair patiently with his eyes closed, letting him do his work on his hair. But when it's time for the tie, Gulf blinks at the tie Mew hands him and then back at him, baffled "Mr Suppasit, were you wrestling with it or something? It's totally creased, you need another one" he points out.