Mitch & Tyler ✖ BajanCanadian/MunchingBrotato AU [COMPLETED]

twelve : think & wait

[Think & Wait]

Sat down next to a window in the warm and cozy IHop a few blocks away from his apartment, Tyler dug into a chocolate pancake and sipped his coffee slowly, attempting to calm himself so when he returned home he wouldn't be stubborn like Mitch and actually apologize.

It was a sunny afternoon, the New York sun sinking through the thin glass, onto his steaming meal and pale hands. He sighed, a piece of his light brown hair blowing out in front of him. Swallowing a giggle, Tyler thanked the waitress passing by for refilling his coffee mug.

He would've called Kyle for moral support, but he didn't want to endure an entire conversation of 'I'm going to kill -" or "That huge dick!", which usually ensued when Tyler gossiped about his problematic best friend.

The mild chatter around him increased as the day moved on, and Tyler decided it was best he left a little after noon. His dark Thunder Bay Press hoodie attracting more sun than he wanted, he slipped it over his head while trotting up the stairs to his apartment, typing the sleeves around his waist.

Seeing the living room was empty, the distraught boy tilted his head like a lost puppy, calling out Mitch's name multiple times before panic set in.

He never thought the day would come - where a full bottle of Ambien was emptied halfway, the lesser half of the container in Mitchell Hughes' limp hand, which was laid across the bathroom floor.

"Oh my god!" Tyler crouched next to his roommate, tears threatening to spill as he shook the unconscious boy.

He dug through his pocket, pulling his cell phone out and dialing 911.

"You're gonna be okay, I'm gonna be okay, everything is gonna be okay. Okay, Mitch? Okay. Okay. Okay." Tyler wiped off his wet cheeks, lifting Mitch off of the cold tile flooring and propping him against the door as paramedics rushed in.

Even though he was pushed back so they could take Mitch away, Tyler could still see everything happen in slow motion from his doubled over point of view.

Not bothering to follow them, in a state of shock, Tyler stared at the door slamming shut behind everyone who was shouting at each other commands for when they loaded him in the ambulance.

Everything was silent again.

His mind racing, knees curling up into his chest, widened, glossy eyes darting to each abandoned pill left, lips trembling in fear of losing the only person in this world that got him the most - and didn't deserve anything bad that came to him, including the things he inflicted on himself; Tyler was a wreck. A shaking wreck that felt so alone.