Make It Right

CHAPTER 10

I'm so sorry for the late update as I've been in a poor state of health for the past week. It's a miracle really, I get to write this chapter at all. Enjoy, and sorry once again! 😅

Go back, son.

Singto woke up with a jolt.

He felt himself took a deep breath as he stared blankly at the white ceiling, the fan spun quietly above him. The soft chirping of the birds brought his gaze outside through the window next to his bed and saw that the first light of the sun already crept up over the horizon, turning the sky pale yellow. He breathed out a shallow breath.

He didn't remember going back to his apartment, nor when did he fell asleep.

He stretched on the bed and groaned softly with how good his body felt, something he hadn't felt for a long time since Krist's death. The thought made him halt mid-stretch.

Krist's death.

He got up quickly from where he lay on the bed with the sudden feeling of remorse. He shouldn't have felt good. He shouldn't have had a good sleep and felt good about it. He shouldn't when all he should have felt was regret. With every breath he took, every sleep he had, every morning that he woke up into; it should have all be filled with regret.

Singto clutched at his chest, feeling the same pain swarmed into it that made him gasped for breath and a sob escaped him with his effort to get air into his lungs. He started to feel panic rising in his heart before he leaped on the bed to get to the bedside table and roughly pulled open the first drawer.

He frowned when he didn't see what he was looking for.

He closed the drawer and pulled the second one, and then the last one and still, his face was still marred with confusion as he didn't found his pills in any of them. He didn't remember taking it out and placed it elsewhere. Nonetheless, he was too deep in his thought about the whereabouts of his medication that he hadn't realize the pain in his chest already subsided into a dull ache, and that the panic he felt just a moment before was forgotten. He flattened his palm on his chest and breathe out slowly, somehow marvelled with the way his body calmed itself. He had never be able to do it before without the help of his medication.

It was as if he wasn't sick at all.

The sound of the room next door being opened and closed brought him out of his reverie, and his head snapped to his side so fast that the whole room spun around him but it was the last thing he cared about at the moment. Instead, he focused on the sound of the light footsteps passing through in front of his room.

It can't be.

His mind conjured up a wild guess of his father having spent a night in the guest room but his heart said otherwise. Otherwise, that is impossible. It couldn't be. It just...couldn't be. But the hope already bubbled up in his heart it was suffocating, suffocating to the point he just wanted to dash outside and see it for himself. But he has had his hope crushed for so many times before that he just sat there on the bedside unmoving, his heart hammering to the point it deafened his ears.

And he waited.

He waited for the radio to be turned on – it was turned on and the soft piece of music echoed through the walls of his apartment. He felt his fingers clenched onto the sheet beneath him and he stayed still, waiting. Waiting for –

It took all his might not to scream out the name when he heard the voice of someone humming along to the melody in a quiet voice.

"Krist?" he called out the name, his voice sounded hoarse and shaky to his own ears and yet it was filled with so much hope when the humming suddenly stopped and the radio went dead. Singto almost believed he was once again cheated by his own mind playing tricks on him and he called out the name again, desperately as tears already made way down his cheeks.