Catch me (when I fall)

SarawaTine Chronicles Part: 4.5

Previously:

Sarawat is hunched over his laptop, his mouth is parted in that way it gets when he's too absorbed in something. The are music sheets in his left hand and a pencil in his other. Most importantly though, he's wearing the same pin-striped dress shirt that Tine had thought of wearing to the bar. Tine is not happy. 

.

.

.

Tine is tired. Tired of cleaning up after the messes his days have become. Tired of dragging his wrung-out self to uni to do a sad attempt at studies. Tired of carrying stress like his second skin and having no one to carry it with him. Tine is tired of being tired. 

On the other hand, his boyfriend is obliviously nonchalant. He's still in some sort of whisper-debate with Earn- Tine guesses- about one chord or another. Tine eases himself into a defensive sort of stance- arms crossed, jaw clenched and foot impatiently tapping. Lets the passive-aggressiveness bleed into the stale air. It takes a minute, then two before Wat finally reads the mood and looks up the screen. He gives Tine one of his patented 'What?' looks. 

Tine hits him with a 'you shut that mister and I'll show you what' look back. It is admittedly a very very long look. It's almost a glare but Tine doesn't really do glares, so mayhaps it's not. It is, however, effective in getting the message across. Wat almost immediately winds up his Very Important music discussion in roughly 30 seconds and normally, this would be enough to soften Tine's heart but no, not today. Once Wat has gone through the entire motion of shutting down the thing and sliding it onto the rumpled bed-sheets, Tine speaks up. 

"You got my message. In the afternoon," he states and waits for the atypical affirmative not. He gets nothing. He can almost feel his tucked-away frustration bubble up and it's the nasty, ugly kind. The kind that makes him want to rip Sarawat's hair out and bang his own against their white walls. In that order. Instead, he clutches his arms closer to his chest and resolutely puts an end to his unconscious foot-tapping. 

Sarawat takes this as a cue to start his explanation-"I was caught up in practice session today and I just glanced at your message, just for a second. It didn't really sink in, you know, and- and even if it did-"

At this point of his nervous ramble, he preemptively cuts himself off but its too late because-

"You forgot," Tine finishes for him.  He's rewarded with a 'Oops... what could I have done' gesture from his boyfriend with some hesitant chuckles to boot. Tine is not amused.

"Then you never checked your phone which is also- coincidentally why you never called to ask why I'm late?" and then Wat makes some sort of pleading noise, the start of a pathetic sorry but Tine's not having it.

"Never mind all that! That's- fine- understandable even, but why? Why on earth would you take my- My freshly pressed dress shirt and use it. For an online call. With Earn!" 

"Tine didn't know, okay? I just- it's been a long week, you know?" 

Boy does Tine know and he lets his stony silence speak for him. 

"Hey, Nuisance, I'm really sorry. Look- I'll even give you one my shirts. You know, the red one that looks really good and it's clean and neat," Wat says as he slowly get up and cautiously approaches Tine. His got his pout and his hands up, his go-to measure when placating Tine. It doesn't quite work.

"So you did not- in fact- ever plan in going out with me," Tine muses aloud. When Sarawat freezes from where he's been inching towards him Tine knows he is as guilty as charged and Tine feels a little bit murderous. He hopes he looks the part too. However, it seems to have a slightly different effect on Sarawat since he simply stares back. Defiantly, like Tine is the one who's not getting the point. 

"Nuisance," this is said not so lovingly, Tine notes, "I have got a lot left to do. Earn is still waiting for me and I've got two more papers to prepare for next week."

"You can spare time for some discussion with Earn and spend the week making smoothies but you can't join me- let alone read my texts properly- for what- two hours?" Tine shoots back. He can almost see Wat's hackles rise.

"The problem here is the shirt, right? So here," and this is punctuated by a pulling it overhead in one swift violent move. It's a wonder how the buttons don't pop off. It's enough for Tine to absolutely lose it and the next few seconds or minutes or hours are spent spitting out their frustrations at each other in incoherent shout and curses. 

It ends in this: Tine and Wat about an arm's length away from each other, flushed red and panting and the air around them like a guitar string pulled too tight, threatening to break. Tine meets Wat's furious gaze head-on and thinks, 'enough is enough'. 

He manages a not so eloquent- "Stay there and rot in your antisocial liar, Saraleo!"

After that, it's a matter of throwing the dress shirt back at Wat's infuriating mid-rant face and cheerleader-style marching down the loft. He also executes a satisfying slam of their front door on his way out. So that's that.