Catch me (when I fall)

SarawaTine Chronicles Part: 4.7.5

Tine doesn't know how he gets to Fong's apartment. It's all quite literally a blur because he's the type who cries when emotions are on the high- whether it be sadness or anger or happiness. It's even earned him the loathsome nickname "crybaby" from Ohm and Phuk and so, he's always been a little bitter about particular trait of his. Until he met Wat of course; Wat always takes to soft empathetic pats and non-judgmental hugs. Right now though, that's obviously not an option so its straight to the next best person in his vicinity- Fong. 

Fong- as always- listens. He settles Tine down on his single bed before he pours out a glass of water and pulls out a whole box of tissues. Then, with practiced ease he hands them over before seating himself in the opposite chair. It's almost become a ritual between them but its the familiarity of it that really what calms Tine down. 

After a well-needed gulp of water and some satisfactory swipes of his nose-turned-facet had Tine feeling a little more grounded, a little more composed. 

"So?" Fong gently probs and Tine hate-loves how understanding Fong is. It means that he knows that Tine knows and it also means that, unlike Tine, he's going to address the elephant in the room. 

"I know," Tine admits reluctantly, "I should go back and talk. It's just- come on man- don't give me that look- I'm just exhausted 'kay?"

Fong's patented Look of Disapproval immediately softens and Tine is seriously glad because it seems as though his body has been waiting for his mouth's permission to cave. The moment the last words have been uttered, there's a faint pulsing in his head and a soreness in his eyes that follow the heels of a long crying session. 

Honestly... Tine's ready to flop down on any available surface. When Fong makes no further comment, that's exactly what he does. Distantly, he hears the other half of their gang enter and is immensely grateful when Fong turns them right back out. There's the jingle of a key ring and the solid thump of his sneakers. After a minute or two, the air above the bed shifts and Tine pauses in his attempts of self-suffocation by a pillow when Fong speaks.

"Stay for a while and sort things out bro. Don't worry about the club or the boys, I'll deal with them. You can have something from the mini if you want, okay?"

"m'kay."

There's the sound of shuffling over hardwood and Tine really things Fong has left but then he's saying-" Oh and Tine? Trust me when I say everything will be fine. You just have to talk it out and you're a lawyer so I'd expect you to be pro at that."

Tine can't help the small smile. Or the question that slips out- "You think so?"

"Tine, I know so. I know so because you love each other."

Before Tine can launch himself or a pillow- whichever is more convenient- at Fong for this mortifying statement, there's a smug click of the front door closing. Has Tine ever mentioned how he hate-loves how understanding Fong can be? Oh, because he does. This is is last thought before he succumbs to the exhaustion that follows every emotional outburst of his. Tine closes his eyes and reflects.

The next time Tine returns into the grasp of consciousness, something feels a little off. The room is still dark and empty which is not unexpected because his nap must have extended well into the late evening and yet- there's the sensation of something being very very wrong. When Tine moves to get up, that something proves to be the pull in his neck that immediately makes itself known. He digs for his phone which has mysteriously disappeared underneath the wrinkled bed- sheets and it takes a few attempts before his hand meets its cold edges. 

The screen lights up and a digital 1:00 P.M. blinks at him. Tine blinks back at it for a full five seconds before the P.M. registers and then he's thinking- 'Wait... what?' 

Somehow it feels like the world around him shakes at this admission before he realises that it's just Fong's front door slamming open and a few facts become glaringly obvious...

1. It's not Fong who has opened the door. Actually, it is Fong but not just Fong, because lo and behold, standing right at his heels- like a shadow- is Sarawat.

2.  Both of them look thunderous which is an honestly terrifying thing to behold.

3. Tine is absolutely, undeniably, completely Screwed.

Tine accepts these universal truths as they arise and, wasting not another moment, rushes past Fong. He dodges past the ledge of the door frame and grabbing a startled Sarawat by the wrist- runs. As expected, Fong's indignant shouting reverberates through the linoleum but Tine pays no heed. 

'One battle at a time,' he thinks a little deliriously as he tugs Sarawat down the two flights of stairs into the lobby. Then he stops because he's about fifty percent sure Fong is not following and also because it's raining. Tine supposes it would explain why Fong's room was so misleadingly dark. This thought is quickly cut off when the hand captured in his rips away and unexpectedly clamps over his own. Tine whirls around to look at Sarawat and does a double-take. 

His boyfriend looks livid- which isn't new- but he's also drenched. His full-sleeved shirt clings to his body and all of his hair is spiked with water that is still dripping onto his rigid shoulders. 

"What on earth..."

The reply is biting, "Oh so the boyfriend speaks. That's good to know."

"What do you mean-"

"15 messages, 3 missed calls and 2 voice mails."

Tine doesn't understand at first but then the realisation strikes him with an almost corporeal impact. When he casts a mollified glance at Wat, he's leveled with a stare. 

Tine sighs. This is going to be a long, long day.