guide me towards salvation | tinsley/goldsworth

chapter three

Tinsley must have stared at the money for an inordinate amount of time. He still doesn't know what to think. Shell-shocked is an understatement. When his senses returned to him, he quickly hid the bag inside the closet, set on never using it. Somehow, he already knows what kind of a man RG is without thinking too much about it. Even now, as he presses coffee grounds, he's thinking about the possibly-illegally-obtained-money. It isn't a surprise to him that RG might be involved in illicit activities hence the excessive injuries and the blood money.

Tinsley palms his face before handing the customer his coffee. The customer takes it, looking at him worriedly, 'You okay, man?'

'Mind your damn business,' he says irritably, rubbing his temple. The customer seems startled, scurrying off. He just closes his eyes, not caring if he just violated employee etiquette or some other bullshit like that.

'Rough night?' A voice snaps him out of misery, and when he turns to the source, he is greeted by the sight of Kwo Wey, looking generally happy about his life, which offends him greatly. Tinsley just grumbles, resting his head on his hand. He hears his bubbling laughter. 'I guess that answers my question.'

'Last night was great, by the way. Thank you for asking.' He says, while hopping on a stool in front of Tinsley. Confused, he raises his head to face the shorter man before realization dawns on him.

'Sorry,' He runs a hand through his shaggy, sandy hair, feeling only partially guilty. 'Something came up.'

Kwo Wey just waves it off. 'Ah, no harm done. It was pretty uneventful, anyway.' He sighs, looking somber.

'How's your girl?'

'Xue was a little, heh, jet-lagged.' He smiles, although it looks a little forced. 'Although, it's understandable, of course!'

'Of course.' Tinsley says, slowly.

'Speaking of, the reason of my being here is...' Kwo Wey pauses, scrambling to look for something inside his canvas duffle bag, '...this!' He hands him a cream-colored, ceramic box with a black lid. Confounded, Tinsley takes it and is slightly alarmed by how heavy it is. There's something written by a black marker on the side: Kwo Wey Lim.

'It's a bento box, you can heat it in the microwave.' Tinsley stares at him. 'It's food! I've been trying my hand at it, since I want to own a restaurant someday.'

'Um.'

'Let me know what you think of it!' Kwo Wey says cheerily, slapping the counter before exiting the coffeehouse.

Bewildered, Tinsley is left staring at the bento box, his headache all but forgotten.

—

After his shift, he comes across the pet store from before. Without realizing it, his feet have dragged him inside. His eyes are glued to a tabby cat sleeping with its head resting on its paws. He raises his hand to stroke the orange-colored fur on top of its head, making the cat blink its green eyes at him. Tinsley stares as it boops its head on his hand and goes back to sleeping.

Green, not amber.

Tinsley shuts his eyes, a rush of ache knocks the wind on his lungs. He heaves a deep sigh before turning to leave.

—

Tinsley walks all the way home. Instead of an empty farmhouse, he finds the opposite when he inches closer to his white fence. He furrows his brows as the figure donning a suit seems to inspect his crops, his back turned against him. 'Hello there?'

The man straightens up and faces him, a self-satisfied smile curling his mouth. 'Hello again.'

Tinsley almost drops the bag he's holding, but thankfully he regains composure. He keeps his expression blank as he continues walking towards his house, casually asking, 'How's your arm?'