A BREATH OF FRESH AIR.
Sarawat's heart was beating violently inside of him, trashing around like a trapped bird inside a cage, hands feeling clammy. Type had stayed downstairs in the hospital cafeteria with a dissatisfied little frown on his face, arms crossed over his chest. Displeased or not, he still had to honor his promise and uphold his side of the deal to help Sarawat get signed in at the hospital to see Tine, now that he had been transported back to Thailand.
"Here, are you satisfied now?" Sarawat said coldly, reddish lips downturned as he handed Type a USB stick with the requested, damaging documents.
Type huffed, narrowing his sharp eyes at Sarawat's stoic expression, the younger man's jaw was sharp and dark brown hair swept nonchalantly back, his chin raised hauntingly. Type then took in Sarawat's whole appearance, almond shaped eyes travelling thoughtfully over the other one's tall body. Sarawat was wearing a loose t-shirt and a casual pair of slacks, Vans on his feet, everything in black and toned arms on display. So this was Tine's type? Type was actually surprised that his brother was into guys, usually all about them girls type of guy with a new petty girl hanging off of his arm every couple of months.
Pear had let it slip that Sarawat had been Tine's crush during freshmen year but he did not understand why Sarawat was so fixated on seeing Tine. He was not in any of Tine's social circles that Type knew about, besides being friends with Man. Except Pear, again, had followed up her explanation with muttering offhandedly that they probably started dating recently and Type's eyes had almost popped out of their sockets. What. The. Hell. How could that happen when Tine was in a coma? Type was undoubtedly feeling confused.
So many unexplainable things had started popping up around Tine recently, almost as if he was telling them that he did not want to go yet, that they should not to give up on him. Frankly, Type did not approve of his parents' decision to turn off Tine's life supply. They should fight for him instead of letting him go so easily when even Tine's own body was obviously clinging desperately to the remaining dregs of his precious life. Type's lips quivered slightly.
"Satisfied? Nothing can undo what's happened," Type replied steely to the inadequate question as he snagged the memory stick out of a tanned hand of the supposed boyfriend of his little brother.
Sarawat pursued his lips, eyes squinting slightly as he looked at Type. Now that he knew that Type was Tine's brother he could see some vague similarities in their features, however their personalities appeared to be completely opposite. Type was more on the cool, feisty side while Tine had been more bubbly and cheeky in his approach, although both seemed to flush pretty easily. Cute.
"I would appreciate it if you'd talk to me before doing anything with these documents," Sarawat said on a more serious note, all sneer and bark swept away as he earnestly looked at Type with his big, dark eyes. His empty hand slumped back to his side while the other one rubbed at his own nape agitatedly, biceps bulging slightly. "There's no excuse for what happened to Tine but you still have a choice of not ruining someone else's life."
Type cocked his head to one side, eyes narrowing into slits as the wheels inside his head turned, taking in and processing the information. Type was not out for blood here, he just wanted to do what was right by his brother.
"Okay, I'll consider that," he replied finally, feeling both conflicted and irritated that Sarawat had gotten under his skin with these few words. It was not like throwing Sarawat's family to the press and putting them under a criminal investigation would make him feel any better and it would certainly not bring Tine back, which was the only thing that actually mattered. Maybe getting to meet Sarawat like this was not all that bad, really, in the grand scheme of things. Huh. How sly of Sarawat to appeal to his emotions, bringing out the empathy card.
It seemed that Type had some serious things to think about before his made his next move.
At present, several stories up, Sarawat wiped one clammy hand against his black slacks and reached out his arm shakily, carefully propping open the door to the private intensive care unit. The blinds were closed over the tiny window inside the room, to shield the patient from the bright midday sun and to create a sense of calm. He blinked rapidly into the low light that contrasted the bright, fluorescent lights out in the hall, letting his eyes adjust for a tiny moment. Sarawat then steeled his breath, chest moving up and down precariously, and took a hesitant step forward. He was careful not to disturb the tranquility inside, as his shadow moved slowly over the white surfaces of the hospital equipment. And still, his Vans squeaked treacherously over the clean floor, making Sarawat wince with a flash of white teeth.
Venturing past the doorway, he was instantly met with the dull, beeping sound of a monitor with numbers and scribbly wave lengths jumping up and down on its black, glossy screen and the low hum of a ventilator, its tube connected to a thick, rubbery mask that was slotted in place over Tine's pallid face, undoubtedly assisting him with breathing.
Tine...
Sarawat's breath stilled, all thoughts ceasing inside his mind as time stopped, his slack hand releasing the curved door handle and falling down to hang limply at his side. The door shut close with a soft click behind the young man as he stared hypnotized ahead, his intense gaze slowly uncovering the familiar form lying motionlessly on the hospital bed.
The white, coarse bed sheets covered Tine's body from the end of the bed and up to his chest, neatly tucked around him while his noodly arms were out and limply splayed atop the covers on each side of him, fingers curled softly. An IV-catheter was stuck to the back of one pale hand while the attached bag with IV-fluid was hanging on a rolling stand next to the bed. There were other tubes and vires connected to Tine's body that Sarawat had no idea what they where there for. He swallowed dryly, his pink tongue darting out to wet his dry lips. It all looked so surreal, almost as if there was a spotlight directed at the bed, shining down on Tine, illuminating solely him in Sarawat's swirling orbs.
Sarawat moved forward, his body almost gliding over the floor as he came to stand next to the bed. It was like an out of body experience seeing the real Tine lying there so seemingly peacefully, dark hair mussed and curling around his slack face. Truthfully, Sarawat has had his doubts. Deep, deep down in the back of his complex mind he had still expected to find someone else in this room and not his Tine. This was unbelievable.
Like sea water flooding a ship, white noise started filling his ears the longer he stared at the young man that now held his heart in his fragile, wilting hands. Tine's eyes were closed, lashes dark and feathery, softly grazing his pallid skin. Sarawat wished that that those doe eyes would flutter open and look back at him with that mischievous spark gleaming within them that Sarawat had come to like. And suddenly but not unexpectedly all these repressed feelings rushed ruthlessly through his body, raw and uncensored, making him keel over with a shuddering breath. Sarawat shoot out one hand to steady himself against the hospital bed, the mattress dipping under his weight, just next to where Tine's limp hand was resting.
Sarawat had tried not to think too much about what would happen if Tine really was dead and how that would undoubtedly break him. He had repressed all of it, like a bad dream. But it was okay now. Tine was there with him and he was alive. Sarawat could let it all out now, all his restless worry and his nagging fear, everything that had wanted to swallow him whole. For now, Tine was alive.
Sarawat's hand crept over the sheets as he grasped Tine's clammy hand into his own, blanketing it with his warm palm. In the spur of the moment, not thinking clearly, he hesitantly reached out with the other hand and gently moved Tine's breathing mask away from his mouth, sliding it carefully over Tine's face and fully uncovering his features for the first time. He did not even stop to consider that maybe this was not such a good idea, but seeing as there was no alarms going off from the machines made Sarawat feel recklessly bold with his actions.
Tine looked anemic, his skin was translucent with a web of tiny, blue veins visible at his temples. A white, prominent scar was running along his hairline and splitting his one eyebrow in two tiny caterpillars, a reminder of the unfortunate accident. Tine's cheeks looked sunken in and his lips were dry, flaky even. Sarawat's heart shook. He wanted to scoop Tine's thin body into his arms and just stay there with him in the slim hospital bed, his ear pressed against Tine's barely beating heart.
"Tine, I'm here," Sarawat whispered hoarsely into the space between them, his heart rate increasing as he clutched at Tine's hand even harder, futilely waiting for a responding squeeze back. Tine's fingers felt thin and slightly chilly within his grasp. "I have found you, please come back now, your time obviously isn't up yet," he said, trying to sound more firm in his coaxing. Tine had liked playing tricks on him, maybe this was just one of them?
Only silence and the insistent beeping of the heart monitor was his reply. Tine's heart was beating sluggishly, barely managing to keep up the pace that was needed to maintain his body alive. His breath was irregular, soft puffs of air hitting Sarawat's face as his chest worked laboriously, rising up and down. Something broke inside of Sarawat looking at this barely living version of Tine. The ghost had perhaps looked like Tine while in his prime, as the best version ever envisioned of himself.
Sarawat swallowed the lump in his throat, lips quivering. A bitter tear slid down Sarawat's cheek, then another one and another one, dropping with dull splats on the white hospital beddings that covered Tine's chest. The fabric was stiff and taut over his thin body, tucking him in like a baby. Sarawat exhaled shakily and shuffled forward, leaning down and pressing a chaste kiss to Tine's clammy forehead with lips that were puffy and flushed from the heat of his tears. His lips then travelled lower, pressing another butterfly kiss to the corner of Tine's mouth and then lingering there for just a moment longer, breathing Tine in, nosing at his lukewarm skin. Wishing that this was a random morning, as any other, sometime in the future and that he was just kissing Tine awake, kissing him alive. Sarawat let himself linger inside this stolen moment between a dream and reality for a minute, before he had to pull himself together and face the harsh truth of the invertible outcome. He had found Tine, but only to lose him again.
"What the hell are you doing?" Type suddenly asked coldly from behind Sarawat's back, the steel in his voice cutting through the strangely building atmosphere inside the room.
Sarawat exhaled sharply, a little pent up with constantly having his time with Tine interrupted, be it now or when he was a ghost. Hanging his head low, Sarawat straightened up to his full height and moved away from the bed, dark bangs obscuring his eyes, the expression on his face unreadable. Sarawat wiped one callused hand harshly over his damp eyes, then his cheeks and flushed mouth.
"Please leave, now," Type said while glaring at the younger man, barely keeping his voice from wavering, hands curled into fists at his sides. It had been a bad idea to let him inside Tine's room. How the hell had these two even gotten to together? They seemed like such an unlikely pair, with Sarawat doing whatever he wanted. "Our parents are coming soon, it's better if they don't see you."
Sarawat nodded his head dejectedly, black, solid eyes locked on the withering young man lying motionlessly on the bed as he backed out of the room and into the hospital hall.
The unnatural, harsh light out there instantly assaulted his senses. Sarawat blinked rapidly, raising an arm to shield his face from the brightness and a flash of color caught his eyes. He furrowed his angled eyebrows as he looked down at his hand. Huh. Where had that come from? There was a tiny speck of blood on the palm of his hand. Automatically his long fingers dabbed at his mouth, thinking that maybe he had accidentally bitten his lips raw from all the worrying during these past couple of days.
Type tsked at Sarawat's retreating back, flashing his white teeth on a sneer. Pear had tried to feed him the crazy idea that Tine had been hanging around Sarawat as a ghost. He had certainly a hard time believing even an ounce of that but seeing how Sarawat was acting around Tine made him backtrack a little. Fuck. Was the bunch of them just going plain crazy? Was madness contagious? Type swept a cold hand over his pale face, taking a steadying breath. He had to put the breathing mask back on Tine's face. He would keep a close eye on Sarawat next time, certainty not letting him come up to Tine's room alone. All the equipment and vires stuck to Tine's body were there for a fucking reason.
Type turned around, almond shaped eyes darting to Tine's face and he gasped in shock, slim hands flying to his mouth. Tine's eyes were wide open, glossed over and staring unseeingly up into the grainy ceiling.
*·.
Note:
I think that these last two last chapters was the whole reason I started writing this fic, haha, finally I'm at where I wanted to be since chapter one. Only a couple months later (ง'̀-'́)ง
Thoughts so far?