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Thirty-two minutes.
It’s been exactly thirty-two minutes since Ray had been sitting in the waiting room, but it felt like he had been there much, much longer. His eyes travelled over to the clock that was hanging up on the wall of the hospital waiting room and he swallowed thickly because it felt like he had been there for way too long.
Hours.
Ray felt like he had been sitting there for literal hours, if not more.
There was so much going around him, but he wasn’t paying attention to any of it. The voices around him blurred together, he couldn’t really make out what he was hearing. He could hear a child crying, people were rushing around him, the hospital staff all in a hurry, but Ray wasn’t paying attention to any of them, staring completely blankly in front of himself.
Every single time that the door hissed open, Ray would look up, but all that he saw were strangers.
And somewhere behind that door was Sand.
So close, yet so far out of Ray’s reach.
That horrible, awful phone call kept replaying in Ray’s head. No matter how much he tried to escape from it, it just kept coming back, ramming into his chest, squeezing, making it more and more difficult to breathe.
“Mr. Pakorn? We’re calling you to inform you there has been an accident. You are listed as his emergency contact. He’s been taken to the emergency department…”
Everything else blurred.
Ray was in their apartment, trying to decide what meal to prepare for lunch, when the phone rang. It was a day like any other, Sand was supposed to be on his way home when his phone rang.
Ray didn’t really remember what happened next, but he remembered grabbing his car keys, his hands shaking as he scrambled himself to the door. He barely remembered to put on his shoes. The trip to the hospital also dragged on forever. Somehow, he managed to stop at every red traffic light, but when he finally reached the hospital…
“I got a call about my boyfriend. Sand? He was in an accident.”
“Sir, you have to wait.”
“Can someone tell me how my boyfriend is doing or is everyone useless around here?!”
“We cannot give you that information – yet.”
“Can you just tell me if he is fine?!”
“I’m sorry, sir.”
“Just tell me something…
“Please, sit-”
“Which room is he in?”
“Please, sit down.”
“I have to see my boyfriend! Why won't you let me see him?!”
Ray snapped at a young nurse that was working behind the receptionist desk. Ray knew that she was only doing her job. She was giving him all the information that she had at the time, asking him over and over to calm down.
But, Ray couldn’t calm down, so he made a scene. In order not to be thrown out, he forced himself to sit down, but it was fucking torture.
Ray glanced at the clock again.
Thirty-three minutes and counting, but Ray tried telling himself that it was okay. He kept pressing his fingernails into his palms, his knuckles going white to the bone as he tried telling himself that it was nothing serious.
Sand was always careful.
Sand always wore a helmet.
But, if it was something minor, they would let him see him – right? They would, wouldn't they? Because someone with a minor injury wouldn’t just disappear behind those emergency doors and be there for half an hour.
The place was busy.
It really was packed.
The more serious cases got treated sooner, so maybe Sand was just waiting.
Ray felt how his stomach churned and he felt like throwing up because he was getting impatient. His foot was impatiently tapping against the floor as he dragged his hand over his face as he tried not to spiral down because another scary thought crept in and he quickly shook his head.
No.
They would tell him if it was something serious.
Why wouldn’t anyone tell him how Sand was doing? Just… enough to put the worries out of his mind. Ray could wait calmer if he knew that Sand was okay, but no one would tell him anything.
The waiting was too much, his breath hitched and he was breathing way too fast for his own liking, gulping as he needed to get a grip, but his vision was blurry. He couldn’t seem to catch his breath and he slowly stood up.
The waiting room was too small for his liking ,the walls were closing in on him. The air was suddenly too thin. He kept trying to catch his breath, but he felt out of breath, pacing around the waiting room.
Ray counted five steps towards the door, then another five back to his seat, one glance at the clock and he saw that it’s been thirty five minutes, biting on his lower lip because he could feel the craving slowly slipping back in.
In order to calm his nerves, all it would take was one small sip.
One tiny sip.
“Fuck,” gasped Ray, his hands fumbling and he grabbed onto his phone, his eyes red and burning as he slowly tried to call Sand again. He tried it before, but Sand wouldn't answer.
It was just…
Sand.
Sand’s number was right there on top, tapping on his number and he waited, the phone was ringing, the phone call was coming through, but there was no one picking it on the other side.
Ray almost could hear Sand picking it up, calling him a crybaby, telling him that he was just okay.
Ray sniffed.
But, Sand didn’t pick up.
The temperature in the room dropped as he tried calling again and again.
“Pick up, please, Sand, pick up,” kept chanting Ray to himself as the phone kept ringing and ringing, but no one was picking up and his chest tightened up even more, all of the air punched out of him as he felt his knees buckling and he leaned against the wall, vision blurry.
People were staring at him.
Who cared? The only thing that mattered was Sand. The only good thing that ever happened to Ray was Sand and…
Ray couldn’t breathe. No matter what techniques of controlled breathing he had been taught, he couldn’t remember a single one of them because Sand wasn’t there. The walls kept shrinking, pressing down on him and as he blinked tears spilled and he gasped.
The door hissed open again.
A stranger.
Not Sand.
Not a doctor, but…
Ray flinched when he heard footsteps, bumping into someone with his back, muttering a quick apology and he swallowed thickly.
Ray needed air.
Sand.
Ray needed Sand.
Ray couldn’t. The smell of antiseptic was too much, it was making him nauseous. He was going to get sick and he literally bolted towards the exit because he needed fresh air, the sound of his rapid heartbeat pounding in his ears as he stumbled out of the hospital, the loud traffic nearly deafening and he clutched onto his hair.
Ray tried to inhale in, but every breath got lunged at the back of his throat. He blinked hard, swallowing thickly. There was a convenience store right across the street, keeping his eye on it for a bit longer before he turned away.
His chest remained too heavy as he just needed to… Clear his mind.
Away… He needed to get away.
Ray started walking, nowhere in particular, stumbling across the parking lot, a loud humping noise startling him from behind and he jumped to the side, the tears blurring his vision.
His footsteps got faster, he was running, heart trapped at the back of his throat as he couldn’t seem to calm down, a loud hiccup escaping past his lips as he ran faster.
Ray didn’t really know how much time passed from the time he ran away from the hospital. Now, he was back there. Well. He was standing across the hospital, on the opposite side of it, in front of the convenience store.
His feet worked faster than his mind as he slowly stepped inside of the convenience room, swallowing thickly because he wasn’t thinking. Ray didn’t want to think, he simply wanted to drown out the worries because he couldn’t process what was happening. He didn’t want to…
Sober.
Ray felt too sober to deal with this.
Stumbling over to the side, Ray walked past the aisle of instant noodles and bags of his chips, gulping hastily as he walked past the energy drinks and other cheap snacks and he took a deep breath in, eyes going to the exit and he knew that it was a mistake coming here.
Ray needed to step out before he did something stupid.
But, his body wouldn’t listen, he was too weak, too desperate as he walked to the other aisle and he glanced up on the second shelf and reached for the bottle that was way too familiar to him.
Whiskey.
It’s been a bit over a year since he last drank and he’s been doing fine. Up until now, he was doing fine, but right now he couldn’t handle it and his breath hitched, the coil around his ribs got even tighter when he grabbed the drink, the heaviness lingering in his hand as he looked over to the cash register.
Ray felt sick, but he went to pay for the drink.
“Will this be all, sir?”
Ray was out of breath, he nodded and paid for the bottle as it was scanned. He didn’t say much, he simply walked out and he crossed the street.
There was that ugly feeling clawing at his chest, eating him hollow from inside out as he hid the bottle in his jacket. He took the jacket off, it was too hot, and he wrapped up the bottle in it, slowly walking back inside of the hospital.
It was as if nothing happened, no one could see what he was holding under the jacket, but he could feel the weight of the bottle as he returned slowly into the waiting room, staring towards the floor, his eyes going up to the clock over and over again as the minutes dragged on.
Two minutes.
Five minutes.
Seven minutes later, Ray couldn’t stop thinking about it because he knew that it could help. Just one sip, one small sip could make things more bearable.
It wouldn’t be enough to get him drunk, but it would be enough to make the shaking stop. It would make things easier and his face crumpled in pain as he hated himself at that moment.
Nine minutes.
No, Ray couldn’t do it.
His fingers kept curling around the neck of the bottle tighter and tighter and no matter how he tried not to think about it, he decided that he was too weak, slowly stepping on his legs.
Just one drink.
One tiny sip.
Ray was on the move as he slowly walked over to the nearest bathroom that was there, locking himself inside and the lights flickered above his head as he leaned up against the sink, looking at himself in the mirror and he could see just how red and puffy his eyes were.
Face was covered with traces of dried up tears.
His lips were pale and he slowly dropped his jacket to the side, swallowing thickly as he felt his heartbeat picking up when his eyes landed on the golden liquid inside of the bottle and he wished he wouldn’t.
Ray felt like he was going to throw up when he twisted the cap open and the smell of sharp whiskey hit him immediately.
Oh, god.
Ray could still remember it, the taste of the liquid on his tongue, the way it would slide down his throat, the burning when it reached his stomach. The pleasant waves of heat radiating through him and the worries finally disappearing.
Ray’s eyes were unsteady as he panted for air, eyes on the bottle and he shuddered because it really took one small sip to make it all okay. No one would have to know. Not even Sand.
Especially not Sand.
It would be his little secret and Ray’s hand was shaking so hard that the liquid slowly spilled over the rim of the bottle, trickling down his fingers.
The sharp smell was now even stronger, even more intoxicating, playing with Ray’s mind as new tears welled up in his eyes.
Weak, so pathetic.
Sand was always there for him and when he needed to be there for Sand this one time, he folded like the coward that he was. The smell was clinging to his skin and Ray hated it.
Ray hated it so much.
If Sand knew what he was about to do, it would break his heart.
“No,” whispered Ray and shook his head frantically and tears ran hot down his cheeks. “No, no, I didn’t mean it.”
But he did, didn’t he?
He bought the whiskey, he opened it, he craved it.
It hit him like a ton of bricks and he stumbled back as a little sob tore from the back of his throat because he didn't want this. He didn’t, he couldn’t…
Anger flashed in his eyes, the guilt making it impossible to take that next breath in as he leaned over to the sink and he acted quickly, turning the bottle upside down.
The whiskey ran into the sink, down the drain…
Ray didn’t stop until the bottle was completely empty and that was when he finally trusted himself again, angrily tossing the empty bottle into the bin at the side and then he leaned back against the tiled wall, leaning his head back and he slowly slid down the wall, sinking down to the ground as that was when it all hit him at once.
That was when Ray finally allowed himself to feel.
Because all this time, he didn’t want whiskey.
Sand.
Ray just wanted Sand.
Instead what he had was an empty bottle, cold tiles under him and his shaky hands, which he pressed against his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” whispered Ray into the silence around him as another sob tore out of him.
Two whole fucking hours passed before someone callsed Ray’s name.
“Mr. Pakorn?”
Ray’s head shot up right away and he could see a doctor standing by the doors, a clipboard in his hands and Ray was immediately on his feet, hurrying over to the man. The man looked calm enough, so Ray was hopeful that Sand…
“Are you here for Sand?”
Ray nodded.
The man must’ve noticed the desperation in Ray’s eyes because he shot up to his feet quickly, knocking over the chair that he was sitting on, but it didn’t really matter and Ray struggled to form a sentence.
Ray wanted to ask about Sand, but nothing came out.
“He’s okay,” said the doctor and Ray’s eyes widened when he heard that. That was what he needed to hear first, so he was glad that the doctor told him that. Ray’s knees buckled under the weight of his body.
Okay.
Sand was okay.
As he took a deep breath in, the air finally hit his lungs properly after two hours and he tried to pace himself, but his voice was creaking and he didn’t even care anymore if he…
“Can I…” stammered Ray and he glanced down, trying again. “Can I see him? Please?”
The man nodded.
“Of course, he’s been asking for you as well,” he said softly and Ray nodded. “He’s got a broken arm and a few stitches. We’d like to keep him around for a few more hours for observation, but he is going to be just okay.”
As Ray blinked, tears of relief ran hot down his cheeks and the man was kind enough to pretend to not notice the tears and he slowly signed Ray to come after him.
“This way,” said the man and Ray was glad that he was taken to see Sand right away, slowly trailing behind the doctor, going down the long hallway and with each step that he was taken closer to Sand, he felt that he was close to unravelling
His steps became lighter, but the knot in his chest was getting tighter.
Ray stopped next to the doctor, who was now standing in front of the door.
“You can go in. A nurse will come shortly to see how he’s doing,” said the man and Ray nodded.
“Thank you,” whispered Ray and he didn’t hesitate anymore because he needed to be with Ray right away, pushing the door open and he braced himself for an impact and he gasped when he saw Sand.
Sand was sitting up, his left arm was secured in a blue sling, already wearing a cast and he could see that Sand’s other arm was badly scraped up. There were bandages around his forearm and there were a few stitches sitting and then disappearing into his hairline, above his right eyebrow.
Sand looked pale.
But despite everything, Sand smiled when he saw Ray.
“Ray,” said Sand, the sound of his voice knocking the rest of air out of Ray’s lungs and he closed the door after stepping inside, but he coulčdn’t say anything. He couldn’t utter a single word as he crossed the room in complete silence and he slowly reached out, careful to not hurt Sand’s arm.
Ray’s hand slipped into Sand’s free hand and he gasped when he felt just how warm Sand was. His fingers curled around Sand’s wrist, feeling his heartbeat under his fingertips made tears rush into Ray’s eyes and he gasped.
Ray’s chest heaved.
This was all it took for him to completely break down, tears spilling down his face and his shoulders were shaking as he couldn’t even breathe. He glanced down, feeling everything at once, but most of all – he felt relief.
Ray was so scared and now… Sand was there.
With him.
Ray was unable to stop crying, tears streaming down his face and Sand felt his eyes welling up as well because he… he hated seeing Ray cry like this. He knew that those were tears of relief, but… Sand’s lower lip shook as Ray slowly glanced at him.
“Sand,” stammered Ray and Sand smiled through his tears.
Sand hated that they made him wait this long.
Sand was pissed off before because they took away his phone. He wanted to call Ray, to tell him that he was okay because he knew. He fucking knew how panicked Ray would be.
Who thought it was a good idea to call Ray like this and then not let Sand speak to him?! Sand was so, so worried for Ray and he slowly linked their fingers together, everything hurt, but he was okay.
“Crybaby,” teased Sand, a poor joke, trying to make Ray smile and it only made Ray cry louder.
“Shut up,” hiccuped Ray.
With his hand, he gently ruffled Ray’s hair and Ray pressed his hands into his eyes and tried to stop crying, but it was to no avail and Sand simply tugged onto Ray’s hand, making him sit down with him and Ray swallowed thickly.
“I’m okay,” whispered Sand and Ray’s eyes were on him. “Just a broken arm and some stitches. Mn?”
Ray’s hands were trembling badly and Sand slowly ran his fingertips over his knuckles.
“Shh, don’t cry, mn?”
“I was terrified, Sand,” whispered Ray.
“I know,” said Sand, gently caressing Ray’s face. “I tried to call you, but they took my phone away. I tried to tell them to tell you I was fine, but they… Ugh,” whispered Sand and Ray hiccuped again.
“Mmmm.”
Ray leaned in and Sand pressed a kiss against his forehead. Then, another one against his wet cheek and then he kissed both of his eyelids, trying to soothe RAy, who leaned in and pressed their lips together.
Sand smiled when he felt Ray’s trembling hands holding his face and he leaned into the soft touch, letting the tears wet his face as well and Ray’s fingers were scooping the tears away, sniffling himself as he shook his head and pressed his forehead together.
“When… When can I take you home?” asked Ray and Sand smiled.
“Soon, I hope. I hate it here,” whined Sand and Ray nodded.
“I’ll take care of you,” whispered Ray and kissed him again, careful not to touch Sand too rough, but Sand didn’t mind it. Right now, he didn’t care how, he just wanted to be as close to Ray as it was physically possible and laughed softly.
“I know,” said Sand, Ray’s eyes carefully studying the bruises and the cuts.
Sand’s lip was also split. It had to be bleeding before quite a lot.
“I’ll cook for you,” said Ray.
“Mmm,” hummed Sand and a little grin spread over his lips. “Will you give me a sponge bath too?” teased Sand and Ray glanced at him, a mix of a sniffle and a chuckle escaping past his lips.
Usually, he would make a joke out of it, but right now he just nodded as tears rushed back into his eyes.
“Mmm. Anything you want, na?”
Sand rubbed the back of Ray’s head as he pulled him in for another kiss.
Sand was okay.
Ray stayed with him until a few hours later, when he was finally allowed to take Sand home and perhaps he became a little bit of a helicopter boyfriend while Sand’s arm and his wounds were healing, but Sand never said anything.
Sand simply smiled, letting Ray fuss over him.