After sitting there for a little longer, I finally looked at him and asked,
"So... are you going back to your car?"
The architecture president immediately made a face.
A very dramatic one.
"Absolutely not."
He crossed his arms.
Still sitting in wet grass like some miserable fallen prince.
"Those psychos are probably waiting there."
Fair point.
I sighed.
"Fine. Then I’ll put you in a taxi and send you home."
I stood up first.
Brushing dirt and leaves off my clothes.
"I seriously need to go home."
Like, immediately.
Before my boyfriend fully ascended into emotional collapse.
Architecture president looked up at me.
Almost like he was about to say something.
But before he could—
I grabbed his wrist again.
"Come on."
And dragged him out of the bush.
He really needed to stop making me hold his hand under life-threatening circumstances.
It was creating a weird dynamic.
We made it back to the main road safely.
Thankfully alive.
Still damp.
Still exhausted.
Still deeply traumatized.
After a few minutes, I flagged down a taxi.
"Get in."
He looked mildly offended.
"You’re very bossy."
"Yes, and you’re very kidnapped-looking. Get in."
That shut him up.
A little.
He climbed in.
I got in after him.
And finally—
for the first time tonight—
I could breathe slightly.
The taxi ride was quiet.
Mostly because I was mentally calculating how dead I was when I got home.
Not from criminals.
From Tata.
Emotionally.
When we got close to my condo, I told the driver to stop.
"Wait here for a second."
Before either of them could ask why, I jumped out and rushed to a nearby shop.
Bought three food packs as quickly as possible.
Then ran back.
As I got in again, I suddenly heard it.
A very unfortunate sound.
Grrrrrrr.
...
I slowly turned.
Architecture president immediately looked away.
His face expressionless.
Like nothing had happened.
But his stomach had absolutely betrayed him.
Loudly.
I stared at him.
Then sighed.
"You’re hungry."
"No."
"Your organs disagree."
Without waiting for permission, I shoved the food packs into his hands.
"Eat when you get home."
He blinked.
Actually looking caught off guard for once.
"...You bought this for me?"
I shrugged awkwardly.
"You haven’t eaten, right?"
He stared at the food silently.
Like nobody had ever handed him basic carbohydrates before.
Which was mildly concerning.
Before he could get weirdly emotional about noodles or something, I handed money to the driver.
"Please make sure he gets home safely."
Then I leaned over and lightly smacked architecture president on the back.
"Try not to get kidnapped again."
He actually laughed softly.
"You say that like this happens often."
"With your life choices? I wouldn’t be surprised."
And before he could answer—
I got out and bolted.
Running straight toward my building.
Because suddenly all I could think about was Tata.
Please be okay.
Please don’t be panicking.
Please don’t be dying dramatically.
I reached the apartment door.
Hands slightly shaking as I unlocked it.
The second the door opened—
I froze.
...Oh no.
Tata was on the floor.
Right by the door.
Curled up.
Like he had collapsed there waiting for me.
My chest physically hurt at the sight.
He was clutching one of my shirts tightly against him.
Almost like a lifeline.
His face was pale.
Eyes swollen.
Tear tracks dried across his cheeks.
Hair messy.
Breathing uneven.
And he was barely conscious.
Just weakly mumbling.
Half-delirious.
"Perth..."
His voice was tiny.
Broken.
"Don’t leave me..."
Again.
And again.
Like a loop.
Like that was the only thought left in his feverish brain.
His body was visibly trembling.
And even from where I stood—
I could tell his fever had gotten worse.
Something inside my chest cracked a little.
Actually cracked.
"Tata."
My voice came out smaller than expected.
I dropped everything immediately.
Medicine.
Food.
Bag.
Didn’t care.
Let it all hit the floor.
Then rushed to him.
Dropping down to my knees.
Pulling him straight into my arms.
"I’m here."
I held him tightly.
Almost desperately.
"I’m back. I’m here."
Slowly—
very slowly—
his eyes opened.
Still blurry with exhaustion.
Still wet.
And the second he properly saw me—
he broke.
A sob escaped him immediately.
Sharp and painful.
Then he grabbed me so tightly it almost hurt.
Actually clinging now.
Like if he loosened his grip for even one second, I’d disappear again.
"Why were you gone so long?"
He was crying hard now.
Voice shaking.
Weak from fever and panic.
"Why were you so late?"
Each word sounded like it physically hurt him.
And I hated myself a little.
A lot.
"I’m sorry."
I kept kissing his forehead.
His hair.
Anywhere I could reach.
"I’m so sorry."
He just cried harder.
Still clutching me.
"I thought something happened to you."
That one sentence nearly killed me.
"I thought—"
His voice cracked.
Couldn’t even finish.
"No."
I cupped his face immediately.
Forcing him to look at me.
"I’m here."
I kissed his forehead again.
"See?"
He looked at me for a few seconds.
Like checking I was real.
Actually here.
Actually alive.
Then buried his face into my chest again.
Still shaking.
I carefully lifted him into my arms.
He didn’t even protest.
Too weak.
Too exhausted.
Too emotionally destroyed.
I carried him to bed.
Placed him down gently.
Covered him with the blanket.
But the second I tried pulling away—
his fingers tightened around my wrist.
Hard.
I looked down.
He was staring at me.
Eyes still watery.
Still scared.
Like if he let go, I’d vanish.
"...Don’t."
Just one word.
Quiet.
But full of fear.
My heart squeezed painfully.
"I’m not leaving."
I sat beside him.
Brushed his hair back gently.
"I just need to give you your medicine first, okay?"
He hesitated.
Then slowly nodded.
Still not fully trusting reality.
I quickly gave him the medicine and water.
Making sure he swallowed everything.
Then I looked down at myself.
Still wet.
Rain-soaked.
Disgusting.
"My clothes are soaked."
I touched his cheek softly.
"I need a quick shower and clean clothes."
Immediately—
his expression changed.
No.
Absolutely not.
He hated that idea.
His grip tightened again.
I smiled softly.
Trying to reassure him.
"I’ll be fast."
He still looked unconvinced.
Very unconvinced.
After a few seconds, he reluctantly loosened his grip.
Like physically forcing himself to let me go.
"...Come back quickly."
"I will."
I kissed his forehead one more time.
Then rushed to shower faster than any human in recorded history.
Five minutes later, I came back in clean clothes.
Hair still damp.
And immediately climbed onto the bed beside him.
Actually—
not beside.
I pulled him straight into my lap.
Wrapping both arms around him securely.
Tata instantly melted against me.
Like his entire nervous system had been waiting for this exact moment.
He buried his face deep into my neck.
Arms wrapping tightly around my waist.
And then—
quietly—
he started crying again.
Not loud this time.
Just soft trembling breaths against my skin.
"I was scared."
His voice was muffled against my neck.
Small.
Childlike, almost.
"I was really scared."
I held him tighter.
One hand rubbing slow circles on his back.
"I know."
I kissed the top of his head.
Again and again.
"I’m sorry."
He shook his head slightly.
Still hidden against me.
Still clinging.
For once—
neither of us said anything after that.
Just stayed there.
Holding each other tightly.
Like we were both trying to make sure the other one was still real.
Still here.
Still safe.
And honestly?
After tonight—
that felt like enough.
