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The garish, pink, glittery heart-shaped garlands are one of the first things that Tine notices about the tiny café on the corner of the street. The outer-walls of the café are pink as well — the kind of pink that hurts your eyes if you stare at it for too long. Looking at it, Tine doesn't quite know what to feel. Even the name of the shop — Café of Love — in all its large loopy handwriting, is hidden by the hearts that surround it. Tine glances at Sarawat, who looks equally appalled by the jarring — if not seasonally appropriate — decorations of the café. Upon closer inspection, there are glittery hearts drawn on the walls of the café. Tine feels Sarawat huff out a laugh from where he's beside him, and he sets out to push the heart-shaped door.
If the outside of it hurt Tine's eyes in ways he could never truly recover from, the inside is somehow even worse. The walls of the café are the same pink from the outside, except there's no sunlight to soften the blow. Tine cannot glance at one spot without being hit by the abundance of heart-shaped things, be it the decorative wall, the tiny corner tables, the wall decorations, the tissues, or even the confetti that lay bare on the floor.
The café, in its entirety, is not at all what Tine expected in his roommate and his best-friend Sarawat's itinerary of spending Valentine's Day together (no, not in that way; Tine had checked). It is so over the top that Tine can only look at Sarawat with unbridled horror in his eyes.
"Oh my god," Tine whispers, taking it all in.
"Oh my god," Sarawat repeats from beside him, wincing slightly at the fluorescent pink lights in the cake display.
"This is where you take me to celebrate our Singles' Valentine's Day?" asks Tine, trying to take all the pink in, "Here? This place?"
The café is fairly full, despite it being only 10 am in the morning, save for the tiny (heart-shaped) tables at the very end, somehow managing to overshadow the rest of the interior.
Tine looks over at Sarawat when he doesn't answer, who looks affronted, burning holes in the heart-shaped balloons hanging over one of the tables for two at the very end of the café.
"They had raving reviews of blueberry pancakes," Sarawat murmurs in a small voice. "You love blueberry pancakes. It felt perfect for our Valentine's Day."
Tine's heart skips a beat. This place, that first felt like gluttony of commercialised love, felt a lot more like home in an instant.
"I do love blueberry pancakes," Tine replies, then clears his throat, his hand suddenly clammy. "Thank you."
Sarawat looks at Tine, all glittering eyes, the corner of his lips lifting in the slightest. Tine wants to kiss him. "Don't thank me before you try it," he says. "I really don't think that the display is all that necessary, though."
"How else will you feel the magic of Cupid?" Tine teases, pulling him by the arm towards the only available (heart-shaped) table in their purview. "I mean, isn't this enough to make you believe in the power of love?"
Sarawat lets himself be pulled by Tine with ease. "You know what, nuisance? It might just work the other way round for me," he settles on, as they settle into the too-small-for-their-long-legs chairs around their heart-shaped table.
Tine is certain that if he stretches, even a little bit, their knees would brush against one another.
"Really? You'll stop believing in love because of this… capitalistic display of it?" Tine asks, stretching his legs and making a show of casually looking around, catching the sight of a heart-shaped blackboard behind the counter that he'd somehow missed.
Sarawat does not reply for a while, and when Tine looks over, he has a soft, open expression on his face, something Tine has been accustomed to ever since he's known Sarawat, something Tine always has difficulty deciphering, something that churns Tine's stomach, a feeble attempt at condensing all the feelings Sarawat stirs inside of him.
"No," Sarawat whispers, leaning forward with his elbows resting on the table. "No, I don't think anything has the power to make me stop believing in love," he says, a little louder.
Something in his voice compels Tine to keep looking at him, prodding at him. It is not often, after all, that Sarawat talks about love.
"Oh?" Tine ponders, mirroring Sarawat's position, leaning in conspiringly. "How come?"
Sarawat has a hint of a smirk on his face, as he remains otherwise impassive, cruel.
"Ah, Wat, I get it now," Tine says in a weak attempt at sound cheerful, not really 'getting it'. "You have someone making you believe in love, don't you?"
Sarawat leans in even closer, their knees brushing against one another, his eyes sparkling in the dull light of the café. "Let's just say that only a glance from that person would make me believe in love all over again."
Tine's heart stutters and ceases to function entirely, before his brain kicks in and makes him forcibly smile, wider than he would've, otherwise.
"Oh?!" Tine exclaims, with fake cheer, repeating Sarawat's words in the head at an off-chance that he is misunderstanding it. "Are you saying that you have a crush?"
Sarawat only looks amused, as if Tine was exhibiting something outlandish in front of him, and not exhibiting the traits of someone who wants to be happy for his friend and yet feels as though an eighteen-wheeler ran over him. "Crush is one way to put it," Sarawat says with a shrug.
"Ahem," comes a voice from above them, before Tine can even react to that. "Here's your menu," the waitress says, handing them one large heart-shaped atrocity.
"Wow," says Sarawat, carefully holding the menu, not even trying to actively take it from the waitress. "Is this even necessary?"
Tine kicks his leg, widening his eyes as though to say, 'you can't just say this to someone who only works here!'
Sarawat looks at him as though he does not understand, even though Tine knows that he does.
Tine sighs, turning towards the waitress. "Sorry about him," he says with a smile.
The waitress merely raises her eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "It's a special Valentine's menu," she says, as though that were obvious. "Do you not want it?"
"We don't need that," Tine says, voice sounding a little too thin.
At this, she looks surprised. "Are you sure? I mean, you're getting 15% off on our menu and you want to return it for the normal ones?"
"Sorry about him," Sarawat says with a wide smile, trying to pull the menu protectively towards him. "We'll take it."
The waitress gives them a dubious glance. "If you're not a couple, it's okay," she says, "and I apologise for mistaking you as one. It's just that you were sitting at the couple's tables when the other side of the café is entirely empty."
Tine and Sarawat lean over to look at the other side that did not even exist until this very moment. "Oh, right," Tine says, looking at the more comfortable, empty tables, his cheeks burning at the implication of sitting where they are. "Uh—"
"No need for that," Sarawat answers smoothly, his palm coming to envelop Tine's hand. "We're sitting here for a reason," he says, winking in Tine's direction.
Tine can only hope that Sarawat does not feel the way his hand shivers under the weight of his, deciding instead to fixate heavily on the firecrackers bursting rapidly under his skin where they touch.
The waitress merely raises her eyebrows, not letting go of the menu clutched in her hands.
Tine quickly covers Sarawat's cold hand with his own, before pressing gently. "We are! We were just caught off-guard, you see? We just got together, and we still can’t believe it."
"Hm," says the waitress, and leaves the menu be. "Call me when you're ready."
“Thank you!” Tine hurries to add. “You’re making this day very memorable for us!”
The minute she turns around to stalk off, Tine leans forward, folding the menu so he can look at Sarawat's face.
"What was that about?"
"We get a discount!" Sarawat exclaims. "The deal is worth it, no?"
"The deal," Tine echoes. Of course. "Don't think you're getting out of talking about the person you're in love with," Tine says, proud of the fact that his voice manages to not waver in the slightest. "I'm your best friend! I want to know! You rarely ever talk about things like that."
(They rarely ever talk about things like that. Sarawat, because he didn’t date and didn’t like people — the latter of what Tine had falsely assumed. Tine, because he always felt as though he was committing sacrilege, telling the one he loves that he was dating someone else.)
"Tine," Sarawat says, his voice lowering. "Today is about us, isn't it?"
At Tine's hesitant nod, Sarawat tightens his hold on his hand. "So, talking about thatis not something we're going to do, okay?"
Tine won't push him to talk, even though he's breathing funny and his heart feels like it's going to crack, even though he feels that his world has been lifted off and dropped from its orbit, plummeting into the unknown depths of the universe.
"Okay," Tine says, and lets go of Sarawat's hand.
Sarawat lifts his hand and before Tine can feel the air around it get lonely, he gently turns Tine's hand, to thread their fingers together.
It is…. uncomfortable, and they're going to have to leave their hands to eat, but Tine finds that he doesn't really mind it in the slightest.
"You'll order for me, right?" Tine asks.
"At this point, I know your usual order better than I know mine," Sarawat says, with a soft smile.
Tine reciprocates the smile, bringing their hands closer to him before calling out, "Excuse me? We'd like to place an order, please!"
***
Logically, Tine knows that 'hanging' out with your crush on Valentine's Day because you're both the only single people out of your extended friend group (technically, not the only singles ones, but Ohm and Fong don't count; they've been dancing around and with each other for a long time and despite the lack of a label to what they are, no-one truly believes them when they say that they're single) is not, specifically, a Good Idea. He also knows that pretending to be together, with the said crush on Valentine's Day for an offer, is an even worse idea, especially after having the crush admit to your lovesick, forlorn face, that he is in love with someone.
Tine, despite all odds, is extremely self-aware and has known that his logic seemingly melts out of his bones, causing a puddle, making him slip and fall, whenever he's around Sarawat.
So, Tine thinks that he can be excused. Just this instance.
Especially when he gives his Polaroid camera to the waiter — Preen — to click their picture in front of the aesthetically appealing humongous heart outside the café.
"It's our first Valentine's Day together," Tine gushes, despite not being asked. "I just want to document every single moment!"
"Alright," she shrugs, entirely uninterested. "Just stand however you want."
Tine slips his hand under Sarawat's jacket and pulls him by the waist. Tine doesn't even want look at his expression, afraid to know what he'd find, and somehow even more scared of what Sarawat might find on his face (Tine hopes that it isn't a flicker of jealousy that he feels underneath the happiness for Sarawat and his… crush spilling repugnantly all over his face and he hopes, more desperately, that it isn't love that Sarawat might see — him foolishly wishing that this was real).
Tine tilts his head towards Sarawat and grins. "Ready!" he exclaims in a cheery tone.
Preen snaps a photo and just like that, the moment is over, making Tine feel a little more foolish. He lets go of Sarawat’s waist immediately the thought itself feeling more foreign to him when Sarawat holds his hand and says, “Can you click another picture?” he asks, “I don’t think I was looking in the camera at that point.”
Preen looks at the polaroid and frowns. “Well, okay,” she says, “look at the camera this time. I do need to get back to my shift.”
“Have you seen him?” Sarawat asks, pulling him closer. “How could I look anywhere else?”
Tine stifles the incredulous laugh bubbling in his throat with a scoff. “Shut up.”
“It’s true,” Sarawat says, pulling him closer. "He caught my eye the very day we met. I haven't been able to look away ever since."
“Everything that I’ve known about you has been without my consent,” she murmurs under her breath. “Are you ready now?”
***
Tine can't decide which polaroid to keep, even when they're in the cab, mere minutes away from the cinema.
The first one has Tine leaning towards Sarawat, looking a little frazzled around the edges, as Sarawat looks at Tine in undisguised awe. There is no mistaking his expression; Tine who is tired of projecting his own desires onto every bit of Sarawat's actions, doesn't know what to make of it. The second one has Sarawat looking genuinely happy, his arm around Tine’s waist, the other one in his pocket, as Tine looks at the camera, positively beaming.
“Can I keep this?” Sarawat asks, plucking the former one out of his grasp without even waiting for Tine's reply.
“Hey!” Tine yelps, “I thought you wanted the second one! You asked her to take another picture, didn’t you?”
“That was for you,” Sarawat says, “personally, I would rather look at you in all the pictures than elsewhere. I wasn’t lying, you know?”
Tine's heart thumps. "Lying about what?" he asks.
"About not being able to look away from you," Sarawat says casually with the neutrality of a news reporter reading boring facts off of a teleprompter. The weather is pleasant at 25°C today; Valentine's Day has made love swim all around Bangkok; 23-year-old Teepakorn Aekaranwong was found dead because the love of his life said that he hasn't been able to look away from him.
"You don't get to say that," Tine mumbles, not now, not ever, especially not when Sarawat has someone in his heart.
Sarawat looks away from the Polaroid, his smile slipping off when he deciphers whatever it is that he sees on Tine's face.
"You're still thinking about that?" Sarawat asks in a voice that clearly tells Tine I should not have told you about him.
Tine does not have to answer with words for Sarawat to lean in closer and say, "I will tell you about him when the time is right, okay? I just want to spend today with you. Doing things that people do on Valentine's Day."
Sarawat looks at him earnestly, with unabashed hope brimming in his eyes. Tine can't seem to bear the weight of it.
"Okay," Tine replies, looking back at him. He too has been unable to look away from him. "We don't have to talk about him today. Or ever."
Sarawat still looks a little dubious at Tine's claim— and that look is enough to pry Tine's hand away from his thigh and wrap it around Sarawat's wrist. "Really," Tine insists. "We can enjoy today, just the two of us."
If Tine only has this Valentine's Day with Sarawat in his lifetime, then he's going to enjoy the fuck out of today. Sarawat's 'crush' be damned.
"Okay," Sarawat replies, his shoulders relaxing.
Tine realises that he has a vice grip on Sarawat's wrist when he shifts it, his knuckles digging into Tine's thigh. "Just a second," Sarawat apologetically murmurs. He slots the polaroid between the back of his phone and his transparent back cover in a hurry, and just like that, holds Tine's hand again. As in, intertwines their fingers together and slots them together. For the second time. Today.
Tine doesn't know what part of this strangely wild ride he can concentrate on without it threatening to over-exhaust his mind and his heart, so he decides to compartmentalise and push that compartment in the back of his mind, at least until he gets to scream — theoretically, of course, his roommate, the very reason for all that screaming, would come running if Tine ever so much as yelped in pain — in the privacy of his room.
"What movie are they screening today?" Tine asks, instead.
Purely unconsciously, Tine is sure, Sarawat starts rubbing his thumb in the area between Tine's thumb and finger, letting out a hum. "I don't know," he admits. "It will be a rom-com, mostly."
"You didn't look it up?" Tine asks, despite knowing the answer.
"I wanted to be surprised by it," Sarawat says like he always does, Tine mouthing along with those words before they were even out of Sarawat's mouth.
Sarawat always goes to the extent of never even looking up the trailer or any background information about the actors, a drastic contrast to Tine who hates being surprised by movies. If something didn't seem like a worth of his time from the trailers, it didn't make sense to waste those two hours.
"What if it's not a good film?" Tine asks. "What if it's historical fiction?"
"Oh no, not historical fiction," Sarawat deadpans.
It's uncomfortable to elbow Sarawat — a direct consequence of them holding hands however, Tine manages to shove into Sarawat, unrestrained.
Sarawat's laughter ricochets in Tine's ears well after they reach the cinema.
***
Tine (12:01)
Fellas is it gay when u and ur best bro pretend to be lovers to get discounts on account of valentine's day 😋
Fong (12:01)
I don't even want to know. 😒
Actually, I do. What the fuck?
Ohm (12:02)
everything that u and sarawat do is gay. so. 🥱
Tine (12:02)
he is in love with someone else. so. 🥶
Phuak (12:02)
🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣
Tine (12:03)
:|
Phuak (12:03)
oh ur serious .
um.
you know that…that's not true right? he can't be in love with someone else. Unless he got replaced by a lookalike or something.
Ohm (12:03)
Tine. did he mention the person? or anything about them?
Tine (12:04)
No lookalike, but he seems pretty much in love with him.
He didn't mention anything about him.
Besides it's fine. I'm *fine*.
[inserts this-is-fine.gif]
Fong (12:04)
😐
You're an idiot.
Sarawat is an idiot in love with an idiot.
"Will you be okay with a late lunch?" Sarawat asks, sneaking up on Tine, making him jump and almost drop his phone in fervour.
"Ah fuck!" Tine yelps, holding his chest. "How are you back so soon? Why didn't you warn me?"
Sarawat looks amused, gingerly putting his very large, very warm hand on Tine's back, probably to steady him. "Sorry," he says, not looking sorry at all. "There was no queue at the washroom."
"Right, okay," Tine says, taking a steadying breath and shoving his phone in his pant pocket. "I'm pretty full, so I don't mind a late lunch. Do you?"
"Nope," Sarawat says, the flat of his palm slowly trailing downwards until it stops abruptly.
Tine gazes at Sarawat, only to find him looking a little alarmed, flustered, so out of the usual element, Tine sees him in, that he has to sigh and remove Sarawat's hand from his back so he can hold it properly.
(It seems weird but sometimes Tine feels that his hand was made for this — for Sarawat to hold it the way he holds his instruments, with precious care and love, as though it were a part of himself.)
Sarawat looks at their joined hands with his mouth parted, disbelievingly.
Tine, uncharacteristically nervous, only tugs Sarawat towards him. "Lead the way," he says, his voice coming out thin and weary.
"Love, Rosie is screening at 12:30," says the man behind the ticket counter. "How many do you need?"
"Just the two, please," Sarawat says, but before he can pay, Tine has already scanned the barcode and paid for them.
"You paid for the food this morning, didn't you?" Tine says without looking at Sarawat knowing full well that he has an annoyed look on his face.
"But I planned this day for you," Sarawat replies, nudging Tine. "I want today to be special for you, so you have to let me pay."
"I don't have to let you do anything," Tine says breezily, meeting the eyes of the man behind the ticket counter who gives them a knowing smile.
"Here's the combo offer with these tickets," says the man, still smiling the same wistful way, as if he knows something Tine doesn't and hands them a coupon which has 'Special Combo Offer for Couples' written in bold, glaring letters. "You both make a lovely couple. You can avail of this offer at the food counter."
Tine, who has been frozen on the spot ever since he saw the word couple written on that incriminating piece of paper, moves at that. "We are not—"
"Thank you," Sarawat says smoothly, recovering the coupon from the counter.
The man had just assumed that they were together, romantically, as if there could've been no other explanation other than the fact that they were...romantically together. He'd said quite openly and blatantly that they were a lovely couple, he'd said that, as if —
"Tine," Sarawat calls, snapping Tine out of his frantic thoughts running a thousand miles an hour. "It's alright, we got a deal out of it, didn't we?"
"I— we, he just said—"
"I know that it's all kinds of horrible to imagine a possibility of this ever happening but at least it's working in our favour," Sarawat says with a smile that looks a little sad around the corners.
"This ever happening? What? No!" Tine exclaims, incredulously. "That's not what I mean. It's just that this happened for the second time today."
"And it'll probably happen again," Sarawat says with a shrug.
"And that doesn't bother you?" Tine asks.
Sarawat shrugs again, completely nonchalant to anyone else who sees him, and yet Tine can write a detailed report on the hesitancy in that action.
Tine can't help but feel as though he missed a step in the dark. He catches Sarawat's hand in his. "It doesn't bother me either, okay?" Tine says, desperately wanting to make him believe that. Except for the part where it does, just a little, on the account of 'it' not being real, just wishful thinking on both the ends.
Sarawat's shoulders relax as he gives Tine a steadying smile.
They find good seats in the theatre — a surprising turn of events — after getting their food and drinks from the counter.
“Everyone wants to sit in the corner,” Tine observes, the clusters of couples, he is assuming, gathered on the corner seats.
Sarawat snickers, and when Tine doesn’t join him, look at him a little surprised. “Don’t tell me that you’ve never been one of the couples sitting behind,” he says.
Tine frowns, “No, why would I do that if the good seats are available?”
Sarawat angles towards Tine, his face close to Tine’s and murmurs, “You do know that they don’t really watch the movies, don’t you? They’re all here to make out.”
Tine whips his face towards Sarawat before looking straight ahead. “People still do that?” he asks, instead of what is really on the tip of his tongue: Is this why we’re watching a movie? I don’t mind shifting there if we are! He bites his tongue and moves to shove a handful of popcorn in his mouth.
“Of course,” Sarawat says, inclining away from Tine. “Have you never?”
Tine almost chokes on his popcorn. “No,” he mutters with his mouth full.
Sarawat grins at him, poking his cheek. “Cute,” he says.
The lights are not too dim to hide the blush that must be spreading in Tine’s cheeks. He reaches over and grabs a handful of Sarawat’s caramel popcorn and shoves it in his mouth.
"Whatever," Tine says, his voice muffled.
He reaches in his bucket to grab a handful of popcorn again when his hands brush against Sarawat's, who looks calm at the contact, calmer than the rabbit beat of Tine's heart. Tine hopes that his face remains as impassive as Sarawat's.
They make no move to take their hands away; Sarawat delicately gathers a handful of popcorn — their hands brush against each other more than once, since Tine's brain has decided to freeze his hand where they are — and eats them, all the while holding eye contact.
Sarawat, with a small smile on his lips and pink dusted on his cheeks, is the one to break away first, Tine following his lead. He settles on casually keeping his free hand on the armrest, in case Sarawat wants to hold it again.
The lights in the theatre dim, Sarawat's hand finds his — gently intervening in the space between Tine's fingers, their smiles nearly wide enough to contain the vastness of their feelings that threaten to spill from the seams of what connects them.
***
Valentine's Day, while being one of Tine's favourite holidays (in theory, at least), had also always filled Tine with a deep-rooted melancholy; it didn't matter whether he had someone to celebrate it with or not — it just felt… empty. The way it shouldn't have. His dates were always kind (never as kind as Sarawat), they always seemed to care for him (never the way Sarawat showed his care, all loud and clear), and Tine always liked them (that like never quite amounting to how much he felt for Sarawat, the warm glow in his chest liquefying until he was certain he bled golden).
It had always been more of an 'I wish I were with the right person' and after meeting Sarawat, it had gradually turned into 'I wish I were with Sarawat' until he understood why breathing came easy around him and realised that the depth of That Feeling had begun melting into wanting to spend every day with him, wanting to spend every passing hour close to him, until the enormity of That Feeling drowned him entirely.
So, the truth of the matter is that when Tine — a known romantic — was asked whether he wanted to spend his Valentine's Day by someone he's certain is the love of his life, on a cold, uneventful Sunday afternoon, his heart jumped the way his mind did, to a bunch of ridiculous conclusions.
He's asking me out, his mind said, his heart jumping to agree. He wants to be with me on Valentine's Day, his heart said, his mind agreeing in a clamour. He never said that, said a voice Tine had been attuned to.
This time, however, the voice latched on and embedded itself in Tine's tongue.
"Aw," Tine said, scooting closer to Sarawat. "You’re such a good friend. This is because we're both single and have no dates on Valentine's, right?" Tine asked, hoping, so ardently, that Sarawat would shake his shoulders and disagree, that no, it's because he very much wants Tine to not remain single, and yes, he very much has a date that day.
Instead, Sarawat looked just as expectant as before, "A friend,” Sarawat echoed. “Exactly,” he said, and Tine felt his heart crack, just a little.
"Aw," Tine said, taking his hand away from where he'd somehow found Sarawat's shoulder, trying to infuse as much enthusiasm as before. "This can be our little tradition, then! Our little Singles' Valentine's Day!"
"Yeah, it can!" Sarawat replied with just as much enthusiasm.
(Unbeknownst to Tine — like it always is — his face away from Sarawat's made him impervious to the way Sarawat had stilled, just then, his heart cracking, just a little, at the implications of all that the conversation became.)
***
"I don't get it," Tine says, frowning when they're in a restaurant for lunch. (For some reason, no-one has mistaken them for a couple here. Tine can not justify why that feels like a blow to his system.)
"Why didn't Alex just tell Rosie that they'd kissed? That would've cleared everything from the get-go!"
"He was a kid and so in love and scared," Sarawat says, flipping through the menu. "Wouldn't you have done the same if you were in his place?"
Tine imagines being in his place, kissing his best friend, his best friend telling him that he didn't want to be reminded of the night at all, being on the verge of either losing the one person who could speak his language by owning up to what they'd done or pretending that it had never happened, too scared to lose what was already going smoothly.
He looks at Sarawat and sighs. "I would've," he mumbles regretfully. "But that does not mean that I'd go marry someone I didn't love. He wasn't a kid when he made that choice!"
"In his mind he'd done everything he could've to express how much he loves her," Sarawat points, not looking up from the menu. (Tine doesn't even know why he's making the show of flipping through it. They always order the same thing when they eat here.)
"But marrying someone you don't love simply because the love of your life hasn't gotten the message? Could you do that?"
Sarawat looks up from the menu, finally, and leans forward on the table. "No," he mutters at last. "I don't think I could ever do that," he says softly, looking at Tine in a way that leaves his soul bare.
Tine imitates his position, their knees brushing against one another under the table. "Exactly," Tine mumbles. "I couldn't do that either." And that's when he thinks of it — Sarawat with someone else, truly with them. Tine knows that Sarawat will be all in with him, whoever that is. There's no casual bone in his body.
Tine, who was sure that he'd been projecting all of his feelings on Sarawat's earnest disposition is devastated to know that that's what it was, just that.
Tine lets out a shuddering breath and leans back, his heart hammering with words unsaid, feelings unexplored.
"Excuse me," he calls the waiter. "We'd like to place an order, please!"
"Let me order for you?" Tine asks, holding his hand out for Sarawat on the table.
Sarawat barely nods, looking a little dazed at his hand and back at Tine, before leaning forward and lacing their fingers together.
"We'd like one serving of Tod Mun, Massamann Curry with chicken and rice, and Pad Khing with chicken and rice as well," Tine rattles off when the waiter asks for their order.
"And two glasses of lemonade, please," Sarawat adds in, squeezing Tine's hand together.
"It'll be with you in some time," the waiter assures.
"Do you have any offers for couples?" Tine blurts out, wincing at how crude his words sound. "I mean, it's Valentine's Day and everything," he mumbles. "I was— we were just enquiring," Tine hurriedly adds.
The waiter sighs, "We offer complimentary cupcakes to everyone on Valentine's Day. I will bring them to you after lunch."
"Ah," Tine ducks his head, his neck heating up with embarrassment. "Thank you, that'd be great!"
"What was that about?" Sarawat asks with a teasing lilt in his voice, when the waiter is out of the hearing distance. "A couple, huh?"
"Just to see if they had any offers," Tine makes a feeble attempt at assuring, "since it had been working in our favour."
"Ah," replies Sarawat.
"And because you seemed to think that it would be terrible for me if others thought we were together," Tine says casually, picking up the glass of water from the table.
"Being mistaken as your partner is probably the biggest compliment anyone could ever give me," Tine says, sincerity bleeding through his words, the glass providing a wall of anonymity between Sarawat and him.
When Tine finally gets the courage to look at Sarawat again, he seems to be frozen.
“Wat,” Tine hesitantly calls out.
"Tine…" Sarawat hoarsely says, suddenly unable to meet his eyes.
"It's true," Tine says, squeezing their hands together. "The person you love—" at this, Sarawat's head snaps up, "—is very lucky to have caught your eye."
"The lucky one is me," Sarawat replies quickly as if there were any other possible interpretations to this. "I get the privilege of loving him," he says, looking right at Tine.
"He gets the privilege of being loved by you," Tine insists.
Sarawat opens his mouth to argue, when Tine interjects again, "You don't want to talk about him, I'm sorry that the conversation somehow ends up there," Tine says.
Sarawat opens his mouth again, before exhaling roughly and shaking his head. "It's alright," Sarawat says. "I don't want to make the same mistake that Alex and Rosie do. You deserve to know about him. I want to tell him, too."
The dagger the shape of his words twists ever so slightly in Tine's chest. "Not today, yeah? We can enjoy today without that." Let me at least have today, is what Tine means.
"Okay," Sarawat relents easily. "Do you want to hear about the new song that I'm writing?"
Tine eagerly nods, and it seems like thoughts about anything other than the pink glow of the bubble they have made home are forgotten.
***
“What was your worst Valentine’s?” Sarawat asks.
It had taken Tine half a day to realise that Sarawat’s plan was more of a ‘2-3 activities noted down on a piece of paper’ than an itinerary with time slots assigned to each activity. There was still an hour to kill before they had to go to a Music Shop for something that Sarawat needed, and two and a half hours to kill before they had to meet their friends at the restaurant later, which is why they had taken it upon themselves to roam aimlessly at the mall.
“My worst Valentine’s was actually my best one,” Tine says, letting out an uncomfortable chuckle at the memory.
“Wait, what?” Sarawat asks.
“Yup,” Tine nods. “My boyfriend was kind and nice and he’d prepared this...perfectly crafted plan and I’d actually had a great time. He’d gotten me a box of chocolates and everything,” Tine says. “He’d even written me a poem.”
“That sounds nice,” Sarawat says carefully.
“It was,” Tine sighs. “He broke up with me the next day.”
Tine doesn’t have to look at Sarawat to know that he’s probably a little shocked at the knowledge. “Wait, why?”
Tine shrugs. “Didn’t give me an explanation.”
“That’s horrible,” Sarawat says, “I’m sorry that your best Valentine’s was your worst one.”
“It’s alright,” Tine says. It is not like he ever expected to be lucky in the matters of love. “He must’ve had his reasons. At least he didn’t ghost me.”
Sarawat looks horrified. “Have you been ghosted, Tine?”
“Anyone who has dated online has been ghosted at least once,” Tine mumbles. “Besides I deserved it that one time.”
“No-one deserves that,” Sarawat says. “Why do you blame yourself? What could you have done to make someone ghost you?”
Tine bites his lip. It was the last person he’d asked out, over a year ago before Sarawat and him had started living together. Before Tine realised that his feelings for Sarawat ran deeper than he could even begin to imagine. Before Tine realised that it wasn’t the date that reminded him of Sarawat, it was everything; Sarawat had permeated into everything that he was surrounded by.
“I kept talking about someone else on our date,” Tine says.
“That doesn’t sound like you,” Sarawat says softly.
“I kept talking about you,” Tine corrects, just as softly.
“Oh.”
Unable to bear the weight of Sarawat’s gaze, Tine pulls him towards the entrance of the gaming arena. “Since we have time to kill—”
“Tine,” Sarawat says, his voice heavy with an emotion Tine almost recognises.
“Wat,” Tine heaves a sigh. “Forget it, okay? I made it weird, I—”
“No, no,” Sarawat murmurs assuredly, taking Tine’s hand in his for the umpteenth time today. “You didn’t. Tine I—”
Tine doesn't let him finish his sentence, choosing instead to haul him inside the gaming arena.
"I want a toy," Tine declares, stopping at the claw machine.
“A toy?” Sarawat asks, wary.
Tine nods, determined to not open this can of worms here of all places. “I see a yellow star plushie,” he says bending a little to get a good look at what’s behind the glass. “I also see a strawberry plushie and a unicorn one! You’ll get me one, won’t you?”
“Claw machines are a scam,” Sarawat says, letting out a small groan in defeat. “I am obviously going to try my best to get one for you.”
***
Ohm (12:05)
Calling them idiots is an understatement lol
Fong (12:05)
Do we… wait for them to figure it out?
Phuak (12:06)
we've been waiting for 4 years already 🙄
Fong (12:07)
True. Where is Tine though?
Ohm (12:08)
Sarawat must've come back from wherever he was. We've never been able to sustain Tine's attention when Sarawat is around, so…
Fong (12:10)
Tine, whenever you see this, tell me: did sarawat say that he likes 'someone /else/' or did he say that he likes 'someone'?
Tine (16:53)
Haha. You guys are so funny, no 🙄 I've always paid attention to you. And what have you been waiting for for 4 years, huh?
@fong: he said… someone. But does that even change the meaning?
Fong (16:55)
It does. I'm going to let you figure out what that means.
***
Sarawat and Tine leave the gaming arena until it is time for them to go to the records’ shop that Sarawat desperately wanted to go to. They don’t get the soft toy from the claw machine — despite trying three times — but Tine does win at a gun game in the arcade which gets them a fickle-looking bobble-headed dog.
His name is Steve. Tine isn't certain that his head will last till the end of the night but they're both determined to love him anyway.
He manages to take three of Sarawat's pictures — one when Sarawat is trying to get him a toy from the claw machine, his eyebrows pinched together as he glared at the star plushie behind the glass, the other when Sarawat it is Sarawat's turn at the gun game, losing quite terribly, and the third when he's looking at the camera, frustratingly fond — incredibly important additions to their joint polaroid pictures.
Sarawat observes the third picture for a long time. “This is how I look when I look at you,” he says.
“What?” Tine scoffs.
“I am looking at you,” Sarawat says, holding the polaroid close to his face. “See?”
It feels as though clear, rose-tinted glasses have been perched upon Tine’s nose. Sarawat could not have been looking at Tine like this for him to have never noticed. “Wat…” Tine mumbles. “I—”
“Yeah,” Sarawat shrugs.
(It would be a lie to claim that the air around them has not changed at all ever since Tine’s last admission. The air around them had always felt charged, somehow, but now it feels crackling with electricity; one wrong move and they’re all shocked to the core, thrown off their orbits, plummeting through the depths of the universe together.)
Before Tine can answer, Sarawat pulls him inside the music shop that Tine had not even realised they’d arrived at.
“What do you even want from here?” Tine asks, looking around the rustic looking shop.
"I have a…some guitar strings that I need to check," Sarawat says, rubbing the back of his head. "How about you, uh, look at the back of the store? I heard that they have some unseen Scrubb posters."
Tine raises his eyebrow in reply. There are no such things as unseen Scrubb posters. Or unseen anything. There are only unattainable Scrubb posters (that Tine has tiny printed copies of), and an unattainable vinyl of Clean (that Tine laments over every time he listens to Scrubb songs).
Tine narrows his eyes, but goes behind the shop, regardless. Instead of looking for the copies of the posters, however, he finds a counter full of varied guitar picks.
"Can I help you with something?" asks the salesperson.
"Uh, yeah, I am looking for...uh, guitar picks?" Tine says, his eyes darting from the monochromatic kinds that Sarawat usually uses to the more eye-catching colourful ones.
“What kind?” she asks.
“Uh,” Tine grimaces, wondering if Sarawat ever talked to him about the kinds of guitar picks. "The normal kind?"
The salesperson chuckles. "I see that you're not buying it for yourself," she observed. "What kind of guitar does this person play?"
"My...uh, well, he plays the acoustic guitar," Tine says. "And the electric guitar as well. He is a professional musician, so I don’t know if this makes a difference but, yeah."
"Oh, alright," she says. "That helps, thank you! Do you know what his picks usually look like? Or feel like?"
She holds out of a bunch of guitar picks that Tine can't even remember seeing, ever. He resorts to rubbing his hand on the back of his neck. “I don’t,” Tine says. “I just— we live together as well, right? He always complains that I somehow manage to lose all his picks while cleaning when I’m sure that he is the one actually losing them. I may have only lost them twice. So, I dunno, I guess it would make sense to buy them for him.”
“Ah, my girlfriend is the same,” she nods, a small smile on her lips. “Well, it is really thoughtful of you to buy him guitar picks for Valentine’s Day. I am sure that he will appreciate the gesture. Why don’t you choose some for him from these and I can get you a pick holder as well?”
Fifteen minutes, some pastel-coloured guitar picks, a guitar pick storage box, and a leather bound pocket-sized diary (Sarawat often wrote some lyrics that came to him on tissue papers. A diary would mean that they no longer would need to decipher illegible, half crumpled handwriting at 3 am) later, (all packed and presented from a different counter, since Tine didn’t want Sarawat to know), Tine finds him gazing fondly at a large, gift-wrapped package.
“What’s this?” Tine asks, sneaking behind Sarawat, hoping that he’d jump too.
Sarawat merely raises his eyebrow and turns to face Tine. “For you,” he says, handing him the package.
On the package, Sarawat has written in scrawly, large handwriting:
“To my ValenTINE <3”
Tine’s heart soars in his chest. “Is this… is this what I think it is? Wat, if it really is the Clean Vinyl, then you’re going to have to take responsibility for my tears.”
Sarawat nods, and it takes everything in Tine’s power to not leap over at him.
“Wat!” Tine exclaims, blinking away the tears that threaten to fall freely. “Oh my god, how did you manage to do this?”
Sarawat just shrugs in reply, smiling ear-to-ear. “I have my ways,” he says.
"You have your ways? Wat! Oh my god, oh my god," Tine blabs to a point of incoherency. "How did you— how did you know where to find it? It couldn't have been easy! What the fuck?"
Sarawat shakes his head, a small smile still gracing his lips. "This doesn't even scratch the surface of what I'd do for you," he says, coming closer. He pats Tine on his head, just the way he likes, and says with utmost sincerity, "I'd do anything to make you smile like this."
I love you, Tine almost says, clutching the vinyl close to him. “This is for you,” Tine whispers, instead, handing him his wrapped package. On the package, Tine has written in tiny, neat handwriting:
“From your ValenTINE!!”
***
(Oh, Tine thinks, crushing the rose-tinted glasses under his feet and finding that Sarawat looks at him all the same. Oh no.)
(The Vinyl comes with a tote bag that says: I [heart] you more than this vinyl.
The guitar pick storage box has "I will always pick you," engraved on it.)
***
Tine (18:35)
Guys…
Tine (18:40)
...i think that what I feel for him might not be entirely hopeless.
Maybe he likes me too?
***
"This was great," Tine says when he can spot the restaurant that they're supposed to meet the others at. He can't look at Sarawat, afraid that a mere look will make him lay his soul bare.
"Yeah?" Tine hears Sarawat ask.
"Yeah," Tine says, wishing all his days could be like this — spent in the warmth of Sarawat. "We should do this every year," Tine says when he really means I love you.
"I don't know, Tine," Sarawat says, "I hope to not be single next year," he says, in breezy certainty.
It takes a moment for Sarawat to realise that Tine has stopped walking, rooted in the concrete underneath him, that feels more and more like a water bed.
"Tine?" Sarawat calls, walking towards him.
"I hope that you're not single too," Tine says because he loves Sarawat a little too much. “I hope that I am not too.”
“Oh?” Sarawat asks, looking less unsure by the minute. “Someone caught your eye, Tine?”
"You seem to really love your guy," Tine says, not answering Sarawat’s original question, because Tine has to know, has to hear it out loud.
Sarawat's gaze turns sharp. "I do," he says, and his gentle fingertips trace Tine's knuckles. "I love him so much," he says with utmost sincerity.
Tine's fist unclenches, just a little. "He is so lucky," Tine emphasises for the second time today, meeting his eyes. It's like looking into the sun. "Being loved by you, of all people. He is truly the luckiest."
"I don't know about that," Sarawat says again, his thumb tracing his fingers before gently pulling them apart. Tine looks at their hands in awe. "I am the lucky one. I've gotten the opportunity to love him, after all."
Tine looks up and sees Sarawat smiling softly, where he pulls Tine's fingers. "Tell me about him," Tine says, despite his tongue feeling like cotton in his mouth.
Sarawat's smile widens looking entirely enamoured. "He is kind," Sarawat says. "I think I'd fallen in love with his smile first before I found out just how brilliant he really was. I can't help but smile whenever I look at him."
"You really love him," Tine says, hoping that he does not sound bitter because that's not who he is. He wants to be happy for Sarawat, he truly does.
This causes Sarawat to laugh, just a little. Tine realises then that Sarawat is tracing little hearts on the back of his hand.
"I love him so much. I've never met someone who listens to music the way he does. He has this ever-present glow about him. Everyone who meets him ends up loving him. I can't stop thinking about him, ever since he stumbled into my life, that day of the Scrubb concert."
"Oh."
Sarawat looks up, his smile widening even more. He slips his hands in Tine's hands, tugging him closer.
"He sounds amazing," Tine somehow manages to find the words to croak out.
"He is the best," Sarawat insists, pressing their hands together.
"Do you think he likes you too?" Tine asks, as though it's possible to not love Sarawat.
"I hope so."
"Have you tried telling him that you like him?"
"I have," Sarawat nods, looking at him pointedly. "Multiple times. But sometimes, he acts completely clueless."
“Maybe he thought that he was projecting his feelings and looking at what he wanted to rather than what it really was,” Tine blabbers. “Being loved by you in a way he very much wanted seems quite unimaginable to him. And maybe… maybe he's just scared."
"Of what?"
"Maybe he loves you a little too much. Maybe he's scared of losing you, which is why he can't even let himself hope."
"But Tine, when will y— he realise that having me isn't losing me?" Sarawat asks.
"Maybe, that's what he's been accustomed to, all this while. Losing the people once he gets together with them," Tine says, in a small voice, his heart soaring, oblivious to his mind's feeble arguments.
"Doesn't he feel different when he's with me, though?"
"He does and that is what's scarier. He can't bear to lose you, Wat."
“I will wait for him until he is less scared, then,” Sarawat replies with absolute certainty. “As long as it takes for him to come around.”
“He doesn’t want you doing that,” Tine replies, incredibly touched.
Sarawat threads their fingers together. "So how can I make him believe that he won't lose me?"
Tine takes a tiny step towards him. "He's just going to have to suck it up, I think."
"Yeah?"
At Tine's nod, he whispers, "I hope so. I love him so much, Tine."
"He loves you so much too, Wat," Tine whispers, pushing their foreheads together.
Sarawat squeezes their hands together. "He taught me how to love," he whispers with his eyes clenched shut.
"You make him feel at home," Tine whispers, those words safe in the moment between them.
"Wat, are you serious though? Do you really love—" Tine starts to say, before a too-enthusiastic, "Tine!" from beside them separates them.
Their hands don't leave each other, miraculously, as they turn towards Fong who looks pretty frozen on spot.
"Tine! Earn was— oh. Oh!" Ohm exclaims, pointing at their held hands. "Fucking finally!"
"Shut up," Fong hisses, elbowing Ohm's stomach. "We're just going to go, okay? Don't mind us!"
"No, no," Sarawat sighs, looking at Tine. A look that Tine recognises all too well. The moment was beautiful and now it has passed. "Let's all go together."
***
Tine barely takes in the pink glow of the restaurant before he is pulled by Phuak from his right and Sarawat is pulled by Boss from the front.
"What happened?" Phuak hisses, before noticing the huge bag hanging off of Tine's shoulders.
"What do you think?" Tine asks, defeated, trying to find Sarawat in the sea of people.
"What do you mean?" Phuak asks.
"Well, they were probably having a— well, a discussion," Ohm winces. "And we might have interrupted it," Fong adds on.
Phuak's groans fade away into the mist when Sarawat's eyes find his own. He seems to be in a similar position as Tine, surrounded by the Man and Boss yelling into the void.
Tine shrugs in response to Sarawat’s very apparent question; he too doesn’t know when they can talk without it feeling like the world is weighing heavily on them.
Sarawat’s face twists into a wistful expression and Tine just— he wants. Wants to know if he heard it right, wants to hold Sarawat until the tangible proof of what he said (what he’d been saying; Sarawat loves him! He! Loves! Him!), wants to say those words he’d never been strong enough to say out loud to him until their world echoes with those words only.
“What’s going on?” Pear asks, her voice breaking Tine’s eye-contact with Sarawat.
Pear holds a giant teddy bear in her hand, the teddy bear itself holding a bunch of felt red roses. Tine almost coos in reply. “Earn got this for you?”
Pear blushes deeper than the pink of the teddy bear. “She did,” she sighs, looking at the raised platform where Earn will probably come out of to host the Valentines’ event.
“How was your day?” Tine asks, separating from his friends that just look a tad bit frustrated.
“Perfect,” Pear smiles. “How was yours?”
Unrestrained laughter tumbles out of his mouth. “Perfect, too,” he says, turning around to look at Sarawat. “Just perfect,” he sighs.
"Perfect, my ass," Ohm says. "They were celebrating a Singles' Valentine's Day, need I remind everyone. They ended up doing that!"
"That?" Pear questions. "What do you mean?"
“They were probably confessing their everlasting love for each other when these two interrupted,” Phuak interrupts, pointing a thumb at Ohm and Fong who barely look sheepish.
Pear, on the other hand, looks slightly alarmed. “Oh, Tine,” she mutters, before noticing the giant tote bag. “Did he—”
“Yeah,” Tine says, “yeah, he did.”
“Oh, Tine,” Pear gasps.
Before Tine can assure that he is okay, really okay, alright, perfectly peachy, definitely not losing it, the lights dim. Their scattered group hurriedly finds the table that they were supposed to sit at. Inexplicably, Sarawat ends up beside Tine.
"Good Evening, everyone!" Earn's cheery voice echoes throughout the restaurant. “Welcome to Valentine’s Evening ‘21. I am your host, Earn, and I hope that you’re all well and comfortable right where you are, either in the arms of someone you love or in their hearts.”
Tine’s hands find Sarawat’s underneath their table.
“As your host, I am going to start off the open mic’s event by singing a song to my dear girlfriend who sits somewhere in the audience.”
Pear, from beside him, whoops in response.
On stage, Earn laughs in response. “That’s her!” she says. “After that, all the rules of a regular open mic will apply. If you wish to sing next, you’re going to have to text on the number given on the posters everywhere, which will then give you the order of your performance. If you have any doubts, you can always find me. And remember, everyone. This is a perfect opportunity to confess your undying love for someone you’ve been in love with forever. So please do participate!”
“I’ve to go,” Sarawat whispers in Tine’s ears. “Stay here, won’t you?”
“Huh? Wat?”
Sarawat leans in and presses a quick kiss on his cheek. “I’ll be back,” he says, and disappears into the crowd.
Tine can only blink at Sarawat’s abrupt disappearance. He turns to his left, to catch a sight of Man and Boss who look pretty smug when they wink -- simultaneously -- at Tine’s befuddled look.
The crowd erupts in applause when Earn starts with the opening notes of ‘Cha Rak Hai Dee Tee Sood’ and Tine tries paying attention to the words and the tune and everything that happens between Earn singing and Sarawat getting on stage, but all he can think of are the entirely wild thirty minutes of his life, when everything he’d known, changed completely, for the second time today.
Tine thinks that his heart would screech to a halt when he unsurprisingly sees Sarawat all decked up on stage, looking as ethereal as ever, instead, his heart only screeches, as Sarawat begins addressing the crowd.
“This is for a certain someone,” Sarawat says, his face reflecting the myriad of colours from the lights that surround him. “I promised myself that I’d sing this for you if I ever had the courage to tell you how much you mean to me. I found the courage, but never quite sang this for you. Here’s hoping that my words and my feelings reach to you, safely. I love you,” Sarawat says, with a small smile.
Tine’s heart lurches in his chest. “I love you,” he mouths along, knowing full well that Sarawat can’t see him.
Sarawat smiles like he does, anyway. In the warmth of Sarawat singing Roy Yim, Tine feels at home.
***
“So… we may have been idiots,” Tine mutters.
They’re both sitting outside the restaurant on a forlorn bench, away from the prying eyes (and ears) of their friends.
Sarawat snorts. "That's an understatement," he says, looking intently at Tine.
Tine wants to look away; this sort of vulnerability never did come easy to him, especially not in relation to all of how Sarawat is with him. He keeps looking at him, regardless.
Sarawat edges in closer, charily running his hand through Tine's hair.
"I love you."
Tine feels terrified at the words that tumble out of his mouth, running to latch onto Sarawat as though they always belonged with him.
Sarawat's hand ceases to move. Tine shifts in closer, his fingers trailing towards Sarawat's other hand.
"I love you," Tine says again because he needs to feel those words come alive in the space shared between them.
Sarawat's hand drops to rest on the back of his neck, the other holding Tine's hand in resolution.
"I love you," Sarawat says just as simply.
Tine's breath catches in his throat. “You do,” Tine says, allowing the words to replay in his mind, over and over.
“I love you,” Sarawat says again. “I can’t believe that you love me too.”
“I can’t either,” Tine says, afraid to even pinch himself in case this was a dream.
“You’re kidding me, right? I tried saying it, so many times.”
“I thought that I was hearing what I wanted to hear,” Tine says. “Hence the whole…”
“Singles’ Valentine’s?” Sarawat’s snicker sounds feeble.
“I was waiting for you to deny it,” Tine mutters, angling his body towards him.
Sarawat smiles disparagingly, following suit. “I thought that being with me was unimaginable, for you.”
“It was,” Tine says, “but not in the way you think it was. You were so close, always within an arm’s reach, but so far. You being in love with me was unimaginable.”
“I have been enamoured by you ever since I saw you,” Sarawat says, holding Tine’s knuckles to his mouth. “There could never be anyone other than you, you know?”
“There could not be anyone other than you for me too," Tine replies, looping his arms around Sarawat's neck. "I still can't believe this, though."
Sarawat pecks his nose. "How about I make you believe it?"
"Oh?" Tine cocks his eyebrow, bringing Sarawat's face closer to him. "How do you plan on doing that?"
Sarawat's eyes dance in the flickering fairy lights above them.
Warm lips meet his. Fireworks burst in the distance, somewhere, probably. Tine is only half convinced that it isn’t in his heart.
“I love you,” Tine sighs, between kisses.
Sarawat’s eyes are bright, crinkling around the corners. He kisses Tine’s forehead. “I love you,” he says.
Tine, unbelievably fond, posolutely in love, can only kiss him again.