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At the ass crack of dawn, FitMC was awake. It became normal to rise early and make himself some honey tea. He enjoyed the calm that surrounded him whenever he made it, he found himself making it ever since Ramón was gone.
Before he saw no reason to treat himself to a drink in the mornings, quick to get out of bed and see the day. But with his son no longer here, he'd take a slower approach, he'd still visit his son's home after though; not wanting to break routine. Hoping that one day when he'd walk into it and there'd be sitting Ramón on his bed, ready to hug him.
He was never one to reflect on things, why would he? Most of his life focused on survival, not being sentimental. As months passed by living here, he could find himself cherishing things. The gifts given him became special, the photos he took became memories he wanted to remember. All the little things, they became a part of him. They were stuff he started to look forward to, the laughs of friends, the shenanigans he'd end up in. They all meant something to him, and he wanted to keep it close to his heart.
The past few days had been good, despite the glaring issues surrounding everything. He had Pac to thank that for, something about the man would bring the best in Fit. He'd become fascinated by him, as if the other was some kind alluring creature.
He's not sure when it started, at first he'd just been looking for company whenever Ramón had slept in late. Then it turned to becoming friends with both Pac and Mike, then it turned into a deep understanding. When Pac had been missing, he'd spent his time with Richas and Mike. He'd look for clues, help with the mysteries, anything to find him. During that time he'd become close with Mike. He understood why the two were inseparable, why they cared so much for one another.
And when Mike had disappeared, then shortly after the kids, there was Pac, alone and hurt. He'd seen him spiral, the worst version of himself, smiling as if there was no pain, high on the happy pills. Oh it pained his heart to see him like that, feeling hopeless, not sure what to do to help him. He still believed, he still gave him words of support, meaning every word he said.
When Pac broke out of the spell of the pills, he felt proud, he felt relief. As the days passed by after, he'd subtly check on him, a few glaces, a few questions. After a while he'd seem better, more of himself, and then one day, Mike had come back. Pac was ecstatic, his best friend was back, his other half was back.
But there was something off, Mike seemed different, his eyes became hateful towards Fit. He glared at him, he bared his teeth at him, and then, did the worst thing, threatened his son's life.
It was when Pac voided, Mike had looked at him and said it, catching him off guard. Then and there a fire started to light inside of him, one of anger. He kept himself calm, despite being quick to jump at a fight, he decided to go for questioning. He wasn't about to kill or hurt Mike, he was a man he respected after all. For a moment he'd hope it was a simple cruel fluke, but Mike doubled down again, solidifying Fit's worry.
Pac had appeared, stopping whatever Fit had planned to do. He'd quickly tell him about what Mike said, surprising the shorter man. Of course Mike would deny it, of course Mike would speak in his mother tongue so Fit wouldn't understand. Speaking whatever whispers to his best friend, presumably lies. But Fit wouldn't start a fight, he wouldn't kill the man where he stood, even if the fire inside him screamed to do so.
They'd then find others, they'd explain the situation and Mike would deny and deny. A moment would come, where he had the chance to release the anger inside him. He took it, he'd beat the shit of Mike, and it felt good. He knew it was wrong, he knew that it didn't reflect his true feelings about him, but it helped. Shortly after, high on kelp cocaine, would Mike fall into a coma, leaving Pac alone again.
Things were okay, as okay as it could be, the days would go by, more information would be collected. But one day, another tragedy had struck, the president was gone, having left into the nether to find the kids. Fit never could grapple the self-sacrificing the Brazilians had done many times before for the sake of their family.
When Pac first heard, it ruined him, his family was broken, again. It hurt Fit to see him like that, he wanted to help comfort him but he wasn't sure how. He didn't want to overstep a boundary, he didn't want to pry, only doing what he usually did. It seemed to work a bit, although he'd wish he could do more, but he'd eventually leave Pac alone and let him come to terms with it.
The next day, he was better, of course still worried, but something or someone else had put Pac's mind more at ease. It relieved him, he wouldn't admit it but he was worried that his friend would break again.
Back to the present, Fit was staring out the window, finishing his tea. He had spent the whole day yesterday with Pac, setting up Halloween decorations. His heart felt full, it began to beat quickly as he reminisced through the moments they shared together. The skin on his arms felt odd, as if the presence of the hug they shared still lingered.
"Do you trust me?"
"Yes."
It was over such a simple thing, Pac had stolen the qsmp logo, and he wanted to make sure the bald man wouldn't snitch on him. The shorter man wouldn't understand the weight of that answer. What it meant for Fit to put his trust into a person, to not hesitate at all when saying it. There were only two people he trusted on this level, Ramón and Phil, both for different reasons.
Despite having such strong trust in Pac, a part of him was afraid to show more of himself. To slowly unravel and reveal what his first true intentions were on the island. It was something that even Phil didn't know, the only person who knew was his son. That in even of itself was difficult to tell, Fit didn't want to know what would have happened if Ramón didn't accept him. He was lucky that had a son that loved him, to worry for him, to understand him.
Fit had joked earlier that he'd support all Pac's rights and wrongs, the latter saying the same about him. It was a joke though, wasn't it? Pac wouldn't truly support him in whatever he did, would he mean it? Could he believe it? He wanted to.
Fit shook his head, his thoughts were starting to give him a headache. He wanted to get out and do stuff an hour ago, not debate how he felt about his friend. He wasn't sure what these feelings were exactly, even if he had an inkling of what it could be.
Baby steps, that's what he tells himself, although some moments it feels like leaps. Watching himself continue to play into the song and dance he's found himself in. He tries his best to make moves, but they're always awkward. The embarrassment of being forward takes over him, he finds never knowing what to say or do. But Pac doesn't mind, in fact he laughs, he leans into the moment.
Fit's grateful for it, he's not used to these types of things, and for what it's worth, he doesn't mind Pac's awkwardness either. In fact he finds it endearing, the way the other man tries his best to impress him.
It's time to get up now, the cup is empty, and the warmth is fading. But it's okay, he doesn't mind, tomorrow will be another day for a new cup of tea.