TW: Mature warning for suicide attempt

After finishing his reading and even getting ahead in the class, Matthew spent his whole day at campus doing various activities. He ate a late lunch around 4 in the afternoon and grabbed some tea at the University’s coffee and tea shop. In the hours since his arrival, the beautiful tranquil skies morphed into ominous clouds. Even when the sun finally swopped into the earth, you couldn’t see the stars anywhere. 

Mat was wandering around the area outside of the college, enjoying the smell of the heavy air. I love the smell before and after it rains. It was getting late when he was on the bridge close to his apartment. It was one of the routes to his place, though it was usually pretty crowded, tonight it was vacant. It was just as ominous as the sky.

He had headphones, jamming to his music. He had long forgotten the conversation with George. He was used to those reactions of homophobia. The only confusing part to Mat was the possibility that he was the one that wrote the letter. Even if George was a closested gay, why did he showcase his affections right in front of him? It was an odd thing to do but he tried to shrug it off.

Don’t get involved. You need to focus on your education.

Fate was a cruel joke.

The 29 year old 's eyes focused straight ahead and quickly glossed over in a sudden rush of shock. The color in his face drained and his throat dried up like a raisin. He saw a person about to jump off the bridge and into the river. His body reacted before his brain could fully process what was happening.

Mat bolted towards the figure and pulled them off and found out the person is young, probably around 22/23 and is absolutely wasted. The stranger reeks of booze and has absolutely no balance. He can’t make out his features only that he’s white and has dark colored hair. It’s shielding his face.The guy starts to get angry and tries to wobble his way out of Mat’s grasp. He shaikly asks him, “why did you stop me from jumping?” The stranger’s voice was hoarse.

Mat’s heart breaks at such a question. He says, “you’re so young. And I bet there’s people who love you and would miss you.” 

 There’s a brief moment of silence while a crack of thunder crosses the sky. “I can’t love myself as I am, so why bother.” The mystery man begins to sob into Mat’s shoulder. 

“Do you have someone I can call to come get you?” He spoke softly into the man's ear while rubbing his back sympathetically.

Wow, this guy oddly reminds me of myself. His heart continued to feel a sharp twist.

He choked out, “please don’t call them. Please I can’t. I just can’t.” He began to sob harder. 

“Okay ok ok. Well, did you want to stay here a while? We can have a seat here and just chat.” His 29 years of life had brought him many helpful tools, including thoughtful negotiations.

There was nothing but the pitter patter sound of rain beginning to twinkle down on them as if some sign from god that they hated them. 

“I’m cold.” The stranger sniffled, ignoring Mat’s offer. 

Why did it have to come to this? I hate that I’m going to have to take this guy to my apartment now, but I can’t just leave him here.

“Hey let’s go.” He patted him on his shoulder and began to pull away. 

He quickly grabbed Mat back into the embrace. “Don’t go!” The stranger wailed loudly. The rain picked up with intensity. 

Great. Nothing like a complete stranger begging you not to go while getting poured on. He internally groaned in annoyance. Despite his sympathy, he didn’t enjoy getting rained on.

“Buddy, it’s cold and wet, we need to get shelter.” Mat had to raise his voice to be heard over the rain. “I’ll help you get there.” 

The grip the strange man had on Mat loosened and he wobbled away to give each other more space. It was very dark with minimal street lamps to illuminate the path back to Mat’s apartment. 

For the first time Mat could see into the man’s eyes, well one eye. The other was covered by his dark locks. It was bloodshot and glossed over both from crying and the alcohol. His blue eye was like a pool of uncertainty. It screamed out to him, ‘help me.’ The taller male frowned at looking at the disheveled stranger. 

Clearly his throat, Mat suggested they start moving. This man was so intoxicated that he could barely walk. He ended up having to practically carry him to his apartment. 

Damn he’s so heavy. Why did I stop working out ?! 

The walk was greeted with silence, aside from the heaving rain. It wouldn’t take them long to arrive. Thankfully Mat lived on the first floor so he didn’t need to carry a fully grown man up any flights of stairs.

Once he fumbled to grab his keys, they finally arrived. Now came the fun part—getting out of these wet clothes.

Good lord this is great. This is how every BL encounter goes. He mentally face palmed himself, flicking the lights on. He’s going to wake up and think I did something while he was drunk and I’ll be the bad guy yet again! 

“Where are we?” The stranger slurred, taking off his sopping wet shoes at the entrance.

“We’re at my apartment. You didn’t want your friends to see you remember?” 

“Oh.” It was a quiet one word answer that ended the conversation. Mat guided him towards the kitchen and gave him a chair that wouldn’t get ruined to sit on. 

“Here.” He gestured to the chair, “sit here and I’ll get you some dry clothes, okay?” He complied and silently waited. He looked oddly relaxed despite being in a stranger's place. 

I can’t believe I brought him to my place. This is insane. But what was I to do?? I couldn’t leave a suicidal drunk person out there. I’m not that kind of person and I feel like we’ve all been there at some point in our lives.

He grumbled under his breath while digging through his drawers for a shirt and sweatpants. 

I’ll change after I get him to sleep. 

Shortly after gathering it all, he headed back to find the same stranger on the floor next to the chair. He rushed hastily over to see what had happened; thinking he possibly tried something else to relieve the agony. 

Once Mat approached, he noticed a mess on the floor—the stranger had thrown up on the tiled floors. He was also crying again. 

The stranger noticed Mat and looked at him with tear filled eyes. “I-I’m sorry. He hiccuped while continuing to weep into the mess. He kept whispering under his breath that he was sorry. His dark hair cupped his features. It stuck to his cheeks and his forehead.

Mat’s deep brown eyes softened at the stranger. His heart ached at the scene. He found himself kneeling next to him on the floor and patting his back. The sudden physical contact made the stranger freeze up. 

“It’s okay.” He shushed him in a low grumble that made it sound soothing. “It’s alright. Let’s get you cleaned up, okay?” Mat had many personal experiences with this. Some involved just himself and his friends, but it was never this sad.