After that day, Hasith never came in front of Hirunya again. He used to see him back then, standing at the corner of the pavilion with a couple of books in his hand, watching something during her sports practices. But he never paid much attention to it. Now, that place stood empty. Even inside the university, the moment Hasith saw him, he would turn the other way.
At first, Hirunya didn't notice this change, but gradually, he began to feel that something was missing.
Hirunya was never the type to talk much with anyone except her best friend, Thirun.
Given how Hirunya had grown up, it wasn't surprising. Still, the way Hasith avoided him began to bother him. The boy who used to always be nearby during every free time was now nowhere to be seen. To his eyes, his absence felt strange.
He resented the emptiness he felt in his heart. He scolded himself, warning not to think this way just because he had talked to him once. Especially not about a boy. After all, once his studies ended, he'd be sent off to marry some aristocratic woman his family found. Hirunya hated the fact that he was born into a walawwa (manor house).
He had been raised among strict rules and traditions. The only comfort he had in that walawwa came from his mother and Kandula, the elephant that was the heirloom of the Walawwa. When he was around 17, his mother left him forever due to cancer. After that, Hirunya didn't want to let anyone too close. He feared everyone who came into his life would leave him too.
From the day he entered campus, he had noticed those two coffee-colored eyes following him—not that he ever acknowledged it. He ignored them like he did everything else—his appearance, his wealth, the girls who chased him. While others filled the unofficially reserved table for him in the cafeteria with gifts and snacks, it was that little daisy flower that caught his heart.
He gave away all the gifts to people who couldn't afford lunch—except the daisy flower. That alone stayed in his hand.
Out of curiosity, he once waited near the hall by the cafeteria until the owner of the daisy showed up. When the hoodie-clad figure came running, and he saw those eyes—those same coffee-colored eyes—Hirunya was left speechless.
He didn't know why, but he liked that little gesture.
But now, the owner of those eyes had started avoiding him, and even the daisy flower had stopped appearing.
Some time passed like that, until Hirunya realized something was off—right after seeing Hasith at the gym. He hadn't been there for a few days due to work, but once he got a break, he decided to return and continue the workout sessions he had paused.
Since the beginning, Hirunya had been a popular figure at the gym, so many people knew him. As usual, he changed and warmed up, heading first to the treadmill machines. His usual machine was occupied, but something about the guy there felt familiar. He stayed a moment, watching.
And then he realized—it was him. The owner of those coffee-colored eyes. Hasith's shirt was drenched in sweat—clearly, he'd been working out for a while. Hirunya leaned against a nearby bar, watching him.
Hasith had the kind of body that made him the cute and sexy type—especially for a guy. Those coffee eyes, the soft pink lips forming a boxy smile, the sharp jawline, the prominent collarbones, the Adam's apple that stood out as he gulped water, the sweat trickling down his neck, the flat tummy in perfect shape… it was at that moment Hirunya realized how long he had stared.
His ears turned red, and he looked up at the ceiling, not knowing what he would think of him now.
Hasith stopped the machine, grabbed his water bottle, and headed toward the dumbbells. At first, he reached for heavier weights, but possibly from exhaustion, he stumbled a bit. He closed his eyes, bracing for impact—but nothing happened.
When he opened them, he saw a pair of arms around his waist.
"I'd say boys like you—pretty little dolls—don't belong in the gym. You belong in arms like these."