The lecture ended, and Fah practically threw his notes into his bag, ready to bolt. But before he could escape, Tawan's hand shot out, fingers wrapping around his wrist.
"Wait," Tawan said, his voice low, smooth—so different from the sharp edge he usually wielded.
Fah froze. The warmth of Tawan's grip sent a jolt up his arm. He looked down, then up, straight into those dark, unreadable eyes.
"What?" Fah snapped, though the word came out more breathless than he intended.
Tawan's smirk was gone, replaced by something harder to pin down. "You're always in such a rush. Sit with me for a minute."
Fah blinked. "Why would I—"
"Because," Tawan interrupted, tugging him gently toward the empty back row, "you owe me. Coffee. Uniform. Public humiliation. Pick one."
Against every ounce of logic in his engineering brain, Fah let himself be pulled. They sat, the lecture hall emptying around them until it was just the two of them in the heavy silence.
Tawan studied him for a moment, eyes sharp but softer now, as if he were dissecting not just his face, but the tension coiled beneath it. Then, suddenly, he leaned in closer—close enough that Fah could feel the ghost of his breath against his cheek.
"Why do you always look at me like you hate me?" Tawan asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Fah's heart thudded painfully. He swallowed hard, forcing a laugh. "Because you're arrogant. Because you—" He stopped, words tangling. Because you're distracting. Because you make my chest tight. Because I don't know what to do when you're near.
Tawan tilted his head, studying him like a puzzle. And then, without warning, he closed the distance.
The kiss was quick, almost testing, but it was enough to shatter every neat, orderly law Fah thought governed his life.
When Tawan pulled back, his smirk returned—but it wasn't cruel this time. It was softer, almost playful. "Guess that answers my question."
Fah sat there, stunned, heat rushing to his ears. He should push Tawan away. He should say something scathing. He should run.
But all he could do was whisper, "You're impossible."
Tawan chuckled, brushing a thumb along Fah's jaw in a gesture far too gentle for the arrogant med student he thought he knew. "And yet, you didn't pull away."
Fah had no reply—only the dizzying realization that the rivalry he thought fueled his hate was already something else entirely.