By the time Fah left the lecture hall, his brain was still buzzing from the kiss. Every attempt to rationalize what had just happened collapsed under the simple truth that he didn't want to rationalize it. For once, he didn't want numbers, logic, or equations—he just wanted to follow the strange, reckless tug in his chest.
So when his phone buzzed with a new message, he wasn't even surprised.
Tawan: Dinner. Tonight. Don't make me waste a good shirt.
Fah stared at the screen, a grin tugging at his lips before he could stop it. He typed back without hesitation.
Fah: Fine. But I'm choosing the place.
---
That evening, instead of some polished, high-end restaurant Tawan probably expected, Fah brought him to a small street-side noodle shop tucked under a flickering neon sign. The air smelled of garlic and chili, the metal tables sticky from years of service.
Tawan raised an eyebrow the moment they sat down. "Seriously? You bring me here? Do you know how much MSG is probably in that broth?"
"Relax, doctor," Fah shot back, unable to hide his smile. "Real food doesn't need a prescription."
To his surprise, Tawan laughed. Not the sharp, mocking laugh he usually gave, but a real one—warm, unguarded. The sound tugged at something deep inside Fah.
They ate, trading barbs between mouthfuls of noodles, but the barbs kept softening. Every time their eyes met, the edge dulled a little more, until it felt less like rivalry and more like discovery.
Halfway through the meal, Tawan set his chopsticks down and leaned forward, his gaze fixed on Fah. "You know, you're different than I thought."
Fah raised a brow. "Different how?"
"I thought you were just… clumsy. Careless. Always making a mess." Tawan's lips quirked. "But maybe you're just not afraid to throw yourself into things."
Fah's stomach twisted—not with confusion this time, but with something that felt dangerously close to joy. He leaned back in his chair, smirking. "And you're not as much of a perfectionist robot as I thought. Though don't get me wrong—you still act like one."
Tawan rolled his eyes, but there was no heat in it. "You're insufferable."
"And you kissed me anyway," Fah said lightly.
That earned him another real laugh, and this time, Tawan reached across the table, his fingers brushing Fah's in a way that made it impossible to pretend this was still just a rivalry.
For once, Fah didn't overthink it. He didn't analyze angles or calculate outcomes. He just let his heart tug him closer.
And that night, on a sticky Bangkok street corner over bowls of noodles, what began as chaos found its first fragile rhythm.