When noodles aren't enough, chaos and charm make the perfect recipe.
Saturday arrived bright and clear, the kind of Bangkok morning that practically begged for adventure. Fah had spent the better part of the morning pacing in his apartment, wondering if he was overthinking everything. He wasn't. He was just… excited.
Tawan arrived right on time, casually stylish and looking effortlessly perfect. Fah tried not to stare, but the dark eyes and easy smile made his stomach flutter in a way he couldn't control.
"Ready?" Tawan asked, holding out his hand.
Fah grinned, taking it without hesitation. "Born ready."
They started their date at a quirky little cafe tucked between a bookstore and a flower shop, chosen by Fah for its charm and lack of pretension. The air smelled of coffee and fresh pastries, and the soft background music made the space feel cozy.
"Alright, engineer," Tawan said, sliding into the booth across from Fah. "What's the plan?"
Fah pulled out a small, hand-drawn map he had made the night before. "Step one: caffeine. Step two: dessert. Step three: wander aimlessly through the streets and see what we find. Step four: attempt to beat each other at mini-golf. Step five: sunset by the river."
Tawan raised an eyebrow. "You planned all this?"
Fah shrugged, cheeks warm. "I like being organized. Don't let it fool you—I can also be spontaneous."
By the time they ordered coffee and pastries, Tawan was leaning across the table, stealing bites of Fah's croissant and laughing at his fake protests. "You really do spoil me," Tawan teased, brushing crumbs off Fah's shirt with the lightest touch.
Fah's chest tightened. "Good," he said simply. "Maybe I like it when you're spoiled."
The afternoon passed in a blur of playful competition and laughter. They wandered through little alleys, poked at street stalls, and even tried (and failed) at a mini-golf challenge, each teasing the other mercilessly when someone missed a shot.
Then came the mishap.
While crossing a small bridge to get to the river, Tawan tripped over an uneven stone, sending both of them stumbling—right into a puddle. Fah erupted into laughter, water splashing everywhere, soaking both of them.
Tawan groaned, glaring at him—but even through the annoyance, his smirk remained. "You planned this, didn't you?"
Fah held up his hands, still laughing. "I swear… this one's pure coincidence!"
Tawan shook his head, laughing despite himself, and grabbed Fah's arm to steady him. "You're impossible."
"And yet," Fah said, voice low, close enough that Tawan could feel it, "you still came on this date."
Tawan's dark eyes softened, his smirk turning into a gentle smile. "Yeah," he admitted. "Because I kind of like impossible."
As the sun dipped low over the Chao Phraya River, casting gold and pink across the water, Fah realized something important: love didn't need to be perfect. It could be messy, chaotic, full of splashes and spills—and that was exactly how he liked it.
Tawan slipped his hand into Fah's as they leaned against the railing, the city glowing around them, and for the first time, Fah didn't feel the need to analyze or plan. He just let himself be here—completely, perfectly, undeniably.
And that night, on the riverbank, Bangkok had never felt more alive—or more like theirs.