A blackout, a touch too close, and a truth too bold to hide.
The Bangkok sky opened up without warning. By late afternoon, the university campus was drowning in rain, the kind that bounced off pavements and blurred windows into watercolor smears.
Fah ducked into the library, hair plastered to his forehead, shoes squeaking against the marble floor. He thought he'd find solitude, maybe the quiet hum of the air conditioning and the smell of old books. Instead, he spotted Tawan—sitting by the window, perfectly dry, calmly annotating a stack of medical notes as though the storm outside didn't exist.
"Of course," Fah muttered, dragging out a chair opposite him. "You're everywhere."
Tawan glanced up, a faint curve tugging at his lips. "You're welcome to sit somewhere else."
But Fah didn't move. He peeled off his damp jacket, trying to ignore how smug Tawan looked in that neat white shirt, sleeves rolled to the elbows.
The rain deepened, drumming harder, until the world outside vanished into a gray wall. Then the lights flickered. Once, twice—and the library fell silent as the power cut.
Fah blinked, adjusting to the sudden gloom. Emergency lamps glowed faintly, shadows stretching long across the desks.
"Great," he said flatly.
Across from him, Tawan shut his notebook with deliberate calm. "You always this chatty during disasters?"
"Disaster implies you're involved," Fah shot back, though the corner of his mouth betrayed a smile.
Lightning cracked across the sky, followed by a deep roll of thunder. Almost instinctively, Fah stiffened. He hoped it went unnoticed, but Tawan's gaze lingered too long, too sharp.
Without asking, Tawan reached across the table, his fingers brushing Fah's before sliding into place. The gesture was so casual it made Fah's pulse stumble.
"Relax," Tawan murmured, as if it were the simplest thing in the world.
Fah exhaled slowly, forcing himself to sound steady. "You're awfully comfortable holding hands with your so-called nemesis."
"Maybe I misjudged the title," Tawan replied, his thumb brushing idly over Fah's knuckles. "Nemesis is too harsh. You're more like… an inconvenient habit I don't want to quit."
Fah barked a laugh, caught between irritation and something softer. "You have the worst way with words."
"Yet somehow," Tawan leaned forward, his voice dropping as the storm rattled the glass, "you're still here."
The kiss that followed wasn't rushed. It unfolded naturally, as though the storm outside had been waiting for it all along. Warmth bloomed in the dimness, quiet and steady, until the world shrank to the closeness of breath and the steady beat of two hearts trying not to race.
When they finally broke apart, Fah's lips tingled, his thoughts a chaotic mess. He swallowed, searching for the right thing to say.
"You're trouble," he murmured.
"And you," Tawan replied, still holding his hand, "keep choosing trouble."
Outside, thunder rolled on. Inside, neither of them seemed to care.