When caffeine, notes, and accidental glances stir more than just equations.
The morning after the festival, Fah found himself dragging his bag through the crowded campus courtyard, hoping to survive a stack of lectures without tripping over his own feet—or over Tawan.
Of course, luck wasn't on his side.
Tawan was already at the engineering lab, leaning against a desk, a mug of coffee in one hand and a notebook in the other, looking impossibly composed.
"Late," Tawan said casually, eyes narrowing with mock disapproval.
"Traffic," Fah muttered, though he knew Tawan wasn't buying it. "And don't look so smug."
Tawan smirked, walking past him to grab a chair. "I'll let it slide this time. You owe me for yesterday's festival humiliation, though."
Fah groaned, setting up his laptop. "I did not get humiliated. It was… tactical defeat."
"Sure," Tawan said, raising an eyebrow. "Tactical."
They spent the morning side by side, textbooks open, pens scratching, sometimes brushing hands over papers. Every so often, Tawan would glance at Fah with that teasing smirk, and Fah would feel heat crawl up his neck.
Midway through their session, a classmate—someone from the med school Tawan often collaborated with—popped by to borrow a notebook. Tawan greeted them warmly, and the casual ease between them made Fah stiffen.
"Uh… you know them?" Fah asked, trying to keep his tone casual.
Tawan looked at him, expression softening slightly. "Yeah, just a project last semester. Why?"
Fah shook his head, forcing a laugh. "Nothing… just checking my assumptions."
Tawan tilted his head, clearly noticing Fah's subtle tension, but didn't push further. Instead, he nudged Fah lightly with his elbow. "You're adorable when you're defensive," he whispered, smirk playing on his lips.
Fah blinked, flustered. "I'm not—"
"Shh," Tawan interrupted, leaning closer to brush a stray strand of hair from Fah's forehead. "Just focus. We have notes to finish."
The rest of the afternoon passed in a flurry of work and quiet, punctuated by small touches: hands brushing over pages, shoulders bumping accidentally, shared coffee sips, and soft laughter at inside jokes only they seemed to get.
By the time they packed up, Fah realized something important. The minor pangs of jealousy, the teasing, and the accidental closeness weren't annoyances—they were part of the thrill. The reason his heart kept racing wasn't just Tawan's charm—it was them, together, navigating life in their chaotic, perfect rhythm.
Tawan stood, grabbing his bag. "Same time tomorrow?" he asked, voice teasing but earnest.
Fah smiled, a little breathless. "Absolutely. But next time… I win at ring toss."
Tawan laughed, looping his arm with Fah's as they walked out of the lab. "We'll see about that."