When unspoken doubts finally find their answers.
Fah was unable to concentrate on anything the following day. His circuits fuzzed over, his notes looked more like doodles, and with every smile Tawan gave him, a knot would form in his chest. He couldn't help but recall that statement: I don't really have time for relationships.
By evening, Tawan was aware of it.
They were tucked away in their usual study corner at the library, the hum of air-conditioning filling the silence. Tawan closed his book with a soft thud and fixed Fah with a look that made escape impossible.
"Alright," Tawan said, leaning forward. "What's going on with you? You've been off all day."
Fah shifted uncomfortably. "Nothing. I'm just… tired."
"Liar," Tawan replied smoothly, but not unkindly. "Tell me."
Fah hesitated, biting his lip. "Yesterday… lunchtime. You said you don't have time for relationships."
Tawan blinked, a slow smile creeping across his face. "Ah. So this is about that."
Fah scowled. "You don't have to—"
"Let me tell you," Tawan interrupted quietly. He settled back, voice quieter. "I said that because that's what everybody expects from me. Med school, research, internships—people assume I don't have time for anything else. It's easier just to let them think that."
Fah's chest tightened. "So you didn't mean it?"
Tawan shook his head, eyes locking with Fah's. "No. If I didn't really have time, I wouldn't be here with you every day, would I?"
Fah's mouth dropped, his cheeks reddening. "You… you're serious?"
"As serious as an engineer designing robots at 2 a.m.," Tawan joked, scooting over the table to grab Fah's hand. His touch was warm, solid. "Fah, I make time for what matters. And right now, that's you."
A lurch in Fah's heart, then the beat smoothed out, a wave of relief washing over him. The band around his chest eased, shifted to something more stable, lighter.
"You're…" Fah grumbled, though a smile crept at his mouth.
"And you adore it," Tawan echoed, his grin sly, but the brush of his thumb against Fah's knuckles betrayed the gentleness behind the mocking.
Fah relaxed, laughing. "Maybe I do."
They crept closer, the quiet of the library closing around them like a confidential whisper. For one brief instant, the world had narrowed to the two of them—forgottens books, fears discarded, only the unspoken promise of something true between them.
"Good," Tawan whispered, his sneer softening. "Because I'm not letting you go."
And for once, Fah didn't argue.