Chapter 4 – The Milk Tea Shop Across the Street
The milk tea shop across San Isidro University was small, narrow, and always crowded. Its faded sign flickered slightly at night, and the glass windows were usually fogged from the mixture of boiling pearls, sweet syrups, and too many bodies packed inside. It wasn't fancy. The tables were mismatched, the chairs uneven, and the menu board was smudged with fingerprints.
It was exactly the kind of place Althea loved.
She slipped inside after her last class, her shoulders aching from carrying books all day. The familiar warmth wrapped around her, along with the sugary scent of brown sugar and cream. She ordered her usual cheap wintermelon milk tea, less ice, extra pearls counting coins carefully before sliding them across the counter.
She turned to find a seat when she saw him.
Liwei stood near the far wall, sleeves rolled slightly past his wrists, phone in one hand, eyes scanning the room as if he didn't quite belong. In this cramped, noisy shop filled with laughing students and clattering cups, he looked strangely out of place. Too composed. Too quiet.
And somehow, that made him even more noticeable.
Their eyes met.
Recognition crossed his face, followed by something softer. Warmer.
"Althea," he said, walking toward her.
Just hearing him say her name sent a subtle shiver through her.
"Liwei," she replied, surprised by how naturally it came.
"I didn't expect to see you here," he admitted.
She lifted her cup slightly when it was handed to her. "This place is my reward after long days."
He glanced around. "It's… lively."
She laughed. "That's one word for it."
They found an empty table near the corner, barely big enough for two cups and her notebook. Their knees were almost touching. Althea became painfully aware of the closeness, of the way his presence filled the small space, of how the noise around them seemed to blur.
"What do you usually drink?" she asked, needing something safe to focus on.
He looked almost embarrassed. "I… don't really know. I don't come to places like this often."
That shouldn't have surprised her, but it did. "Then you're letting me choose," she said before he could protest. "That's dangerous."
One corner of his lips lifted. "I think I'll take the risk."
She ordered for him brown sugar milk tea, medium sweet. When it arrived, she watched as he took his first sip. His brows drew together slightly, then relaxed.
"…It's good," he said. "Very sweet."
"Just like college romance," she teased lightly, then froze, realizing what she had said.
To her relief, he didn't look offended. He looked… amused.
"Is that what you think this is?" he asked quietly.
The air between them shifted. The question wasn't playful. It was careful. Curious.
"I think," she said slowly, fingers tightening around her straw, "that college is where feelings usually start before people know what to do with them."
Liwei studied her face, as if memorizing something to take with him. "And what do you usually do with yours?"
Althea's breath felt shallow. "I hide them," she admitted. "Because feelings are expensive. They cost time. Focus. Sometimes… they cost dreams."
Something dark and understanding flickered in his eyes. "Yes," he said. "They do."
A group of students burst into laughter nearby, jolting the world back into place. But the tension at their table didn't fade. It deepened.
"Why are you really here, Liwei?" she asked.
He hesitated. Then: "Because I walked past the library. And then this shop. And I realized… these are places you belong to." He paused. "And I wanted to see them."
Her heart thudded painfully.
"You don't even know me," she whispered.
He leaned slightly forward. Close enough that she could smell sugar and something faintly clean, unfamiliar, expensive. "I want to."
The words weren't loud. They didn't need to be.
For a moment, Althea forgot the scholarship forms in her bag. Forgot the fish market back home. Forgot the careful rules she had built to survive. There was only the way he was looking at her, as if she were something rare, something he wasn't supposed to touch but couldn't stop wanting to understand.
Her fingers slid across the table, not quite touching his.
"What if knowing me disappoints you?" she asked softly.
"Then at least it would be real," he replied.
Silence wrapped around them, thick and intimate.
Outside, a jeepney roared past. Someone dropped a cup. The cashier called out an order. Life went on.
Inside their small corner, something fragile and dangerous unfolded.
When they finally stood to leave, the shop felt smaller than before. As they stepped outside, the evening air brushed cool against her skin. The streetlights glowed softly, reflecting in the shallow puddles along the sidewalk.
They stopped near the curb.
"Thank you," Liwei said. "For choosing for me."
She smiled. "Anytime."
He hesitated. Then, slowly, carefully, he reached out and took her hand.
Not quickly. Not possessively.
Just enough.
Her breath caught as his fingers closed around hers. His skin was warm. Solid. Real. The noise of the street faded until all she could hear was her own heartbeat.
"I don't know where this goes," he said quietly. "But I don't want to walk away from it."
Althea looked at their joined hands, then up at him. "Neither do I."
They didn't kiss.
But when he squeezed her hand slightly before letting go, she knew without doubt that something had crossed a line that could never be uncrossed.
And as she walked home that night, milk tea sweetness still on her tongue, Althea realized she wasn't just carrying books anymore.
She was carrying him.