“I really don’t understand… what the hell does that man even want?!”

I flopped face-first onto my pillow, groaning into the fabric. My feet kicked weakly at the mattress while my hands clutched the edges like I was trying to hang onto my last shred of sanity.

A pout pulled at my lips, and my eyes burned with the kind of embarrassed tears you get when you try way too hard and still get nothing.

“Finally got humbled, huh?” Phoon said, flopping onto the beanbag beside the bed with his usual smug smirk.

I turned my head just enough to glare at him. “I tried everything, Phoon. My charm. Cooking. Full eye contact with light head tilts. I even sacrificed my self-respect on the altar of emotional masochism. And he just won’t break.”

“Maybe he’s dead inside,” Dao offered helpfully from the desk.

I sat up suddenly, wide-eyed. “Wait—what if I just… kidnapped him?”

Everyone froze.

“Like, just snatch him and trap him somewhere until he admits he likes me back?”

Phoon dropped his phone in horror. “What—”

“North,” Dao groaned, rubbing his temples like I’d personally offended his IQ. “You’re too smart to say things that make you sound clinically insane.”

“I’m just saying,” I mumbled, flopping back onto the pillow. “He doesn’t respond to cooking or compliments or clinginess. Maybe he needs trauma.”

“Please don’t traumatize Johan,” Easter muttered from the edge of the bed. He reached over and rubbed my shoulder gently. “You’re dramatic, but not criminal.”

I sighed into the pillow again, voice muffled. “Should I just give up? Go back to flirting with everyone like I used to?”

There was a pause. I could feel their eyes on me.

“But I can’t, you know?” I admitted, voice softer now. “Because ever since that bloody emotionally constipated asshole walked into my life, I can’t even flirt properly.”

I rolled over and stared at the ceiling.

“My brain used to be a flirty, glittery buffet. And now it’s just—him. That blank face. Those stupid sunglasses. That gravel voice. Why does rejection make him hotter?!”

Phoon snorted. Dao sighed deeply like he was aging prematurely. Easter just kept rubbing slow, soothing circles on my shoulder.

“It’s like he cast a curse on me,” I muttered. “A dry, emotionally unavailable, sharp-jawed curse.”

“You’re a mess,” Phoon said fondly.

“I know,” I whispered. “And I’m not even cute about it anymore.”

✿✿✿⁠ 

Johan POV

The student council room was its usual mess—papers scattered across the table, coffee cups collecting condensation, and the faint hum of a busted fan trying its best not to die.

I sat on the couch, scrolling aimlessly through my phone, pretending I didn’t feel the three pairs of eyes aimed directly at my skull.

“I was about to approach Nong,” Tonfah said, voice softer than usual, “but he ran away without giving me a glance.”

He wasn’t being dramatic. Just… genuinely hurt.

There was a long silence.

“Johan,” Hill said slowly, “why can’t you just be nice to him?”

I didn’t answer. Just kept scrolling like they weren’t talking to me. Notifications I didn’t care about. News I wouldn’t read.

“He’s literally the easiest person to care for,” Hill added, exasperated. “All he wants is someone to look at him like he matters.”

“If Nong liked me,” Arthit chimed in, arms crossed, “I would’ve hung the goddamn moon for him.”

I scoffed.

Arthit turned toward me without missing a beat. “Keep scoffing and choke on it.”

Tonfah blinked, and Hill hid a smirk behind his notebook.

Arthit wasn’t done.

“You shouldn’t keep eating the food he makes if you’re so against making him happy,” he said, tone sharper now. “You don’t get to keep collecting the affection and pretend it means nothing.”

I felt their stares pressing in harder now.

I could’ve ignored them. Could’ve cracked another dry one-liner or left the room entirely like I always did when things got too loud.

But for some reason—I didn’t.

I set the phone down. Let it slip out of my fingers onto the couch cushion.

And then, quietly, I said, “You know I wasn’t born with a silver spoon, right?”

Hill raised an eyebrow.

Tonfah tilted his head slightly, listening.

“I don’t waste food,” I muttered, eyes fixed on a stain on the coffee table. “Never have. Probably never will.”

A pause.

“That doesn’t mean I’m supposed to give my heart away just because someone’s willing to feed me.”

My voice was low. Tired. Honest, even if I hated how raw it sounded.

Arthit didn’t reply right away. He just exhaled through his nose and looked away.

Hill leaned back in his chair. “You’re allowed to have boundaries, Jo,” he said. “But maybe you don’t have to be such a cold bastard about it.”

Tonfah smiled faintly. “Even porcupines know how to love without stabbing everything that gets close.”

I closed my eyes and let out a slow breath. The fan clicked overhead like it agreed with them.

“I’m just trying not to become someone I can’t control,” I said.

And that damn smile of his—bright, needy, real—was harder to shut out than I wanted to admit.