I was finally back at the university after four long, miserable days.

Unfortunately, I had missed the entire festival.

Fuck you, Pran.

Seriously. Fuck. You.

Stupid psycho.

I huffed and sank lower into my seat at the cafeteria, poking the steaming pile of rice on my tray like it had personally insulted me. My pout deepened as I sulked, feeling the weight of missing out, of falling behind, of not having the energy to bounce around like my usual self.

Dao said they took photos without me—smiling, laughing, dancing under string lights while I was locked up in my dorm room trying not to think about how disgusting I’d felt that day. I didn’t want to admit it, but I was still rattled.

Still scared. Still... hurt.

But at least one thing went right.

Pran had been suspended.
After my complaint, the university took immediate action. Apparently, he’d tried something similar before, and my case was the final straw. Good fucking riddance.

Still, the hollow feeling in my chest remained.

I was tired. Emotionally drained. My usual dramatics were muted, the fire in me replaced by a small flickering candle.

I kept stabbing the rice, imagining it was Pran’s face.

Then—

I felt it.

A shift in the air. A strange, heavy presence behind me.

I looked up slowly.

P’Johan.

My breath caught in my throat.

He was standing right across from me, tall and broad in his black jacket, the wind tousling his already messy hair. His face was unreadable—expression cold, eyes sharp. Not a flicker of amusement or recognition.

Just… him. Quiet and looming. Dangerous, as always.

My heart instantly started pounding.

Why was I nervous?
Why did my palms suddenly feel clammy?
Why did my chest tighten just by seeing him?

I scrambled to say something.

“Phi…” My voice came out small.

“I—uh—I mean… Thank you. For that day,” I stammered, offering a weak smile that I tried to make casual. “I… I really mean it.”

His eyes didn’t soften. If anything, they narrowed.

Then, without warning, he stepped forward, grabbed my face—not roughly, but with firm fingers along my jaw—and pulled me closer.

I froze.

His eyes bored into mine.

“That smile…” he said, voice low, nearly a whisper. “You should try controlling it.”

My breath hitched.

What…?

“Do you enjoy grabbing attention?” he continued, his face close—too close. His breath was warm on my skin, his gaze dark and unflinching. “You walk around with that ridiculous smile, acting like no one could ever mean you harm. It’s stupid.”

I blinked, stunned.

My body was rigid, heart hammering in my chest. I couldn’t even move. Couldn’t look away.

Then, just as abruptly, he let go.

The warmth of his hand vanished from my face, but the ghost of his touch lingered, burning hot.

“P-Phi—” I managed to croak.

But he cut me off.

“Little brat.” He sighed.

He reached into the plastic bag he’d been holding and—to my complete confusion—placed a boba tea in front of me.

My favorite one.

Huh?

I blinked at the drink, then back at him.

“Stop acting like a deer in traffic,” he muttered, pushing my forehead lightly with one finger. “Use your brain once in a while.”

He straightened, shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, and turned to leave.

And before I could even process it—

He was gone.

Just like that.

Leaving me frozen in place with a cup of boba, a thudding heart, and my face still burning from the heat of his palm.

“What… just happened,” I whispered to myself.

I stared at the drink.

Then at the door he walked out of.

Then back at the drink.

He bought me boba?

He scolded me for smiling?

He touched my face?

What the hell was that?

My cheeks were on fire, my ears red enough to fry. I could barely hold the straw without my fingers trembling.

“You stupid, stupid, stupid long-limbed gorilla,” I muttered under my breath, burying my face in my hands, the blush spreading from my ears to my neck.

I took a sip of the boba, lips trembling.

Sweet. Just the way I liked it.

Goddamn it.

✿✿✿

Johan POV

I was sitting on the low wall outside the garage, legs stretched out, cigarette balanced between my lips, the sky a dull grey above me.

The evening was quiet. Too quiet.

For once, there was no revving, no shouting, no noise. Just the distant hum of an engine idling, the soft rustle of wind. I exhaled, watching the smoke curl up toward the clouds, the burn at the back of my throat grounding me more than the day ever had.

I reached into my jacket pocket, unlocking my phone without thinking.

It buzzed.

One new message.

From: Little Brat

Of course.

I clicked it open lazily.

"Phiiiiiiiii thank you so much for the boba tea"
"I love phi so much"
"Can I cook for phi again?? "

I stared at the screen, the ghost of a laugh almost escaping me.

This kid.

This stupid, persistent, shameless little deer.

I scoffed, shaking my head and leaning back against the cool stone.

Still hopeless. Still soft.

Still acting like nothing ever happened.

No trace of the tears. No trace of fear. Just that sparkly, idiotic tone he always used like the world hadn’t tried to crush him four days ago.

He was impossible to read. Or maybe… maybe I was just pretending I couldn’t.

I stared at the message a little too long.

I love phi so much.

I inhaled slowly.

Held it.

Then let it go.

I didn’t reply.

Didn’t even type a dot.

Instead, I slid the phone back into my jacket pocket and stood up, brushing ash from my jeans.

The cigarette burned between my fingers, but I didn’t put it out.

I smiled—just a twitch at the corner of my lips—and made my way toward my bike.

The air was cold.

But for the first time in days, I didn’t feel so fucking heavy.