Chapter Text
The first thing Teetee noticed was the suitcase.
Not the face. Not the eyes. Not the stupidly pretty side profile that would later haunt him for the next month like an unpaid debt.
It was the suitcase.
Because who the hell used a pastel blue suitcase with a tiny white polar bear keychain dangling from the zipper?
No offense, anyone, either a guy or a girl can like cute things, but…
Why does someone who looks like a final boss own the cutest luggage known to mankind??
And more importantly, why did he own a polar bear keychain that looked like it should come free with children’s yogurt?
Teetee, half-dead after a two-hour flight delay from Chiang Mai, watched the boy drag it through Suvarnabhumi Airport like he had personally offended the floor tiles. Hoodie oversized. Mask on. Hair messy in the way rich shampoo commercials tried to imitate but failed. The boy walked with the energy of someone who had just woken up, had no interest in being awake, and was already planning his next nap.
And slippers.
Slippers.
At the airport.
Teetee stopped walking. North, who nearly crashed into him from behind, groaned. “Why did you stop like a traffic cone?”
Teetee did not answer.
The boy adjusted the strap of his bag with sleepy movements, head slightly lowered as if he were still mentally somewhere else entirely. There was something strangely soft about him. Quiet. Untouchable. He didn’t seem aware of the people glancing at him as he passed.
Like moonlight if moonlight wore grey sweatpants.
Wave followed Teetee’s line of sight before immediately snorting.
“Oh no.”
“What?” North asked.
Wave pointed with his chin. “He got hit.”
Teetee blinked. “By what?”
“Beauty.”
Noth looked over. Then he wheezed. “Oh, you’re so done.”
“I’m not done,” Teetee said, offended. “I’m standing normally.”
“You’re standing like a man who just saw his future divorce settlement,” North said.
“That doesn’t even make sense.”
“It will when he rejects you.”
Teetee ignored them because the boy had just pushed his hair back slightly, revealing the side of his face for half a second. And…
Oh.
Oh, that was a problem.
Pretty wasn’t even the right word. Pretty was too small. Too easy. Too ordinary.
The boy looked unfair.
Not in a celebrity way. Not polished or flashy or attention-seeking. He looked like someone who could sit silently in the corner of a room and somehow make everyone else feel like they were being too loud just by existing. He looked like someone people accidentally fell in love with.
Which was worse.
Teetee stared so hard he almost rolled his luggage into a toddler. The toddler glared at him. Teetee whispered, “Sorry, boss,” already raising his hand in a wai 🙏.
North grabbed his shoulder and turned him slightly. “Bro. Your soul just left your body.”
“No, it didn’t.”
“You look spiritually displaced.”
“I’m fine.”
“You just apologized to a child like he was your manager.”
“He had authority in his eyes.”
Wave folded his arms. “Should we call someone? A doctor? A monk? Your mother?”
“Don’t call my mother,” Teetee said quickly. “She’ll ask if I ate.”
“You didn’t.”
“That’s not the point.”
The boy suddenly paused near the arrival gate, looking around with the blank expression of someone whose soul had not fully loaded back into his body yet. He lifted his phone, frowned at the screen, then looked up again.
Then, their eyes met.
Briefly. Maybe two seconds. Three at most.
But Teetee felt weirdly caught.
The boy had round eyes. Sleepy-looking, but sharp underneath. Like he was quiet on purpose, not because he couldn’t speak. Like he had a whole world behind his face and didn’t plan on letting anyone in without a very strict approval process.
Then the boy looked away first.
And Teetee’s heart betrayed him by doing something deeply embarrassing. It jumped. Not skipped.
Jumped.
Like it had seen a dog.
“Holy shit,” Wave whispered. “You’re blushing.”
“I’m literally not.”
“You literally are.”
“It’s the airport lighting.”
“Airport lighting made you blush?”
“It’s aggressive lighting.”
North leaned close and inspected him. “No, that’s romance rash.”
Teetee shoved him away. “Don’t diagnose me.”
The boy started walking again, pastel suitcase trailing behind him, polar bear keychain swinging with every step. Teetee watched him go. He tried not to. He failed immediately.
The boy disappeared into the moving crowd, swallowed by families, tourists, taxi drivers, and people holding signs with names written in thick black marker. Teetee kept staring at the space where he had been.
Wave clicked his tongue. “Gone.”
Teetee exhaled. North patted his shoulder solemnly. “May he rest in your imagination forever.”
“Shut up.”
“You didn’t even get his name.”
“I didn’t even need his name.”
Wave raised an eyebrow. “Because?”
Teetee grabbed the handle of his suitcase and lifted his chin with great dignity. “Because that was clearly a cinematic passing moment.”
North stared at him. Wave stared too. Then North said, “You need sleep.”
“I need many things,” Teetee muttered, glancing one last time toward the crowd. “Apparently, therapy is one of them.”
————————————
On the other side of the airport, Por was already regretting being awake.
The trip from Krabi had been nice. Too nice, maybe. His mother had insisted on taking photos every three minutes because “the sea looks different from this angle,” while his elder sister had bought enough snacks to feed a small village and then accused him of being boring for falling asleep through half the holiday.
He loved them. He really did.
But also loved silence, and not being perceived by strangers in a crowded airport. Unfortunately, being perceived seemed to happen to him a lot.
Por tugged his mask higher and checked his phone again.
AuAu: WHERE ARE YOU???
AuAu: I have been standing dramatically for ten minutes…
AuAu: people are looking
AuAu: actually let them look, I look good today 😎😏
AuAu: but still… WHERE ARE YOU
Por blinked slowly. Then typed:
Por: baggage area
AuAu replied immediately:
AuAu: YOU SAID THAT 15 MINUTES AGO
AuAu: DID THE BAGGAGE AREA ADOPT YOU ??
Before Por could respond, another message appeared.
Save: He is near Gate 6. I’m holding him back from yelling your name.
Por’s mouth softened faintly behind his mask.
Por: thank you
Save: Please hurry. He is starting to narrate your disappearance like a crime documentary.
Por looked up and scanned the crowd. He found AuAu almost instantly. It was impossible not to.
AuAu was waving both arms in the air like someone trying to guide a helicopter landing. Beside him stood Save, smaller, calmer, holding one of AuAu’s sleeves with the quiet patience of someone who had spent years preventing public disasters.
“POR!” AuAu shouted anyway. Several people turned. Por closed his eyes. There was comfort in friendship. There was also humiliation.
AuAu ran toward him and nearly crashed into his suitcase. “My beautiful, emotionally unavailable best friend has returned from the sea!”
Por stared at him. “Don’t say that in public.”
“You came back tanner.”
“I did not.”
“You did. You look expensive.”
Save gave Por a small smile. “Welcome back.”
Por nodded. “Thank you.”
AuAu leaned closer, squinting at his face. “Did you sleep at all?”
“On the plane.”
“That does not count. Plane sleep is fake sleep.”
Por pulled his suitcase closer. “Sleep is sleep.”
“Wrong. Plane sleep is just losing consciousness politely.”
Save touched AuAu’s arm. “Let him breathe first.”
AuAu immediately softened, though only slightly. “Fine. But I missed him.”
“I was gone four days.”
“Four days is enough time for betrayal.”
Por’s eyes moved lazily to Save. “How did you survive him?”
Save smiled. “I feed him.”
“That works?”
“Usually.”
AuAu gasped. “I am not a pet.”
Por, without changing expression, said, “You bark emotionally.”
Save turned away slightly, clearly trying not to laugh. AuAu clutched his chest. “After all we’ve been through?”
Por’s face softened at that, just a little.
All we’ve been through.
AuAu always said things dramatically, but this one carried weight between them. He had been there through things Por didn’t like talking about. Through quiet hospital corridors. Through funeral clothes. Through the strange emptiness after his father passed, when everyone kept telling Por to be strong until he forgot what it felt like to be anything else.
AuAu had never asked him to talk before he was ready. He simply stayed. Loudly, annoyingly, stubbornly stayed.
Save had come later, but somehow fit into their little world like it had always belonged there. Gentle hands. Careful words. Quiet attention. The kind of person who noticed when Por hadn’t eaten, when AuAu was getting overwhelmed, when silence meant more than it seemed.
Por was grateful for them. He would rather eat the airport floor tiles than say it out loud. So instead, he handed AuAu a plastic bag.
AuAu blinked. “What’s this?”
“Dried shrimp snacks. From my mom.”
AuAu’s eyes widened. “Auntie loves me.”
“She said don’t eat all at once.”
“I heard: eat all at once.”
Save calmly took the bag from him. “I’ll hold it.”
AuAu turned to Por in betrayal. “You see this? This is oppression.”
Por’s eyes curved slightly. A tiny smile. Save noticed. AuAu noticed, too, and immediately looked pleased with himself, as if unlocking a personal achievement by making Por smile.
Por looked away before either of them could comment. Unfortunately, AuAu had never respected silence as a concept.
“Oh,” AUAu said suddenly, narrowing his eyes. “Someone was staring at you just now.”
Por’s fingers paused on his suitcase handle. “Who?”
“I don’t know. Tall. Good Looking. Very bright energy. The kind of person who smiles at strangers and means it.”
Save hummed. “Mass communication type?”
“Exactly.”
Por glanced back once. He didn’t see anyone familiar. Only the crowd. Only strangers passing. Only airport noise and sunlight through the glass. For a moment, something strange tugged at the edge of his attention.
Then it passed.
Por turned back. “Let’s go.”
AuAu leaned closer. “Was he handsome?”
Por started walking. “I didn’t see him.”
“That wasn’t an answer.”
“It was.”
“It was a very Por answer.”
Save followed beside them, dragging one of the bags. “Leave him. He’s tired.”
“I am always tired,” Por said.
AuAu pointed at him. “See? This is why people think you’re mysterious.”
Por frowned. “Who thinks I’m mysterious?”
AuAu and Save exchanged a look. Por’s frown deepened. “What?”
AuAu coughed.”Nothing.”
Save said gently, “Some people at uni find you… intimidating.”
Por stopped walking. “Me?”
AuAu pressed his lips together, trying not to smile, “Yes, you.”
Por looked genuinely confused. “I don’t talk to anyone.”
“That is part of the problem.”
“I’m polite.”
“You stare silently.”
“I’m thinking.”
“You look like you’re judging their bloodline.”
Por opened his mouth, then closed it again. “Save patted his arm. “You’re not rude. You just look hard to approach.”
Por considered this. Then said, “Good.”
AuAu wheezed. “See? Ice prince.”
Por gave him a look.
AuAu immediately hid behind Save. “Save, protect me. The goddess is angry.”
Por sighed and walked ahead. He did not notice the way a few people still turned to look at him as he passed.
He rarely did.
————————————
Teetee lasted exactly six hours before mentioning airport boy again.
To his credit, he tried not to. He really tried. He unpacked. Showered. Ate dinner with his mother, who indeed asked whether he had eaten before he could even take off his shoes. He told her about Chiang Mai. About his cousins. About training. About the delayed flight.
He did not mention the boy with the polar bear keychain.
Because he was normal. A normal person. A normal trainee idol attending university who absolutely did not build a romantic tragedy in his head over a stranger wearing slippers at the airport.
Then, at 1:12 a.m., he texted the group chat.
Teetee: Do you think the airport guy likes seafood
North: It’s 1 a.m
Wave: This is an illness
Teetee: He had that Krabi energy, man
North: What does that even mean?
Teetee: Sleepy but oceanic
Wave: I’m blocking you until morning
North: Please debut soon. You need professional management
Teetee rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. The problem was not that he had seen a beautiful person. The problem was that the beautiful person had looked at him like he was not impressed.
That was dangerous.
Teetee liked a challenge. Actually, no. That made him sound shallow. He liked interesting people.
Better.
More respectable.
Airport boy had been interesting. His beauty was obvious, yes, but his expression had been the kind that made Teetee want to annoy him just to see what would happen. Would he glare? Would he blink slowly? Would he walk away? Would he say something dry enough to emotionally damage him?
Teetee smiled in the dark. Then immediately slapped a pillow over his face. “No,” he mumbled. “Don’t be weird.”
His phone vibrated.
Wave: Also, yes, he looked like he liked seafood
Teetee shot upright.
Teetee: I KNEW IT
North: Both of you need help
————————————
“You’re still thinking about the airport guy?”
Teetee flopped face-first onto the cafe table. “No.”
North sipped his drink. “You’ve mentioned him seventeen times.”
“That’s fake news.”
“You asked if fate was real.”
“That was philosophical.”
“You asked if seeing someone once can alter your brain chemistry.”
Wave looked up from his phone. “Actually, that one was valid.”
Teetee groaned dramatically into the table. It had been three weeks. Three whole weeks. And somehow the airport boy still appeared in his head at the weirdest times.
During lectures. In the shower. While brushing his teeth.
Once, while editing a video, which caused him to accidentally overlay a romantic background music onto a faculty interview. His professor had stared at him for a full minute.
Teetee still hadn’t recovered.
“It’s the mystery,” he defended weakly.
North pointed at him, “No. You’re down catastrophically.”
“I don’t even know his name.”
“That has never stopped you before.”
“That’s offensive.”
“True enough.”
Teetee threw a french fry at him.
The truth was… he really didn’t understand.
He met attractive people constantly. That was just part of being around entertainment industry circles. Pretty faces don’t usually stick.
But this one did.
Not because he was gorgeous… okay, he was ridiculously gorgeous. But it was more than that. There had been something lonely about him. Like he existed slightly apart from everyone else. Teetee hated that he found that attractive.
It made him sound insane.
“You know what your problem is?” Wave said.
“What?”
“You like people who look like they’d reject you.”
“That is NOT true.”
North and Wave stared at him silently.
Teetee frowned. “ …okay, maybe a little.”
————————————
A month and a half later, Teetee’s life was back to its usual rhythm.
Classes. Training. Assignments. Practice. Pretending he was not tired. Pretending he was less anxious than he was. Smiling until his cheeks hurt.
He was good at it. Being bright. Being funny. Being the one who lifted the mood. Being the person who replied first, laughed the loudest, remembered birthdays, bought drinks, said “it’s okay” before anyone had to apologize.
People liked him.
That was a blessing. Sometimes it was exhausting. But Teetee never let that exhaustion sit on his face for long. Not in public. Not where people could see.
Especially not at university, where he was already half-treated like someone everyone knew because of his trainee status. Some students recognized him from online clips. Some asked for photos. Some flirted openly. Some whispered. Some acted like they knew him because they had seen his face on a screen.
Teetee smiled through it all. He always smiled.
Until one morning, near the faculty walkway, he nearly dropped his iced coffee.
Because the airport boy was standing right there.
On campus.
Alive. Real. Existing.
“What the hell,” Teetee whispered.
Teetee grabbed North’s arm hard enough to almost dislocate it.
“NORTH.”
North, beside him, looked alarmed. “OW—What? Did your management email you?”
“No.”
“Worse?”
“HIM.”
North followed his gaze. Then his face changed. Slowly. Horribly. Like someone realizing the punchline before the joke landed. Then, immediately burst out laughing.
“Oh my god.”
“That’s him,” Teetee said.
“That’s the guy from the airport?”
“That’s HIM.”
Wave, who had been walking behind them and scrolling through his phone, glanced up. “Who’s him?”
Teetee pointed discreetly. Wave looked. Then stopped walking.
“…you’re cooked.”
Teetee barely heard him. Because the boy looked even more unreal on campus. At the airport, Teetee could blame the lighting. Exhaustion. Travel haze. Destiny being dramatic.
Here, under the shade of the music faculty building, surrounded by students, notice boards, vending machines, and a cat sleeping on a bench, the boy still looked like he had been edited into the scene with better resolution than everyone else.
White shirt. Loose cardigan. Hair falling softly across his forehead. Earphones in. Expression calm to the point of almost cold.
Pretty enough to ruin lives.
He was standing beside two other people.
One was animated, talking with his entire body, hands slicing the air as if presenting evidence in court. The other was smaller, cute, soft-faced, quietly holding the animated one’s drink so he didn’t spill it during whatever TED Talk he was currently giving.
Airport boy stood between them like a tired deity being forced to attend a group project meeting.
Teetee felt something inside him collapse.
North leaned close. “Do you know who that is?”
Teetee swallowed. “Should I?”
“That’s Por.”
“Por,” Teetee repeated, as if testing the name. It fits.
Of course, it fits.
Soft. Simple. Pretty.
He hated that he liked saying it.
Wave added, “Music faculty. The one people call uni angel.”
Teetee froze. Then, turned slowly. “…that’s the uni angel?”
North stared. “You didn’t know?”
“No?”
“How do you not know what uni angel looks like?”
“I don’t keep a database of beautiful people on campus!”
Wave gave him a look.
Teetee pointed at him. “Don’t.”
“Apparently, you do now. You are literally making heart eyes at one.”
“That is different. I found him organically.”
“Organically,” North repeated.
“Yes. Like vegetables.”
“Romance vegetables?”
“Stop ruining my sentence.”
But Teetee’s attention had already drifted back.
The uni angel.
Ah.
That explained a lot.
Every university had one. That one student everyone talked about in half-whispers, as if beauty came with security guards. Teetee had heard the name before. Por from music. Por who sang like an angel. Por who looked too pretty to be real. Por who barely talked. Por who made people lose confidence before they even said hello.
Someone had once called him the ice prince.
Someone else said, “Goddess.”
Teetee had assumed everyone was exaggerating. Clearly, everyone had been underreacting.
Because from where he stood, Por radiated an aura that screamed:
’Please admire from a safe distance. Direct interaction may result in emotional injury.’
And somehow… somehow…
Teetee found that cute.
Hopeless.
He was hopeless.
”He looks mean,” North said.
“He looks sleepy,” Teetee corrected.
“He looks like he’d report me for breathing too loudly.”
”You do breathe loudly.”
”I have sinuses.”
Por’s extroverted friend suddenly laughed so loudly that several students turned. Por didn’t react much, only reached over and calmly pulled the friend’s sleeve down when he nearly knocked into someone passing by. The smaller friend said something. The loud one immediately deflated.
Por’s mouth twitched.
Barely.
A tiny, almost invisible smile.
Teetee’s brain short-circuited. “He smiled,” Teetee whispered.
Wave frowned. “Did he?”
”Yes.”
”I saw nothing.”
”That’s because you don’t have a romantic vision.”
North looked concerned. “Romantic vision sounds like a medical condition.”
“It is,” Wave said. “Terminal.”
As if sensing the staring, Por looked up. Their eyes met.
Again.
This time, recognition flickered across Por’s face. Tiny. Almost nothing.
But Teetee saw it. He saw it because he was, unfortunately, watching like a man with no self-respect.
Por blinked once.
Teetee reacted before thinking. He smiled brightly and lifted his hand. Not too much. Just enough.
Friendly. Casual. Charming.
The kind of wave that said, ‘yes, hello, we met once in an airport, and I have been mentally unwell since.’
Por stared at him. For one terrifying second, Teetee thought he would be ignored.
Then Por gave the tiniest nod. A nod so small it could have been accidental. Then he immediately looked away.
Teetee stopped breathing. North stared at him. “…did you just get acknowledged?”
“I think so.”
“The uni angel acknowledged you.”
Teetee placed a hand dramatically over his heart. “I’ve won.”
“You literally lost. He left.”
“No, no.” Teetee shook his head, already smiling. “That nod meant something.”
Wave looked disturbed. “You built an entire romance from one nod.”
“And I’ll build another one.”
“Please never say things like that again.”
Across the walkway, AuAu had noticed. Of course, he had. He leaned toward Por with sharp interest. “Who is that?”
Por adjusted his earphones. “Who?”
“The handsome one who waved at you.”
Por did not look back. “I don’t know.”
AuAu gasped. “You nodded at someone you don’t know?”
“It was polite.”
“You? Socially polite?”
Por looked at him.
Save immediately touched AuAu’s elbow. “Careful.”
AuAu lowered his voice. “Sorry. But still. He looked at you like he saw heaven and forgot his boarding pass.”
Por’s expression remained blank, but the tips of his ears warmed slightly.
Save noticed. Save always noticed. “Do you know him from somewhere?” Save asked gently.
Por’s fingers tightened around his notebook for half a second. Then said, “Airport.”
AuAu’s eyes widened. “Airport romance?”
“No.”
“Airport—“
“AuAu.” Save tugged him back. “Let him answer.”
Por looked ahead, face calm again. “We passed by each other once.”
AuAu stared at him. “That’s it?”
“Yes.”
AuAu slowly turned to Save. “He said ‘that’s it’ with ears turning red.”
Por immediately touched one ear.
AuAu pointed. “AHA!”
Por walked faster.
Save smiled apologetically at passing students as AuAu chased after Por, whisper-shouting. “Por! Por, come back! I support your airport love story!”
“It’s not a love story,” Por said.
“Not yet!”
Por said nothing. But later, when AuAu was distracted arguing with Save about lunch, Por glanced back once. The bright boy was still standing there with his friends. Still smiling. Still looking at him like being ignored was only the beginning of the game. Por should have found it annoying.
He did.
A little.
But there was something familiar about that kind of brightness. Something warm and ridiculous. Something that made his chest feel strange for one quiet second.
Por looked away before the feeling could become a thought.
————————————
Teetee decided to approach him after lunch.
This was not impulsive. It was strategic. A mature, well-considered decision made after forty-two minutes of pretending to listen to North talk about a production assignment while secretly tracking Por’s general direction like a very respectful stalker.
“Don’t do anything embarrassing,” Wave said as they walked toward the cafeteria.
Teetee scoffed. “I never do anything embarrassing.”
North nearly choked on his drink. “You once introduced yourself to a senior by saying, ‘I’m emotionally available but academically unstable.’ ”
“It worked. She remembered me.”
“For the wrong reasons.”
“Still counts.”
Wave stopped walking suddenly. “There.”
Por was seated near the far side of the cafeteria with AuAu and Save. He had a tray in front of him, but he was eating slowly, almost lazily, picking at rice while AuAu talked nonstop. Save kept placing vegetables onto AuAu’s spoon between sentences like he was feeding a hyperactive child disguised as a university student.
Por looked half-asleep. Beautifully half-asleep.
Teetee clasped his hands together. “He eats like a cat.”
North stared. “How is that romantic?”
“It’s adorable.”
“Cats are selfish.”
“So am I. Match made in heaven.”
Wave sighed. “I’m going to pretend I don’t know you.”
Teetee took a deep breath. Then another. Then he walked over. Confidently. Mostly.
His first step was strong. His second step was also strong. By the third, Por looked up.
And Teetee’s confidence tripped over itself and died.
Por’s eyes were even prettier up close. This was extremely inconvenient.
AuAu noticed Teetee approaching first. His expression sharpened with immediate curiosity. Save looked between them quietly.
Teetee stopped beside the table and smiled. “Hi!”
Por blinked.
AuAu’s eyebrows climbed. Save’s mouth curved faintly.
Por said, “Hi.”
One word. Flat. Soft. Dangerous.
Teetee almost forgot his entire personality.
Almost.
Then he recovered, because he was a professional idiot. “I’m Teetee,” he said brightly. “We met at the airport.”
Por looked at him. “We didn’t meet,” Por said. “We passed by.”
AuAu made a small choking sound.
Teetee placed a hand over his chest. “You remembered.”
“I remembered airports.”
“That’s okay. I’ll take it.”
Por’s expression did not change. “Take what?”
“Being remembered by association.”
Save looked down at his food, smiling. AuAu was visibly delighted.
Teetee continued, because stopping now would mean death. “You’re Por, right?”
Por’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Yes.”
“Music faculty.”
“Yes.”
“Uni angel?”
Por froze. AuAu slapped a hand over his mouth. Save closed his eyes briefly, as if praying for patience. Teetee realized, half a second too late, that perhaps saying that out loud was not the smoothest choice.
Por stared at him.
Teetee smiled wider. It was a panicked smile. “I mean,” Teetee said quickly, “that’s what people call you. Not me. I’m respectful. I can call you P’Por. Or senior. Or your royal moonliness. Your choice.”
AuAu lost the battle and laughed. Por’s stare became colder. But his ear… his ears were red.
Teetee saw them. Teetee almost ascended.
“Please don’t call me that,” Por said.
“P’Por it is.”
AuAu leaned forward. “And you are?”
“Teetee. Mass comm.”
“The trainee?”
Teetee waved awkwardly. “Unfortunately.”
“Unfortunately?” AuAu asked.
“It makes people expect me to be cool.”
Por, very quietly, said, “Are you?”
Teetee turned to him immediately. Por was looking at his food. Not at him. But he had asked.
He had asked.
Teetee grinned. “No,” he said. “But I photograph well, so people get confused.”
AuAu burst out laughing again. Even Save smiled properly this time. Por’s mouth twitched. Tiny. Almost nothing.
But Teetee saw it. He saw it.
He would write it in his diary if he had one. Actually, maybe he should start one.
Dear Diary, today the angel almost laughed at my joke. I am choosing wedding colours.
Por lifted his spoon. “Do you need something?” The question was polite. Also devastating.
Teetee blinked. “Need?”
“You came here.”
“Oh.” He straightened. “Right.”
He had absolutely no plan. None. Zero.
He had approached Por powered only by delusion and iced coffee. North and Wave watched from a distance, both looking like they regretted knowing him.
Teetee looked back at Por.
Por waited.
AuAu looked excited.
Save looked entertained.
Teetee’s brain threw out the first sentence it could find. “I wanted to ask if your Polar Bear has a name.”
Silence. Immediate silence. Por stared.
AuAu whispered, “His what?”
Teetee pointed weakly toward Por’s bag, where the tiny white polar bear keychain now hung from the side pocket. “That little guy. Your keychain.”
Por slowly looked down at it. Then back at Teetee. “You came here,” Por said, “to ask about my keychain.”
Teetee nodded solemnly. “Yes.”
Por’s eyes narrowed again. “Why?”
”Because you look like you’d emotionally devastate people for fun, but then you own that…”
AuAu collapsed onto Save’s shoulder. Save patted his back, laughing silently.
Teetee pointed accusingly at the keychain. “That thing looks like it should come free with strawberry yogurt for children.”
“…it was a gift.”
“That makes it worse.”
“Why?”
“Because now you’re secretly sentimental too.”
Por looked at Teetee for a long moment. Then, to Teetee’s absolute shock, he did answer the first question.
“No name.”
Teetee gasped. “That’s cruel.”
“It’s a keychain.”
“It has feelings.”
“It does not.”
“How do you know?”
Por’s face remained blank, but something in his eyes shifted. “Do you always talk like this?”
“Only when I’m nervous.” That slipped out before Teetee could stop it.
Por blinked.
AuAu stopped laughing. Save’s gaze softened.
Teetee felt heat crawl up his neck.
Damn it.
Too honest. Too soon.
He cleared his throat and immediately pointed at the polar bear again. “Anyway, I suggest Nong Mii.”
Por stared. “No.”
”Nong Fah?”
”No.”
”Nong Airport Destiny?”
Por stood up.
Teetee panicked. “Okay, too much.”
Por picked up his tray. AuAu was still grinning like someone watching a drama live. Save calmly gathered their things. Por looked at Teetee once more.
“You’re strange.”
Teetee’s mouth opened. Closed. Then smiled.
“Is that good?”
Por paused. His eyes dropped briefly to Teetee’s face, then away. “Not yet.”
Then he walked away.
AuAu followed, turning around to give Teetee two thumbs up. Save passed last and gave him a small, polite smile that somehow felt like both encouragement and warning.
Teetee stood there, heart kicking wildly. North and Wave approached slowly.
North looked at him. “How did it go?”
Teetee watched Por disappear through the cafeteria exit. Then grinned. “He said ‘not yet.’ ”
Wave frowned. “That sounds bad.”
“No,” Teetee said, touching his chest like he had received a prophecy. “That sounds like potential.”
North groaned. “We’ve lost him.”
Wave nodded. “Completely.”
Teetee ignored them. Because Por had not smiled. Not fully. Not yet.
But Teetee had seen the almost.
And for some deeply unreasonable reason, he wanted to be there when it happened for real.