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To the rest of the campus, Pond and Phuwin were as constant as the rising sun. They had entered the university holding hands five years ago, two wide-eyed freshmen who quickly became the golden couple everyone adored. In five years, they had never had a real fight—only small, soft misunderstandings that were usually resolved with a quiet conversation over iced Americanos and a kiss pressed to the temple. They were effortless.
Until Prim transferred.
It started subtly. Prim was Phuwin’s childhood best friend, someone he hadn't seen in years until her transfer to their university was finalized mid-semester. At first, Pond was genuinely happy for him. He knew how much Phuwin cherished his past, and seeing Phuwin’s eyes light up when he talked about her was endearing.
Then, the routine began to break.
For five years, their days had a familiar, sacred rhythm. No matter how packed their class schedules were, they always found twenty minutes between lectures to sit on the stone bench behind the library, sharing a pastry and holding hands under the table. After 5 PM, Pond would wait outside Phuwin’s faculty building to walk him back to their shared apartment, stopping by the night market for dinner.
Now, those twenty-minute breaks were spent waiting alone.
"I'm so sorry, Pond," Phuwin gasped out one afternoon, breathless as he skidded to a halt in front of their usual library bench. He looked apologetic, his eyes bright with exertion, but his phone was already buzzing in his hand. "Prim got lost trying to find the administration building, and her campus map isn't working. I have to go show her where it is before her next class starts."
Pond squeezed a soft smile onto his face, swallowing down the quiet disappointment settling in his chest. "It's fine. Go help her."
"I'll make it up to you at dinner!" Phuwin promised, leaning down to press a quick, hurried kiss to Pond's cheek before turning on his heel and running back toward the central plaza.
Pond sat on the bench alone, staring at the two iced coffees sitting in front of him. The ice melted, watering down his drink until the bell rang for his next lecture.
That night, dinner didn't happen either. Prim had asked Phuwin to help her set up her new apartment's Wi-Fi, and by the time Phuwin got back to their place, it was past ten. He collapsed onto the bed, muttering a tired apology before falling asleep with his face buried in Pond’s chest. Pond stayed awake for hours, running his fingers through Phuwin's dark hair, wondering why the warmth felt just a little colder than usual.
It escalated over the next two weeks.
The little date spots that used to belong strictly to the two of them were slowly invaded. Every time Pond turned around, Prim was there—asking Phuwin to walk her to her seminar, asking him to review her syllabus, asking him to join her for lunch because she didn't know anyone else yet. Phuwin, sweet and fiercely loyal to his friends, never said no.
The tipping point came on a rainy Thursday afternoon. It was their unofficial five-and-a-half-year anniversary—a silly, made-up milestone they had celebrated every six months since freshman year with dim sum at a small diner three blocks off-campus. Pond had booked their usual booth two weeks in advance.
He stood under the overhang of the Arts building, holding an umbrella in one hand and a small paper bag containing Phuwin’s favorite blueberry muffin in the other. Students flooded past him, rushing to escape the downpour.
Ten minutes passed. Then twenty.
Finally, Phuwin emerged from the double doors, but he wasn't alone. Prim was beside him, laughing at something he had just said, her arm loosely linked through his elbow to stay under his umbrella.
When Phuwin spotted Pond, his smile faltered slightly, a flash of sudden realization crossing his face. He untangled himself from Prim and hurried over, his expression torn.
"Pond—"
"You forgot," Pond said quietly. His voice wasn't angry; it was heavy, tired, and laced with a sharp, stinging edge that Phuwin had never heard in five years.
"I didn't forget! I swear I didn't," Phuwin said quickly, stepping under Pond's umbrella and reaching for his hand, but Pond instinctively pulled his wrist back, tucking it into his jacket pocket. Phuwin’s eyes widened at the rejection. "Prim’s umbrella broke, and her ride got canceled because of the storm. I was just going to drive her home first, and then—"
"And then what, Phuwin?" Pond interrupted, his chest tightening as he looked at the younger boy. "And then we rush through our dinner in twenty minutes before she calls you again because she can't figure out her stove? Or before she asks you to pick up her groceries?"
Prim, standing a few feet back under the building overhang, looked awkwardly between them, realizing for the first time that she had walked into something private.
"Pond, she's new here. She doesn't have anyone else," Phuwin pleaded softly, his voice dropping as he tried to bridge the sudden, terrifying distance between them. "She's just a friend. You know that."
"I know she's just your friend, Phuwin," Pond said, his eyes burning as the cold rain splashed against his sneakers. "I’m not worried about her stealing you. I’m tired of being the person who gets whatever leftover time you have at the end of the day. We haven't had a single conversation this week that wasn't interrupted by your phone ringing."
Phuwin froze. The words hung heavily in the air between them, thick with five years of unspoken comfort suddenly shattered by a wall of raw hurt.
"I miss my boyfriend," Pond added, his voice dropping to a vulnerable whisper that cut deeper than any yell could have. "Because right now, it feels like everybody on this campus gets your time except me."
Without waiting for an answer, Pond handed the paper bag with the blueberry muffin into Phuwin’s numb hands, turned around, and walked out into the rain toward the parking lot, leaving his umbrella behind.
Phuwin stood anchored to the concrete, staring down at the damp paper bag in his hands. The realization hit him like a physical blow to the chest—the canceled coffee dates, the half-finished dinners, the way Pond had been sitting quieter on the sofa every night. In his rush to be a good friend, he had completely blinded himself to the fact that he was slowly starving the person he loved most.
"Phuwin..." Prim stepped forward cautiously, her face full of guilt. "I'm so sorry. I didn't realize—"
"It's not your fault, Prim," Phuwin cut in, his voice trembling slightly as he pulled his phone out. "It's mine. I need to go."
He didn't wait for her reply. Leaving his own umbrella with her, Phuwin took off into the heavy downpour, running flat out toward their apartment complex.
By the time Phuwin burst through the front door of their unit, he was drenched to the bone, his hair plastered to his forehead and his breath coming in ragged gasps. Pond was sitting on the edge of their bed, drying his hair with a towel, looking exhausted.
Phuwin didn't say a word. He walked straight across the room, dropped to his knees in front of Pond, and buried his wet face directly into Pond’s lap, wrapping his arms tightly around the elder’s waist like he was afraid Pond might disappear if he let go.
Pond went completely still. "Phuwin, you're soaking wet—"
"I'm sorry," Phuwin sobbed out, the sound muffled against Pond's sweatpants. "I'm so, so sorry, Pond. You're right. I was so stupid. I took advantage of how easy we've always been because I assumed you'd just always be there, and I hurt you."
Pond’s chest heaved with a quiet sigh. The anger that had been simmering inside him for weeks evaporated, replaced by the familiar, ache-inducing love he had carried for five years. He slowly lowered his hand, resting his fingers in Phuwin's wet hair and gently massaging his scalp.
Phuwin lifted his head, his eyes red-rimmed and full of tears. "I love you. You're my priority. Not Prim, not campus, not anything else. I’m setting boundaries with her starting today, and I’m taking you to that dim sum place tomorrow, and the next day, and every single afternoon on that library bench until you believe me again."
Pond looked down at him, a faint, bittersweet smile finally touching the corners of his lips. He leaned forward, resting his forehead against Phuwin’s.
"I never stopped believing you," Pond whispered softly, cupping Phuwin's wet cheek with his warm palm. "I just missed you."
"I'm right here," Phuwin breathed, wrapping his hands over Pond's. "I'm not going anywhere."
Pond didn’t let him move until Phuwin’s shivering finally subsided.
"First," Pond said softly, gently tugging Phuwin up by his wrists, "you’re taking a hot shower before you catch a cold. Move."
Phuwin let himself be steered toward the bathroom without a single protest. Ten minutes later, dressed in one of Pond’s oversized sweatshirts that smelled faintly of vanilla and laundry detergent, Phuwin walked back into the bedroom. His hair was damp, sticking to his forehead in soft curls, and his eyes were still a little swollen, but the terrified edge in his posture was gone.
Pond was sitting in the middle of their bed, holding a warm mug of hot chocolate in one hand and the slightly crumpled paper bag from earlier in the other. He patted the space beside him.
Phuwin crawled onto the mattress instantly, sliding under the heavy duvet and burying his side against Pond’s. He rested his chin on Pond’s shoulder, watching as Pond carefully unwrapped the blueberry muffin, splitting it down the middle and offering the larger half to him.
"You remembered," Phuwin murmured, taking a soft bite.
"Of course I remembered," Pond said, his tone fond as he set the hot chocolate on the nightstand for them to share. "I’ve bought you the exact same muffin five years, Phu. I don't just forget."
Phuwin swallowed past a lump in his throat, lacing his fingers through Pond’s free hand and squeezing tight. "I’m so sorry, Pond. I promise you, starting tomorrow, things change. I mean it."
Pond turned his head, pressing a lingering kiss to Phuwin’s temple. "I know you mean it. Just... don't make me compete for you again."
"Never," Phuwin whispered fiercely. "You don't compete for anything. You own all of it."
The next morning, the rain had cleared, leaving the campus air crisp and cool.
Phuwin met Prim outside the main lecture hall an hour before their morning seminar. She looked visibly relieved to see him, though a hesitant, apologetic look flickered across her face as she stepped closer.
"Phuwin," she started quickly, wringing her hands around the strap of her tote bag. "About yesterday... I am so, so sorry. I didn't realize how much of your time I was taking up. I felt terrible after you ran off into the rain—"
"Prim, listen to me," Phuwin interrupted gently, placing a hand on her shoulder to calm her. "You don't need to apologize for needing help in a new place. But I need to apologize to you for not setting better boundaries from the start."
Prim blinked, caught off guard.
"Pond is my boyfriend, and he's the most important person in my life," Phuwin said, his voice firm, clear, and utterly unwavering. "I love helping you get settled, but I let it get to a point where I was neglecting him, and that’s on me. I talked to the student ambassador office this morning, and I signed you up for the campus buddy program. They’ve assigned a senior from your major to show you around, help you with your courses, and get you connected with the dorm network."
He handed her a small paper slip with a phone number written on it, offering her a soft, genuine smile.
"I’m still your best friend, Prim," Phuwin added smoothly. "We can still grab lunch or study together. But my afternoons, my breaks between classes, and my evenings belong to Pond. I hope you understand."
Prim stared at the slip of paper for a moment before a slow, relieved smile broke across her face. She let out a breath she seemed to have been holding since yesterday. "I do understand. Honestly, Phuwin? I'm really glad he has someone who loves him enough to call you out when you're being an idiot. Send him my apologies again, okay?"
"I will," Phuwin chuckled, feeling a massive weight lift off his chest.
At 1:50 PM, Pond walked down the paved pathway behind the central library.
He moved at his usual steady pace, though his heart was hammering against his ribs in quiet anticipation. He turned the corner toward their usual stone bench under the grand banyan tree, half-expecting to see it empty, half-expecting to wait alone like he had for the past two weeks.
Instead, Phuwin was already sitting there.
He was wearing his university uniform with the top button casually undone, two iced Americanos sitting on the concrete beside him, and a small box of fresh egg tarts resting on his lap. The afternoon sunlight filtered through the leaves above, casting golden dappled light across his dark hair.
When Phuwin spotted Pond walking toward him, his entire face lit up—bright, radiant, and completely, entirely focused on Pond.
He didn't look at his phone. He didn't look around for anyone else. He just stood up, met Pond halfway on the path, and caught Pond’s hands in his own.
"You're late," Phuwin teased softly, a mischievous glint returning to his eyes. "You have exactly twelve minutes left of our break before your engineering lecture."
"Is that so?" Pond smiled, the last lingering ache in his chest dissolving into the warm afternoon air. He pulled Phuwin closer by the waist, ignoring the few passing freshmen who giggled and pointed at the university's favorite couple. "Then I suggest we make every second count."
Phuwin stood on his tiptoes, pressing a sweet, unhurried kiss to Pond’s lips right there in the middle of the crowded courtyard—a clear, deliberate declaration to the entire campus that things were exactly as they were meant to be.
"Dim sum tonight at five?" Phuwin murmured against his lips.
"Five sharp," Pond promised, kissing him back. "I'll be waiting at the doors."
At 4:55 PM, Pond stood under the glowing red lantern outside Hao Chi Dim Sum, the small, family-owned diner tucked away in the quiet side street three blocks off-campus. The rain from yesterday had completely washed the city clean, leaving behind a cool evening breeze that smelled faintly of damp asphalt and blooming jasmine.
Pond reached into his pocket for his phone to check the time, but before he could press the screen, a pair of warm arms wrapped around his waist from behind.
Phuwin pressed his cheek against Pond’s back, burying his face into the soft denim of Pond’s jacket with a contented sigh. "I beat you," Phuwin murmured, his voice slightly muffled. "It's not five yet and I'm already here."
Pond turned in Phuwin’s hold, a quiet laugh escaping his lips as he wrapped his own arms around Phuwin’s shoulders, pulling him close. "You were waiting around the corner, weren't you?"
"I was here at four-forty," Phuwin admitted, pulling back just enough to look Pond in the eyes. A mischievous blush crept up his neck, but his gaze was entirely steady. "I wasn't going to risk being a minute late."
The elderly diner owner, a kindly woman who had known them since their freshman year, beamed as she ushered them toward their usual booth in the back corner. It was a cozy spot beside a round glass window overlooking the alleyway, lit by the low amber glow of a paper lamp.
"The usual for the university's favorite sweethearts?" she asked warmly, wiping down the table with a rag. "We missed you two last night."
"The usual, Aunty," Phuwin answered with a gentle smile. "Double order of the steamed shrimp dumplings and two custard buns."
As soon as she walked away, Phuwin reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone, and deliberately switched it to Do Not Disturb. With a clear, unhurried motion, he slid it deep into the bottom of his backpack and zipped it shut, setting the bag on the floor.
Pond watched the gesture, his dark eyes softening as a quiet warmth bloomed in his chest. "You don't have to completely cut off the world, Phu."
"The world can wait," Phuwin said firmly, reaching across the small table to entwine his fingers with Pond's. His thumb brushed soothingly over Pond's knuckles, tracing the familiar lines of his hands. "For the next two hours, my world is sitting right across from me."
When the bamboo steamers arrived, filling the space between them with curling plumes of fragrant steam, the lingering weight of the past two weeks finally melted away entirely. Phuwin carefully picked up a translucent dumpling with his chopsticks, dipped it in soy sauce, and held it out toward Pond’s mouth.
"Open up," Phuwin coaxed teasingly.
Pond raised an eyebrow, a fond smirk touching his lips. "You know I have hands, right?"
"Pond Naravit, eat the dumpling before I eat it myself," Phuwin huffed softly, his cheeks dusting pink.
Pond leaned forward and bit into the dumpling, the rich, savory flavor hitting his palate, but his eyes never left Phuwin’s face. "Delicious," Pond murmured, leaning across the narrow table to press a quick, soy-sauce-scented kiss to the corner of Phuwin’s mouth.
Phuwin gasped slightly, swatting Pond’s shoulder with a grin. "Hey! Aunty is right over there!"
"Let her look," Pond said smoothly, leaning back into his seat with a relaxed, triumphant expression. "She knows we’re celebrating our five-and-a-half years."
They ate slowly, savoring not just the food, but the effortless rhythm that had belonged to them for half a decade. They talked about Pond’s upcoming midterms, Phuwin’s architecture history paper, and the silly campus gossip they had missed sharing with each other over the last two weeks. There were no urgent phone calls, no distracted glances at a buzzing screen, and no rushed goodbyes.
Later, as they walked back to their shared apartment under the soft glow of the streetlamps, Phuwin kept his fingers firmly laced with Pond's. Their shadows stretched out behind them on the pavement, merged into one.
"Pond?" Phuwin spoke up softly, his eyes fixed on the path ahead.
"Hmm?"
"Yesterday... when you pulled your hand away under the umbrella," Phuwin paused, his voice faltering slightly at the memory. He swallowed hard, squeezing Pond’s hand tighter. "My heart stopped. I don't think I've ever been that scared in my life."
Pond stopped walking, turning to face Phuwin right under the golden light of a streetlight. He stepped closer, taking both of Phuwin’s hands in his and bringing them up to his chest, right over his beating heart.
"I pulled away because I was hurt, Phu," Pond said gently, his voice deep and steady. "Not because I stopped loving you. Five years doesn't just erase because of a rough few weeks. I was never going to leave."
Phuwin looked up, his dark eyes shimmering with unspoken devotion. "Good. Because you're stuck with me. For the rest of university, and after."
"Is that a promise?" Pond asked softly, a warm, radiant smile spreading across his face.
"It's a fact," Phuwin declared, standing on his toes to press his lips against Pond's in a deep, lingering kiss that tasted like sweet custard and smelled like the crisp night air.
When they finally broke apart, Pond threw his arm over Phuwin’s shoulders, pulling him flush against his side as they resumed walking toward home. The campus knew them as the sweet couple that never fought—but tonight, they knew they were something even better. They were a couple that knew how to find their way back to each other, no matter what tried to pull them apart.
That night, wrapped in the warmth of their shared bed with the rain long gone and the quiet hum of the city outside their window, Phuwin lay with his head resting on Pond’s chest. Pond’s fingers were absently tracing light patterns over the small of Phuwin’s back, a slow, grounding rhythm that always anchored them after a long day.
"Do you remember," Phuwin murmured into the quiet room, his voice soft and heavy with lingering sleep, "the very first time you ever spoke to me?"
Pond let out a low, chest-rumbling chuckle. "How could I forget? I thought you were going to have me executed by the student council."
*flashback*
Long before they were the university's golden couple, before the five years of hand-holding and quiet library dates, there were two middle school boys who were hopelessly, disastrously in love with each other—and completely, utterly terrified to admit it.
It was Phuwin who had fallen first.
Back then, Phuwin was a quiet, bookish thirteen-year-old who kept his head down, his uniform buttoned to the collar, and his feelings tightly locked away behind a calm, impassive mask. He had noticed Pond on his very first week of middle school. Pond was bright, loud, and effortlessly magnetic, the kind of boy who radiated warmth like a summer sun. Phuwin used to sit on the concrete steps during morning assembly, pretending to read his literature textbook while secretly watching the way Pond laughed with his friends, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
Phuwin wanted him. He wanted to step into that warm orbit so badly it made his ribs ache, but he kept his feelings deeply buried. To Phuwin, a boy as ordinary and quiet as himself had no place beside someone like Pond Naravit. So he chose silence, satisfied with just stealing glances from across the courtyard.
What Phuwin never suspected, however, was that Pond had been staring right back.
Pond’s heart had been compromised on a humid Tuesday afternoon at the food stalls right outside the middle school gates. Pond had been standing with his friends, waiting for his iced tea, when he turned around and caught sight of Phuwin sitting at a wooden picnic table with three classmates.
Phuwin was eating steamed pork dumplings. His cheeks were puffed out like a squirrel’s, a tiny speck of sweet soy sauce resting near the corner of his lower lip as he chewed happily, his dark eyes wide and relaxed in a way Pond had never seen before.
In that exact second, Pond’s brain completely short-circuited. He had frozen mid-sentence, dropping his wallet onto the dirt ground as a strange, overwhelming warmth bloomed in his chest. He was utterly, helplessly stunned. He couldn't take his eyes off the quiet boy with the dumpling-stuffed cheeks. But Pond, despite his outgoing shell, was terrified of being rejected. He was convinced that if he walked up to the pristine, smart boy, Phuwin would give him a cold glare and walk away.
So, for four full months, both of them carried the exact same massive, secret crush, walking past each other in the hallways with stiff shoulders and averted eyes, neither having any idea the feeling was entirely mutual.
Until the soccer ball incident.
It happened during an after-school practice on a breezy Thursday. Pond was playing midfield, his jersey soaked in sweat, his hair pushed back with a black band. He took a hard, ambitious shot toward the goal, but his cleat slipped on a patch of damp turf.
The ball soared off course, curving wildly over the top bar and sailing straight over the low perimeter fence toward the paved walkway.
Thump.
Pond’s soul instantly left his body.
The soccer ball hadn't hit hard—it had bounced off the dirt shoulder of a boy walking past with a stack of heavy library books—but the moment Pond recognized the navy blue backpack and the neat black hair, his blood ran completely cold.
It was Phuwin.
Oh god, Pond thought, his heart dropping into his stomach. I killed him. He’s going to hate me forever. He’s going to report me to the principal and never look at me again.
Panic seizing every muscle in his body, Pond didn't even bother vaulting the fence properly; he practically threw his body over the metal rail and sprinted across the concrete at full speed, his cleat studs clicking frantically against the pavement.
"I'm sorry! I am so, so sorry!" Pond gasped, skidding to a halt right in front of Phuwin, nearly tripping over his own feet in his desperation.
Phuwin had stumbled back a step, holding his left shoulder where the ball had clipped him, his stack of textbooks teetering in his arms.
Pond stood over him, broad shoulders trembling, his hands hovering frantically in the air like he wanted to touch Phuwin to check for injuries but was too terrified to cross the boundary. His big dark eyes were wide with genuine terror. "Are you okay?! It didn't hit your face, right? Please tell me you're not bleeding! Please don't be mad at me!"
Meanwhile, inside Phuwin’s head, an absolute storm was raging.
The boy he had been agonizingly in love with for months was standing five inches away from him. Pond smelled like fresh grass, sunshine, and sweat; his chest was heaving, his face flushed, and he was looking at Phuwin like Phuwin was made of delicate porcelain that he had accidentally cracked.
Phuwin’s heart was hammering so violently against his ribs he was genuinely afraid Pond could hear it. His face flushed a deep, furious crimson, spreading all the way down to his neck.
"I-I'm fine," Phuwin squeaked out, his voice cracking slightly on the first word. He cleared his throat frantically, trying to summon every ounce of dignity he possessed while clutching his textbooks to his chest like a shield. "It... it didn't hurt. Really. Just my arm."
"Let me see," Pond pleaded instantly, dropping to his knees on the hard pavement so he was eye-level with Phuwin’s shoulder, his expression so intensely worried it was almost comical. "Is it bruised? I can take you to the infirmary! I can carry your books! I can carry you!"
Phuwin nearly choked on his own breath. Carry me?!
"No! No infirmary!" Phuwin squealed, his cheeks burning hotter than the sun. "I'm totally fine, really! You don't have to carry anything!"
Pond slowly blinked, looking up from his kneeled position. From this angle, he could see the bright, rosy flush covering Phuwin’s cheeks, the way his dark eyelashes fluttered nervously, and the slight tremble in his fingers. He didn't look angry at all. He looked... completely flustered.
A slow, tentative relief washed over Pond, followed immediately by that same breath-stealing realization he had felt at the dumpling stall four months prior: He's so pretty.
"You're really not mad?" Pond asked softly, standing up slowly, though he still didn't step away.
"I could never be mad at you," Phuwin blurted out before his brain could filter the words. The moment they left his mouth, Phuwin froze, his eyes widening in horror at his own confession.
Pond stared at him. Then, a slow, radiant grin spread across Pond’s face—the very first genuine smile he had ever directed solely at Phuwin. "Yeah? Why not?"
Phuwin had ducked his head, hiding his blushing face behind his stack of books, but the corner of his lips had twitched upward into a shy, breathless smile. "Just... because."
-
Back in their university apartment, Pond chuckled softly at the memory, tightening his arms around Phuwin’s waist in the dark.
"I ran back to the locker room after that and told my friends I was going to marry you," Pond admitted, leaning down to press a warm kiss into the crown of Phuwin’s head. "I didn't even know your name yet, but I knew I was done for."
Phuwin smiled into the dark, resting his hand over Pond’s heart, feeling its steady, familiar beat. "I went home that day and wrote your name on the inside cover of my literature notebook five times."
"Five years later," Pond whispered, his thumb lightly stroking Phuwin’s hip, "and you're still stuck with the guy who hit you with a soccer ball."
"Best mistake you ever made," Phuwin murmured fondly, closing his eyes as he drifted off to sleep, wrapped safely in the arms that had been holding him—and only him—for as long as he could remember.
Two years later, the central courtyard of the university was a sea of black graduation gowns, flying caps, and bright bouquets of flowers. The late afternoon sun painted the brick buildings in a deep, golden light, casting long shadows across the pathways where Pond and Phuwin had walked together every day for seven years.
They were still the university's golden couple, right up to the very last minute.
"One more! Stay right there, don't move!"
Prim shouted from behind a professional DSLR camera, lowering it just long enough to wave her hand frantically at the pair. She had grown so much over the last two years—confident, thriving in her own major, surrounded by her own close group of friends—and completely, fiercely supportive of the two boys in front of her.
Pond laughed, pulling Phuwin tighter against his side by the waist. Phuwin’s graduation cap was slightly tilted, his sash gleaming in the sunlight, his hand resting securely over Pond’s chest. The camera shutter clicked, capturing the radiant, effortless warmth that radiating between them.
"Got it! Perfect!" Prim cheered, running over to show them the screen. In the photo, Pond was looking down at Phuwin with an expression of pure, unadulterated adoration, while Phuwin was laughing, his dark eyes crinkling at the corners—looking remarkably like the thirteen-year-old boy sitting at a middle school dumpling stall.
"Thank you, Prim," Phuwin said warmly, giving his childhood friend a brief, fond hug. "Go find your parents, we'll catch up with you at the faculty dinner later."
Once the crowd of classmates and families began to thin, drifting off toward the main gates, Pond laced his fingers through Phuwin’s, giving a soft, familiar tug.
"Come on," Pond whispered, a secretive smile touching his lips. "I want to show you something before we give our robes back."
He led Phuwin away from the noisy plaza, down the familiar paved path, around the corner, and straight into the quiet shadow of the central library.
There it was—their stone bench, tucked beneath the sprawling branches of the ancient banyan tree. The afternoon breeze rustled through the leaves, dappling the concrete with patches of shade and sunlight, exactly as it had every day at 1:50 PM for the last seven years.
Phuwin smiled, letting out a soft, contented breath as they sat down side-by-side, their heavy velvet gowns spilling over the stone seat.
"Hard to believe we're actually done," Phuwin murmured, resting his head on Pond’s broad shoulder. "No more running across campus between classes. No more stealing twenty minutes on this bench."
"We don't need to steal twenty minutes anymore," Pond said softly. He reached into the deep pocket of his graduation gown and pulled out a small, velvet-lined box, setting it gently on Phuwin’s lap.
Phuwin blinked, sitting up straight. "Pond... what is this?"
"Open it."
With slightly trembling fingers, Phuwin opened the box. Inside rested a sleek, silver house key attached to a small, custom brass keychain. Carved delicately into the metal were two tiny items: a miniature soccer ball and a tiny steam basket holding two dumplings.
Phuwin let out a breathless, watery laugh, his hand flying to his mouth as tears instantly welled in his eyes.
"Our new apartment," Pond explained, his voice thick with emotion, his eyes searching Phuwin’s face. "The lease starts next Monday. It's ten minutes from your architecture firm, and it has a balcony with enough sunlight for all those plants you want to grow. No more dorm rooms. No more shared bunk beds."
Pond reached out, gently cupping Phuwin’s cheek with his warm palm, wiping away a single tear that had spilled over.
"Seven years ago, I almost knocked you unconscious with a soccer ball because I was too terrified to tell you you were the prettiest person I’d ever seen," Pond murmured, a soft, fond smirk touching his lips. "Two years ago, I thought I was losing you under an umbrella in the rain. But today... today we walk out of those gates together, and we go home to a place that belongs to us."
Phuwin stared down at the little keychain, clutching the silver key tightly in his fist like it was the most precious treasure in the world. He turned his head, pressing his lips firmly against Pond’s in a deep, lingering kiss that tasted like tears, sunshine, and a promise that had been seven years in the making.
When they finally pulled back, resting their foreheads together in the quiet shade of the library tree, Phuwin slipped the key ring onto his index finger.
"You know," Phuwin whispered, his eyes shining with boundless love, "for someone who got stunned by a kid eating dumplings, you did pretty well for yourself, Pond Naravit."
Pond chuckled, leaning in to press one more kiss to the tip of Phuwin’s nose. "I did incredible, Phuwin. I got you."
Hand in hand, keys in pocket, and their caps held high, the university sweethearts stood up from their bench one last time, turning their backs on their student days and walking together toward the rest of their lives.