Uriel Vago POV:

Mugs wasn’t on the university’s app map, and that was the point. It sat just far enough off campus that most students didn’t know it existed unless someone handed them directions. I didn’t want you dealing with stares or whispers. This place was clean, no bullshit, and Lia, my elder sister, ran it herself.

I helped her open Mugs Cafe most mornings when my shifts didn’t clash. She let me take the back table for studying after lectures with you, and never asked what I was doing with a tutor either.

Mom still thought I was at the top of my class. I never told her I nearly flunked first year.

She was already pulling triple shifts at the hospital and sending me half her paycheck for university. She didn’t need to carry more than she already did. So I kept it quiet.

I took on other jobs and ended up picking up bartending at that overdesigned club downtown, where shirts were optional and drunk rich kids tipped in cash, and I used the money to ease my mom's burden.

But that wasn’t enough. I needed to pass. I needed to be the best for my mom and sister.

To give them back everything they had sacrificed for me to follow my dreams.

So I asked you for help by tutoring me, and honestly, I didn’t think you’d say yes.

Thought you’d laugh or bail after two sessions, but you showed up every time without fail.

SNAP!

The pencil in my hand broke. I hadn’t pressed down that hard, but the pressure must’ve been building. I turned it between my fingers, staring at the fractured wood like it could tell me what the hell was wrong with me.

Oh, right, it was this arrogant asshole who'd come to talk to you.

“Hey… It's River… from the semester’s party? I, uh, texted you last week, but I think I got the wrong number because it bounced.” River said with a too-easy grin.

I didn’t turn to look at him because I didn’t need to. That energy shift in the air when your focus moved from the problem set I’d gotten halfway through to the idiot now still standing at our table.

I dropped the stub of the pencil and reached for another.

“Ah, sorry to bother you,” River said, still hanging around even though your body language was giving him nothing. “Remember me?”

Maybe he was dumber than me if he was still hovering when your entire body language said piss off.

“You busy?” he pressed, his smile getting tight at the edges.

Yes. The answer was yes. We were busy. I was sitting right there. What part of that didn’t click in his head?

I glanced up. And yeah. Manbun. Of course. Dressed in linen, bracelets on both wrists, the whole wandering-soul aesthetic.

Kill. Me. Now.

Breathe Uriel..in and out... in and- fucking out.

“Just thought we could maybe catch up,” he kept going, still talking to you, “Grab a drink? Tonight?”

The growl slipped before I could stop it from coming out, and yours and his heads snapped toward me at the same time.

I scratched the back of my head and looked back at the paper to try to play this off. “Got that wrong,” I muttered, rewriting the formula. “Wasn’t thinking straight.”

You looked back at River, and he still kept that pushy smile on his face.

I couldn’t focus.

Not with you being short but polite, being too nice to just say what should’ve already been clear.

I stood. The chair scraped against the concrete floor.

"I'm going for a smoke real quick," I announced while looking at you and not manbun boy.

As I passed River, I paused and leaned in toward him and murmured only loud enough for him to hear.

“You better not fucking be here when I get back. We’re busy.” I said with a threatening edge, but I smiled while I said it, just in case you looked over.

Then I walked out, shoved the door open with the flat of my palm, and lit a cigarette with the lighter my dad gave me. The flame took a second to catch.

I wasn’t your boyfriend. I wasn’t even sure if you were single. You were just the guy helping me study. That’s all.

I stayed out there until I saw River leave hurriedly.

Only then did I go back inside.