The rain hadn’t stopped in three days.

Pond stood by the window of their shared dorm, watching water run down the glass like veins. Across the room, Phuwin was sprawled on the bed, one leg dangling over the edge, tapping away on his phone like the storm outside didn’t exist.

They weren’t supposed to be here alone. The rest of their acting class had gone home for the mid-semester break, but Pond stayed back because of rehearsals. And Phuwin? He never gave a reason. He just showed up, suitcase in hand, grinning like he knew something Pond didn’t.

Pond had always thought of Phuwin as annoying — charmingly so, maybe — but still annoying. The kind of boy who never shut up in the car, who always stole the last piece of toast, who said things with his eyes before he said them with words. And yet, Pond never told him to stop. Not really.

On the second night, the power went out. Phuwin lit a candle and set it between them on the floor. “Scared of the dark?” he teased, but his voice softened when Pond didn’t reply.

They talked. Not just surface-level stuff, but real things. Family. Regrets. Dreams that felt too big for boys like them. At some point, Phuwin leaned his head on Pond’s shoulder, and Pond didn’t move. Didn’t even breathe.

“I think I’ve always liked you,” Phuwin said, almost too quietly to hear. Pond stared at the flickering candle, heart hammering, unsure whether he was terrified or thrilled.

The next morning, everything was normal again. Phuwin acted like nothing had happened. And Pond let him.

Until today.

Phuwin had fallen asleep with his phone still in hand. His face looked different when he wasn’t wearing that half-smirk — younger, softer, like someone who still believed in promises. Pond walked over, took the phone gently, and placed it on the desk.

He hesitated.

Then he reached out and brushed a strand of hair from Phuwin’s forehead.

It was such a small thing. But it felt enormous.

Phuwin stirred but didn’t open his eyes. “Are you watching me sleep? That’s kinda creepy,” he mumbled.

“Shut up,” Pond whispered, cheeks flushing.

Silence.

Then, Phuwin’s voice, quieter now. “…But do you want to talk about that night? Or should we keep pretending it didn’t happen?”

Pond took a breath.

Then asked, just loud enough to break the air between them: “If I told you I can’t stop thinking about you… what would you say?”