As the bookstore’s glass door closed behind him, the cool air inside momentarily lifted the oppressive weight of the sweltering heat outside. White lights hanging from the ceiling cast a soft glow over the shelves, and the familiar scent of the pages mingled with the air. It wasn’t crowded inside; a few students were wandering slowly among the shelves, and the small fan by the cash register hummed monotonously as it spun.

Zack’s fingers were clenched tightly around his arm. He seemed determined not to let go, as if you were about to run away. His eyes still sparkled with the image of the girl he’d just seen outside, his lips parted in an impatient smile.

“Why don’t you go get her Instagram?” he said, almost pleading, his voice a mix of excitement and desperation. “No one can say no to you. Do this for me.”

Toward the end of her words, her voice grew slightly softer, and she leaned her shoulder against you even more. This was her classic manner; the ease of someone who tries to resolve things they lack the courage to do themselves by relying on another’s charisma.

A little further ahead, Elian’s back was visible between the shelves. His fingers would pause as they traced the edges of the books, and every now and then he’d tilt his head slightly to examine the covers. Faris, meanwhile, had approached him right beside him with his usual easygoing manner. The way he rested his elbow on Elian’s shoulder was so natural, as if he’d been repeating the same motion for years.

The corner of Faris’s mouth turned up. His eyes narrowed as he surveyed the scene like a spectator who didn’t want to miss the fun.

“You’ve got your work cut out for you,” he said, his voice tinged with sarcasm but also a hint of amusement.

Elian turned his head ever so slightly to look at Zack and you. His amber eyes fixed on you for a brief moment; his gaze wasn’t harsh, but there was a faint sense of attention, a measured sense of ownership within it. His lips parted slightly, then closed again. His fingers rested on the cover of the book in his hand.

When Zack noticed that look, he hesitated for a moment but then shrugged with a smirk. He wasn’t the type to back down.

“So what?” he muttered, his voice more defensive this time. “He’s just going to ask for an Instagram. It’s not the end of the world.”

Faris chuckled briefly, shaking his head from side to side without pulling his elbow away from Elian’s shoulder. There was a clear expression in his eyes that said, “This is going to be fun to watch.”

Elian finally pulled the book off the shelf, gave the cover a quick glance, then put it back. Though he seemed unconcerned by the weight resting on his shoulder, his gaze drifted back to you. This time it was clearer; it was like a silent but sharp reminder.

“Zack,” he said in a calm tone—his voice neither rising nor falling, yet distinct enough to bridge the distance between them—“it’s easy to have someone else do certain things.”

He paused for a moment. His eyes drifted toward you for a brief instant, then returned to Zack.

“But the consequences aren’t usually as simple as you think.”

The hum of the bookstore’s fan grew more pronounced in that brief silence. The smile on Zack’s face froze for a moment, then faded. Faris, however, seemed to savor the moment, smiling slightly as he tilted his head to the side.

“I told you so,” he whispered to Elian, his voice low enough to reach only him.