The hallway stretched endlessly.
Soft carpet. Dim lights. Too quiet.
Wut walked ahead, dragging his suitcase like it had personally betrayed him. Pheet followed, humming like he wasn't about to ruin Wut's sanity.
Phol?
Walking behind them. Calm. Unbothered. Like this was just another Tuesday.
Wut stopped in front of their room.
"Okay," he said, turning around. "Let's be clear."
Pheet blinked. "About?"
"You." Wut pointed at him. "Are not—"
"I booked one room," Pheet said.
Silence.
Wut stared.
"…You what?"
"One. Room."
"…Why."
"Budget."
"You just said we're guests."
"Budget mindset. Besides, I need to pay for uni."
Wut closed his eyes.
Breathed in.
Breathed out.
"I'm going home."
"You are home," Pheet said cheerfully. "For the next week!"
Wut turned slowly toward Phol.
"…Say something."
Phol leaned lightly against the wall.
"I don't mind."
Of course you don't.
Why would you ever mind anything.
The door opened.
Wut walked in first.
Then froze.
One bed.
One.
Single.
Bed.
Wut didn't move. Didn't blink. Didn't breathe.
Behind him, Pheet peeked in.
"Oh."
"OH???" Wut turned. "THAT'S ALL YOU HAVE TO SAY??"
Pheet scratched his head. "I thought it was two."
"You thought?"
"Optimistically."
Wut looked at Phol.
Phol looked at the bed.
Then at Wut.
"…We can manage."
Manage what?? A psychological breakdown??
Minutes later, the room was filled with tension, luggage, and one very loud silence.
Wut sat at the edge of the bed like it might explode.
Pheet casually flopped onto it.
"Comfortable," he said.
"Get up."
"No."
"Get up!"
"No !"
Wut turned to Phol.
"Say something useful."
Phol set his bag down neatly.
"There's a couch."
They all looked.
A small couch.
Tiny, but technically human-sized
Decorative, even.
Wut laughed.
Not a happy laugh.
A "this is my villain origin story" laugh.
"Okay," Wut said finally. "New plan."
He pointed.
"Pheet, couch."
"What?! Why me?"
"Because this is your fault."
Phol spoke before Pheet could argue.
"I'll take the couch."
Wut froze.
"…What?"
"It's fine," Phol said simply.
Pheet blinked.
"Wait, really?"
"Yes."
Wut stared at him.
Why does that feel… worse?
Night settled in.
Lights off.
City glowing faintly through the curtains.
Wut lay stiffly on one side of the bed.
Very aware.
Too aware.
Every sound felt amplified.
The rustle of sheets.
The faint hum of the AC.
And—
Phol.
Somewhere behind him.
On that too-small couch.
Wut turned slightly.
"…Are you awake?"
Silence.
Then—
"Yes."
Of course.
Wut hesitated.
Then—
"Why'd you take the couch?"
A pause.
"…Because it's easier."
"For who?"
"For you."
Wut blinked in the dark.
His chest did something weird.
He ignored it.
"…Are you actually planning to get back at me?"
Phol didn't answer immediately.
Then—
"I never said that."
Wut frowned.
"You act like it."
"Do I?"
"Yes."
Another pause.
Then, quieter—
"Then you're not paying attention."
Wut turned fully now, facing the direction of the couch.
"…What's that supposed to mean?"
No response.
"Hey."
Still nothing.
"…Did you fall asleep mid-conversation??"
Silence.
Wut stared into the dark.
Unbelievable.
He turned back around, pulling the blanket over his head.
Why is he like this?
Why is everything like this?
Across the room, Phol opened his eyes.
Staring at the ceiling.
Wide awake.
The next morning—
Wut woke up first.
He sat up slowly, hair a mess, brain still loading.
Then he looked toward the couch.
Empty.
He frowned.
Where did he— why do I keep thinking about him anyways?
The bathroom door opened.
Phol stepped out, half dressed like he is at home.
Of course he is.
Of course he wakes up early.
Of course he looks put together like he's about to star in a drama.
Wut squinted at him trying to avoid counting his abs for the nth time
"…Do you ever look tired?"
Phol adjusted his tower.
"Yes."
"When?"
"Not when you're looking."
A pause
"Which seems to be often. Now if you dont mind..., I'd like to finish getting dressed "
Wut blinked.
"…That was suspiciously smooth."
Phol didn't respond.
Pheet snored loudly from the bed.
Wut threw a pillow at him.
"Wake up, useless human."
Pheet groaned.
"Five more minutes…"
"We're in Paris."
"…Ten more minutes."
Later—
They stepped out into the city.
Paris.
Alive. Bright. Beautiful.
Wut looked around, momentarily forgetting everything.
"…Okay," he admitted. "This is nice."
Pheet grinned.
"Told you."
Phol stood beside them, quiet as always.
But his gaze?
Wasn't on the city.
It was on Wut.
Just for a second.
Before he looked away.