Paris felt different up close.
Not like the pictures. Not like the movies.
It was louder. Messier. Alive in a way that made Wut feel like he'd stepped into something that didn't need him to exist.
"I'm hungry," Pheet announced.
"You're always hungry," Wut replied.
"That's because I'm always alive."
"…That doesn't make sense."
"It does to me."
Wut sighed, scanning the street. Cafés lined the sidewalks, the smell of coffee and baked goods drifting through the air like a personal attack.
"Let's just pick something," he said.
"You pick."
"No, you pick."
"No, you—"
"I'll pick."
They both turned.
Phol stood there, already walking toward a small café across the street.
Wut frowned.
"…Since when does he decide things?"
"Since always," Pheet said, following him. "You just didn't notice."
That again. What do I have to notice anyways?
The café was small, warm, filled with soft chatter and clinking cups.
They sat by the window.
Pheet immediately grabbed the menu.
Wut pretended to read his.
Phol didn't even open his.
"You already know what you want?" Wut asked.
"Yes."
"Of course you do."
Wut looked back at his menu.
The words blurred.
Not because he couldn't read them.
Because he could feel it again.
That weird awareness.
Like sitting next to Phol made the air… heavier.
More noticeable.
More—
"Are you going to keep staring at the same page?"
Wut snapped out of it.
"I'm reading."
"You haven't turned the page."
"…It's a short menu."
Phol didn't respond.
Wut hated that.
After ordering, Pheet leaned back in his chair.
"I'm going to the bathroom," he said.
Wut nodded.
Phol said nothing.
Pheet stood.
Paused.
Looked at both of them.
Then smiled.
A suspicious smile.
"I'll be right back."
He left.
Silence. Immediate.
Heavy.
Wut tapped his fingers against the table.
Once.
Twice.
Three times—
"Stop."
Wut froze.
"…What now?"
"You're tapping."
"So?"
"It's annoying."
"Then don't listen."
Phol looked at him.
"I'm trying not to."
Wut stared back.
"…You're impossible."
"And yet you keep talking to me."
That hit.
Wut looked away first.
"…You started it."
"No," Phol said calmly. "You did."
Wut blinked.
"I did not."
Phol tilted his head slightly.
"Messages. Pheet's friend ."
Wut's heart stopped.
Just for a second.
"…What?"
"You texted me first."
Wut laughed.
Too quickly.
"I don't even have your number."
Phol watched him.
Too closely.
"…Right." Phol pretended to hide his phone then immediately pulled it out while showing his messages with Wut
"Then how do you explain... THIS? You can't just respond to an unknown number."
Wut swallowed.
What's with the saved name? PHEEET
The waiter arrived with their drinks.
Perfect timing.
Wut grabbed his immediately, sipping just to avoid speaking.
Phol didn't look away.
Not even once.
Minutes passed.
Pheet still hadn't returned.
Wut checked his phone.
Nothing.
"…Where is he?"
"Gone," Phol said.
"What?"
"He left."
"Left where??"
Phol shrugged.
"Somewhere else."
Wut stared at him.
"You're telling me he just abandoned us??"
"Yes."
"…That traitor."
Another silence.
This one… different.
Less awkward.
More… contained.
Like something waiting to happen.
Wut shifted in his seat.
"…So."
"So?"
"So… what are you actually doing here?"
Phol looked out the window.
"Work."
"You already said that."
"And it's still true."
Wut leaned forward slightly.
"That's not all."
Phol's gaze flicked back to him.
"No?"
"No."
Wut held his stare.
"You don't do 'coincidences.'"
Phol didn't answer.
But he didn't deny it either.
Wut's chest tightened.
"…You're weird."
Phol's lips curved slightly.
"I've been told."
Outside, the city moved like nothing mattered.
Inside, time slowed just a little.
Wut exhaled softly.
"…I've never been here before."
"I know."
Wut blinked.
"…How would you know that?"
Phol looked at him.
"I pay attention."
There it is again.
That line.
That feeling.
Wut looked down at his drink.
"…That's creepy."
"It's accurate."
A message popped up on Wut's phone.
Pheet:
Emergency. Don't wait for me. Explore without me
Wut stared at the screen.
"…He's dead to me."
Phol glanced at the message.
"Looks like it's just us."
Wut locked his phone.
"…Unfortunately."
Phol stood.
"Come on."
Wut frowned.
"Where?"
Phol held the door open.
"You said you've never been here before."
Wut hesitated.
Just for a second.
Then stood.
"…If you get me lost, I'm blaming you."
Phol met his eyes.
"You already do."
Wut scoffed.
"Because it's always your fault."
Phol didn't argue.
The streets stretched ahead of them.
Unfamiliar.
Endless.
Full of possibilities.
And somehow—
Wut felt like getting lost wouldn't be the worst thing.
Not today.