"What?" Phol's eyes widened slightly.
Wut froze.
Right… what is wrong with me?
The question hung there, fragile and irreversible.
For a second, neither of them moved.
Then—
Phol leaned down, fingers gently but firmly lifting Wut's chin. His gaze lingered for just a moment before he pressed a soft kiss to Wut's cheek.
Light.
Careful.
Safe.
Wut's heart reacted instantly.
That stupid thing it always did—
But this time, worse.
Faster.
Too fast.
The air around him felt heavier, like it was pressing against his lungs, making it harder to breathe, harder to think.
He looked up, meeting Phol's eyes.
"That's not how you do it."
Before he could think—
Before he could stop himself—
Wut grabbed the back of Phol's head and pulled him down, closing the distance in one reckless motion.
Their lips met.
Not soft.
Not careful.
Messy. Unplanned.
Real.
And then—
Everything went black.
"…Seriously?"
Phol stood there, holding Wut's now unconscious body, his expression caught somewhere between disbelief and something far harder to name.
He let out a quiet breath.
"…Unbelievable."
Morning came too fast.
Wut shifted slightly, his head pounding in slow, unforgiving waves. His thoughts felt scattered, like pieces of something he didn't want to put back together.
He stared at the ceiling.
Same room.
Same clothes.
Nothing had changed.
…Right?
A flicker of memory.
A voice.
"That's not how you do it."
Wut sat up abruptly.
"No."
He pressed his hands over his face.
"We're not doing this."
But his heart betrayed him again—
That same uneven rhythm.
He groaned softly and got out of bed, moving quickly, like he could outrun the memory.
He couldn't.
"GOOOOD MORNING SUNSHINE—"
"What the heck, Pheet?!"
The door burst open, and Wut nearly jumped out of his skin.
"Orientation," Pheet said, grinning like this was the best day of his life. "You think I'd miss this one too?"
Wut blinked, still trying to catch up with reality.
Right.
Orientation.
Unfortunately.
"Anyways," Pheet continued, walking in like he paid rent, "you coming by the practice room later? They miss you."
"I think I'll pass," Wut muttered, slowly sitting up. "My head…"
He paused.
"…Have you seen Phol?"
Pheet shrugged. "Yeah. He opened the door earlier."
Wut's chest tightened.
"Oh."
The lecture hall was packed.
Voices overlapped, chairs scraped, footsteps echoed. Everything felt louder than it should.
Wut sat beside Pheet, his eyes drifting across the room without really seeing anything.
"…This program is not for everyone."
A voice from the front.
"…discipline, commitment—"
Wut leaned back slightly.
Not listening.
Not really.
His thoughts kept slipping.
Back.
To last night.
To the feeling—
He shifted in his seat.
Stop.
"…years of study, sacrifice—"
Why does it feel like I'm the only one not here?
Afterward, the hallway filled with movement.
"Wut."
He turned.
His mother stood there, calm but observant.
"You look tired."
"I'm fine."
Her eyes scanned his face briefly.
"Where's Phol?"
Wut looked away for a second.
"He's at work."
A pause.
She studied him, quiet, like she was waiting for something he wasn't going to give.
"…Alright," she said finally.
By the time they left, the sun had already started to dip.
Pheet stretched as they walked. "So, Phol's place?"
Wut nodded.
The elevator ride was quiet.
Too quiet.
Then—
ding
The doors opened.
They stepped out.
Pheet's phone buzzed.
He checked it and groaned. "…You've got to be kidding me."
"What?"
"My band. They need me. Now."
Wut raised an eyebrow. "Right now?"
"Yes, right now," Pheet said, already stepping back. "You'll survive."
The elevator doors began to close.
"Wait—"
"Good luck!"
And just like that—
He was gone.
Silence.
Wut stood alone in the hallway, staring at the closed doors.
Then slowly—
He turned toward the apartment.
This feels like a bad idea.
Before he could think further—
The door opened.
A hand grabbed his wrist.
And suddenly—
He was inside.
The door shut behind him with a soft but final click.
Wut's breath caught.
Phol stood in front of him.
Close.
Too close.
"Are you pretending," Phol asked quietly, "or do you actually not remember?"
Wut's heart stumbled.
"I don't know what you mean."
Phol didn't move.
"Nothing at all?"
Wut forced a shrug. "I remember drinking. Then I went to sleep."
A pause.
Phol stepped closer.
"So that's all you remember."
"Yeah."
Phol's gaze didn't waver.
"That's interesting," he said softly. "Because I remember something else."
The space between them disappeared.
Wut could feel it again—
That tightness.
That rhythm.
"Like what?" he asked quietly.
Phol tilted his head slightly.
"Do you want me to remind you?"
Wut didn't answer.
Didn't move.
Didn't step back.
Phol leaned in—
Slower this time.
Deliberate.
Close enough for Wut to stop him.
But he didn't.
Their lips met.
Not rushed.
Not forced.
Just—
There.
Wut's fingers curled slightly at his sides.
His mind went quiet.
No thoughts.
No denial.
Just the feeling.
When they pulled apart, they didn't move away.
Breathing.
Almost in sync.
And in that silence—
Everything felt different.