Everything has a solution, right?
I mean, I broke a phone… and I either fix it or buy another one.
But that's the problem.
Every solution comes with a cost.
So what I'm wondering is… if everything between me and Phol is a problem that needs maintenance, does that mean the cost is heavier?
And if it is… do we both have to pay?
…
I don't even know what got into me last night.
Was it because I was drunk?
To be honest, I'm not known for having a high alcohol tolerance.
Or was it because, deep down, I knew I needed to do something?
Or maybe… it was just the way he was looking at me.
Like there was something unfinished between us.
…
This past week, I feel like I've found my second home.
Well… maybe third.
Pheet moved into my place and is taking care of everything there. He's been my best friend since forever, but I seriously hope he doesn't try cooking in my house.
…
Honestly, I don't know how to face Phol tomorrow.
Maybe I should just sleep in and wait until he leaves for work?
But what if he decides to work remotely again?
No, wait… I heard him say he'd be going in this week.
But what if he changes his mind after tomorrow?
Then I'll just wake up when he goes out for his morning jog.
Great plan.
But then… where would I go?
…
I actually like that guy.
Wait.
I mean—he's tall, smart, rich, handsome… cute… kissable.
Very kissable.
I want to kiss him again—
No.
Overall… I like the way he tries to protect me in every way.
The way he notices me in a world full of people.
And that brings me to one question.
Was it ever just a coincidence?
I mean, maybe the first time… even the second time.
But now?
I can't help but wonder if he knew me before… when I didn't know him at all.
…
Somewhere in the background, a faint beeping sound echoed.
It was familiar.
Too familiar.
Almost like… a hospital.
Wut closed his eyes, then slowly opened them again.
Bright lights.
White walls.
A strange room.
He was lying on a hospital bed—something that looked like a VIP ward.
"…Seriously?"
Something felt heavy on his arm.
He turned his head slightly and froze.
Someone was clinging to his arm like their life depended on it.
Fast asleep.
Of course.
Phol.
Wut lifted his free hand and gently brushed his fingers through Phol's soft hair… before stopping himself.
What am I doing?
And what is he doing here?
What even happened to me?
The door suddenly opened.
Wut quickly shut his eyes.
Footsteps.
Voices.
He recognized one immediately.
Pheet.
"When do you think he'll wake up?"
"Well, based on his vital signs, it should be within a day or two."
"But you've been saying that… since last week."
Last week?
What do you mean last week?
"We've done everything we can. The rest is up to him now."
Have I really been here for seven days?
Seven days?
I haven't even kissed Phol enough—
Okay, stop. Don't think about him.
"What do you mean 'up to him'? Doctors shouldn't be talking about fate, they should be—"
"…Pheet?"
Wut opened his eyes slowly.
Both of them turned.
"Wut?! You're awake—you're awake!"
Pheet rushed toward him like a kid who'd just found something he thought he lost forever.
The doctor let out a relieved sigh, quickly checking Wut's vitals before leaving the room.
"You're so noisy," Wut muttered.
Pheet was already hugging him, half crying.
"Why am I even here?"
"You don't remember?" Pheet pulled back slightly. "Last week, you had a fight with Phol. You ran upstairs, slipped, fell down the stairs, and passed out."
Wut frowned.
I don't remember any of that.
And I don't think I've ever had a fight with Phol.
"And why doesn't anything hurt?"
He turned his head slightly.
"…What is he doing here?"
Pheet glanced at Phol, still asleep.
"Him? He's been here the whole time. Blames himself for talking too loudly to you. Says he won't leave until you forgive him."
Wut blinked.
"…Since last week?"
Pheet nodded.
"Did he at least eat?"
"I… don't think so. Just the fruit I brought."
Wut stared at Phol.
Is this really the same person I know?
"Hey… Phol."
No response.
"Phol."
Still nothing.
"PHOL—"
Phol jolted awake, his head bumping into Wut's hand.
"I'm sorry, Wut! Please forgive me—I can't live without you. Please don't hate me."
The words came out too fast. Too practiced.
Wut slowly turned his head toward Pheet.
"…Has he been drinking?"
"I don't think so… maybe just hunger? Or something else?"
Wut looked back at Phol.
Those eyes.
How was he supposed to refuse that?
He slowly sat up and leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to Phol's forehead.
"It's not your fault," he said quietly. "There's nothing to forgive."
A pause.
"I've never hated you. And I never will."
Pheet's face lit up instantly.
"I KNEW IT—I KNEW IT!"
"Relax," Wut muttered. "When can I get discharged?"
Pheet calmed down just enough to call for a doctor.
"You're fine," the doctor said after a quick check. "No abnormalities. You can leave anytime."
He paused.
"You're lucky. A fall like that should've broken something."
Wut let out a small breath.
Yeah… weird.
Pheet's phone rang, and he stepped out to answer it.
The room fell quiet.
"Wut?"
Wut turned.
Phol was looking at him.
Really looking at him.
"Yeah?"
Phol hesitated.
Then—
"Wut, I love yo—"
"WUT! WAKE UP, IT'S ALREADY 10AM!"
Wut's eyes snapped open.
Dark ceiling.
Familiar room.
Phol's house.
"…Seriously?"