Chapter 9

The campus was almost empty by the time Perth finally left the sports building.

Practice had ended over an hour ago, but he had stayed behind again, running drills until exhaustion dulled his thoughts a little. The evening air felt cooler now, carrying the faint scent of rain from earlier. Streetlights cast pale reflections across the wet pavement leading toward the parking lot.

Perth walked slowly with his bag hanging from one shoulder until distant laughter caught his attention.

At first, he ignored it.

Then he heard Santa’s name.

His steps stopped immediately.

Two guys stood near the vending machines beside the parking area, partially blocking the narrow path. Santa faced them with visible discomfort, fingers tightening around the strap of his bag while the men laughed carelessly in front of him.

“Come on,” one of them said with a smirk. “You seriously believed Perth liked you?”

The other laughed louder. “That’s honestly embarrassing.”

Santa’s expression remained controlled, but Perth could see the tension in his shoulders even from several feet away.

“You should’ve known someone like him would never be interested in someone like you,” the first one continued mockingly.

Perth felt anger rise instantly in his chest.

The second guy shook his head dramatically. “I mean, what were you thinking? Perth flirts with literally everyone. You actually thought you were special?”

Santa looked away, jaw tight.

That was enough.

Perth started walking toward them before he even fully realized it. One of the men noticed him first.

“Oh,” he said, grinning. “Perfect timing.”

Santa turned immediately. The second his eyes met Perth’s, something unreadable crossed his face before he looked away again.

The other guy laughed awkwardly. “We were just talking about you.”

Perth ignored him completely. His attention stayed on Santa standing there silently under the dim parking lights, looking like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole.

Guilt twisted violently inside Perth’s chest.

This was happening because of him. Because of one stupid decision that had spiraled into hurting the one person he never wanted to hurt.

Perth finally looked at the two men, expression hardening. “Move.”

The sharpness in his voice made them pause.

“We’re joking around,” one of them replied defensively.

“Does he look like he’s laughing?”

Neither answered.

Perth stepped closer, anger becoming harder to control with every second. “You don’t get to talk to him like that.”

The first guy scoffed. “Why are you acting offended? We’re telling the truth.”

“No,” Perth said coldly. “You’re acting like assholes.”

The second one snorted. “So what? You suddenly care now?” He glanced toward Santa mockingly. “A little late for that, isn’t it?”

Perth’s jaw tightened sharply. “This whole thing was my fault,” he said firmly. “Not his.”

The men exchanged surprised looks.

“I made the bet,” Perth continued. “I lied to him. So if you want to talk shit about someone, then talk about me.”

But instead of backing off, the first guy laughed again.

“Still doesn’t change the fact he fell for it.”

The second one smirked toward Santa. “Honestly, anyone with common sense would’ve known better. You’re so fucking stupid.”

Something inside Perth snapped. Before he could think properly, he grabbed the front of the guy’s shirt harshly, shoving him backward against the vending machine with a loud metallic sound.

“Say that again.”

The entire atmosphere shifted instantly. The guy’s expression changed from smug to startled while Perth stood in front of him breathing hard, days of frustration and guilt crashing together all at once.

The second man stepped forward immediately. “Hey, what the hell is wrong with you?”

Perth barely heard him. All he could think about was the look on Santa’s face moments earlier. Hurt. Humiliated. Forced to stand there listening to strangers tear him apart because of Perth’s mistake.

And suddenly Perth wanted to hit something.

“You don’t know anything about him,” Perth said through clenched teeth.

The guy shoved against Perth’s arm. “Let go of him.”

Perth was already ready to swing.

Then a hand grabbed his wrist.

“Perth.”

Santa’s voice cut through the anger instantly.

Perth froze.

Santa stood beside him now, grip firm despite the nervous tension still visible in his expression.

“Stop.”

Perth looked at him, breathing unevenly.

For a second, neither moved.

Santa shook his head faintly. “It’s not worth it.”

The words settled heavily between them.

Perth slowly loosened his grip on the guy’s shirt before stepping back. His hands still trembled slightly with leftover anger.

The two men looked uncomfortable now, clearly no longer enjoying the situation.

Perth stared at them coldly. “You don’t get to humiliate him because of something I did,” he said quietly. “So leave.”

Neither argued this time.

After a few awkward muttered insults under their breath, both of them walked off quickly toward the parking lot.

Silence settled immediately once they were gone. Perth dragged a hand through his hair, still trying to calm down. Adrenaline pulsed heavily under his skin. Beside him, Santa let go of his wrist slowly.

“You didn’t have to start a fight,” Santa murmured.

Perth looked at him, frustration and guilt mixing painfully in his chest. “They were talking about you like you were some kind of joke.”

Santa lowered his eyes briefly. “People already are.”

The quiet sadness in his voice hurt more than any insult those guys had thrown earlier.

Perth swallowed hard. “This is my fault,” he admitted again, softer this time. “All of it.”

Santa stayed silent.

Perth forced himself to continue despite the shame burning in his chest.

“You trusting me doesn’t make you stupid.” His voice tightened slightly. “It makes me the idiot for ruining it.”

Santa finally looked at him properly then, something uncertain flickering across his expression. And for the first time since everything fell apart, Perth thought he saw the smallest crack in the wall Santa had built between them.

The parking lot had grown almost completely silent after the two men left.

Only the distant hum of traffic and the soft rustling of trees filled the space between them now. Perth stood a few feet away from Santa, shoulders still tense from the fight he almost started. His pulse had finally begun slowing down, but the anger inside him had turned into something heavier.

Guilt.

Santa adjusted the strap of his bag quietly, avoiding Perth’s eyes again.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then Perth let out a slow breath. “I’m sorry.”

The words came out rougher than he intended.

Santa’s fingers tightened slightly around the strap.

Perth looked down briefly before continuing. “Not just about tonight. About everything.”

His throat felt tight suddenly.

“I know saying sorry doesn’t fix anything,” he admitted quietly. “I know I messed this up so badly that you probably hate me now.”

“I don’t hate you,” Santa said softly.

That somehow hurt even more.

Perth gave a small humorless laugh, dragging a hand across the back of his neck. “Maybe you should.”

Santa stayed silent.

The dim lights reflected faintly in the wet pavement between them while Perth tried to gather the courage to say the next part.

“You asked for space,” Perth said after a long pause. “And I haven’t really respected that.”

Santa finally looked at him then.

Perth forced himself to hold his gaze even though it made his chest ache.

“So I’ll stop.”

Santa frowned faintly.

“I won’t keep bothering you anymore,” Perth continued softly.

The words felt wrong leaving his mouth.

Painful.

But for once, this wasn’t about what Perth wanted.

“You deserve better than this whole mess,” he said quietly. “And if staying away is what you need, then I’ll do it.”

Santa’s expression shifted slightly, something uncertain flickering there for just a second.

But Perth stepped back before either of them could say anything else. “I really am sorry, Santa.”

Then he walked away. And this time, he actually meant it when he left.

*

The following weeks felt strangely quiet for Santa.

Perth no longer waited outside classrooms after lectures ended. The library felt oddly calm without him appearing out of nowhere to sit nearby. Even around campus, Santa stopped catching glimpses of him lingering close like he wanted to say something but didn’t know how anymore.

Perth kept his distance exactly like he promised.

And Santa slowly realized he had expected him not to.

One afternoon, Santa walked past the soccer field on the way back to his dorm and spotted Perth training alone under the fading sunlight. Usually, Santa would have immediately looked away and taken another path before Perth noticed him.

This time, Perth didn’t even lift his head. He stayed focused on the drill in front of him, running across the field again and again with exhausted determination.

Santa kept walking. Still, the image stayed in his mind longer than it should have.

The strange part was that Perth never approached him anymore, not even accidentally.

If they crossed paths in crowded hallways, Perth simply stepped aside quietly and continued walking. No lingering looks. No attempts at conversation. No excuses to stay close.

At first, Santa felt relieved.

Then the relief slowly turned into something else.

Something emptier.

“You’ve been distracted lately,” Phuwin commented one evening while they worked together in the library with Bonnie.

Santa frowned faintly. “I’m studying.”

“You’ve been staring at the same paragraph for five minutes,” Bonnie said.

Santa immediately looked back down at the book in front of him.

Phuwin watched him carefully for a moment before speaking again. “You miss him.”

Santa’s grip tightened slightly around his pen.

“No, I don’t.”

The answer came too quickly.

Phuwin and Bonnie did not look convinced, but thankfully they let the subject drop.

Still, the words stayed in Santa’s head afterward. Because maybe missing Perth was not exactly the right way to describe it.

Santa missed how things used to feel before everything became painful.

Before every memory turned complicated.

He missed laughing with Perth. Missed late study nights where Perth constantly distracted him on purpose just to make him smile. Missed how easy it once felt to be around him.

And now that Perth had truly stepped back, Santa was forced to confront something uncomfortable.

Part of him had grown used to Perth always finding his way back somehow.

A message.

A glance across campus.

An excuse to stay close.

But now there was nothing.

Only distance.

And for reasons Santa still refused to admit out loud, that absence hurt far more than he expected.

——
Hi✨
Do not hesitate to let a comment!!