Chapter 10

Today was Friday, and it was game day. The soccer field was louder than usual that late afternoon.

Students crowded along the bleachers, cheering every time the university team pushed closer to the goal. The energy in the air felt sharp and restless, fueled by competitive chants, whistles, and the constant noise of sneakers sliding across the grass.

Santa had not planned on watching the game. Instead, he sat inside a small coffee shop near the economics building with Phuwin, half-listening to him complain about an assignment while absentmindedly stirring his iced drink.

Rain clouds gathered outside the windows, turning the late afternoon light soft and gray.

“You’re not even listening to me,” Phuwin said flatly.

Santa blinked. “I am.”

“You definitely aren’t.”

Before Santa could answer, the café door opened suddenly, letting in a burst of loud voices and humid air from outside.

Several students walked in at once, talking over each other excitedly.

“Did you see that?”

“He landed badly.”

“I heard he got knocked out.”

Santa barely paid attention at first.

Then someone said Perth’s name. His entire body went still.

“One of the soccer players got seriously hurt,” a girl near the counter said. “I think it was Perth.”

Another student nodded immediately. “They took him to the nurse’s office.”

Santa’s heart dropped so fast it almost hurt.

“What happened?” someone asked.

“I don’t know exactly,” the guy answered. “The other team crashed into him pretty hard. He couldn’t stand up afterward.”

Santa stared at the table.

Suddenly, the café felt too warm. Too loud. His thoughts started spiraling before he could stop them.

Couldn’t stand up.

Seriously hurt.

His chest tightened painfully.

Across from him, Phuwin noticed the immediate change in his expression. “Santa?”

Santa looked up quickly. “They said he got hurt.”

Phuwin frowned slightly. “It’s probably not that serious.”

But Santa was already standing.

The movement nearly knocked his chair backward.

“Hey,” Phuwin said, startled. “Where are you going?”

“The nurse’s office.”

The answer came instantly.

Santa grabbed his bag with trembling fingers, pulse beating too fast under his skin. His mind kept replaying the words he overheard, each version sounding worse than the last.

What if Perth hit his head?

What if something was broken?

What if he had been lying there alone this whole time?

Santa hated how quickly panic took over him. After everything that happened between them, he should not have reacted like this. But none of that mattered right now.

All he could think about was Perth getting hurt.

Phuwin stood up immediately and followed after him as Santa hurried out of the coffee shop into the crowded pathway outside.

“Santa, slow down,” Phuwin called while trying to catch up.

Santa barely heard him. His breathing felt uneven as he walked faster toward the medical building, ignoring the confused looks from passing students.

Every terrible possibility kept flashing through his head one after another. And the more he thought about it, the more terrified he became.

*

Santa pushed the nurse’s office door open so hard it slammed lightly against the wall.

Perth, sitting on one of the examination beds with an ice pack resting against his ankle, blinked in surprise.

Santa stood frozen near the entrance, breathing unevenly from rushing across campus. His hair was slightly messy from the wind outside, panic still written clearly across his face as his eyes searched the room frantically until they landed on Perth.

Alive.

Awake.

Completely fine.

Well, mostly fine.

Relief hit Santa so hard his knees almost gave out.

“Santa?” Perth said, confused.

The moment Perth spoke, something inside Santa finally snapped loose.

Without thinking, he crossed the room quickly and threw his arms around him.

Perth froze instantly. For a second, he looked too shocked to even react.

Santa held onto him tightly anyway, fingers gripping the back of his shirt while his heartbeat pounded painfully against his ribs.

The warmth of Perth being there, real and okay and breathing, made the panic finally start fading from his system.

Perth slowly recovered from the shock enough to move again. Carefully, he wrapped his arms around Santa in return.

“What happened?” he asked softly, still completely confused. “Why are you crying?”

Santa immediately pulled back slightly. “I’m not crying.”

His voice sounded unsteady enough to ruin the lie instantly.

Perth stared at him.

Only then did Santa realize how close they were standing, how tightly he had been holding onto him. His cheeks flushed faintly, but the embarrassment barely had time to settle because relief still overwhelmed everything else.

“I heard people talking,” Santa admitted breathlessly. “They said you got badly hurt during the game.”

Perth blinked once, then again.

“That’s why you ran here?”

Santa looked away awkwardly. “They made it sound so serious.”

A soft expression crossed Perth’s face so quickly Santa almost missed it.

“My ankle’s just lightly sprained,” Perth explained quietly. “The nurse said I’ll be fine in a few days.”

Santa’s shoulders visibly relaxed at the words.

Perth noticed immediately. And suddenly the reality of what had just happened fully settled into his chest.

Santa came running for him.

Despite everything between them.

Despite all the hurt Perth caused.

Santa still panicked at the thought of something happening to him.

The realization made something warm and painful twist inside Perth at the same time.

“You really thought I was dying or something?” he asked softly, unable to stop the small smile tugging at his mouth.

Santa frowned immediately. “Don’t joke about that.”

The answer came out sharper than expected.

Perth’s smile faded slightly, replaced by quiet surprise.

Because Santa genuinely sounded upset.

“It’s nothing really,” Perth said gently, lifting the ice pack slightly. “Just a light sprain, I’ll survive.”

Santa frowned at him.

Perth smiled faintly. “So you don’t need to worry that much.”

The words should have embarrassed Santa.

Instead, hearing Perth speak so casually after the horrible scenarios his mind created during the run to the nurse’s office only made relief settle deeper into his chest.

Still, Santa crossed his arms defensively. “People said you couldn’t stand up anymore.”

“I mean, technically I couldn’t for like thirty seconds.”

“Perth.”

“Okay, okay.” He laughed softly. “I’m sorry.”

The sound caught Santa off guard a little.

It had been a while since he heard Perth laugh normally around him.

Not forced. Not bitter. Just… familiar.

For a brief second, it almost felt like before.

Then Perth shifted slightly against the bed and glanced toward the window.

“So,” he asked casually, “Did we win the game?”

Santa stared at him.

For a moment, he genuinely thought he misheard.

“You’re seriously asking me that right now?”

Perth blinked innocently. “What?”

Santa looked at him in complete disbelief. “You got injured.”

“It’s barely an injury.” Perth leaned back slightly against the pillows. “For the record, we were winning before I got taken out.”

Santa shook his head slowly like he could not believe this conversation was real.

“You’re unbelievable.”

“Yeah,” Perth murmured quietly, eyes lingering on him a second too long. “You’ve said that before.”

Santa rolled his eyes softly, though the tension in his shoulders had eased a little now.

“Yes,” he answered finally. “Your team won.”

Perth’s face brightened immediately. “Really?”

Santa stared at him. “You’re way too happy for someone sitting in the nurse’s office.”

“We still won,” Perth said with obvious satisfaction.

Santa shook his head under his breath, unable to stop a small smile from appearing for the first time in days.

Perth noticed it instantly, and for a moment he just looked at him quietly.

The sight hit harder than expected. He had missed that smile so much. Not the polite ones Santa gave classmates or strangers. This one was softer, real enough to make warmth spread painfully through Perth’s chest.

Santa realized too late that Perth was staring.

The smile faded immediately as he looked away awkwardly. “Don’t make that face.”

“What face?”

“That one.”

Perth laughed quietly. “You mean my very charming face?”

Santa snorted softly despite himself.

The sound surprised both of them. Because it felt easy again. Dangerously easy.

The room fell quiet afterward, but this time the silence no longer felt suffocating. Outside the nurse’s office, distant voices echoed through the hallway while rain tapped lightly against the windows again.

And suddenly, despite the ache in his ankle and everything still broken between them, Perth felt lighter than he had in weeks.

*

The quiet feeling in the room lasted a little longer after that.

Santa stayed beside the examination bed while Perth rested against the pillows, the ice pack balanced carefully on his ankle. Outside, the hallway noises had faded again, leaving the office calm and strangely warm.

Then Perth suddenly frowned slightly. “My stuff’s still in the locker room.”

Santa looked up. “What?”

“My bag. My phone too.” Perth let out a quiet sigh. “I left everything there before the game.”

“Oh.”

For a second, Perth looked oddly hesitant, almost embarrassed. Then he glanced toward Santa carefully. “Can you call Phuwin for me?”

Santa blinked once. “Why?”

“So he can ask Pond to come pick me up.” Perth rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “I probably shouldn’t walk all the way back to my condo with this.”

Santa immediately frowned. “You’re going home alone?”

“I mean, Pond will drive me.”

“You just said you don’t even have your phone.”

Perth laughed softly. “That’s why I’m asking for help.”

Santa stayed quiet for a second before answering. “I can help you instead.”

The words came out naturally, almost before he fully thought about them.

Perth looked genuinely surprised. “You don’t have to do that.”

“It’s fine.”

“No, seriously.” Perth shook his head lightly. “I already stressed you out enough today.”

Santa crossed his arms. “You have a sprained ankle.”

“It’s barely sprained.”

“I don’t trust your judgment right now.”

That pulled another laugh out of Perth. Small and tired, but real.

Still, he shook his head again. “I don’t want to bother you.”

The answer made something tighten unexpectedly in Santa’s chest.

Because Perth sounded sincere.

Not teasing. Not trying to force closeness between them. If anything, he seemed careful now, almost too careful, like he was scared of crossing a line again.

Santa hated how strange that felt after spending days trying to get Perth to respect his boundaries.

“You’re not bothering me,” Santa said more quietly.

Perth looked at him for a moment, clearly unsure what to do with that answer.

Phuwin, who arrived not a long time after Santa, spoke from near the doorway. “I personally think making Pond drive all the way here when Santa’s literally offering help is stupid.”

Perth immediately pointed at him. “Nobody asked you.”

Phuwin shrugged innocently. “And yet I’m still right.”

Santa tried not to smile again.

Perth noticed anyway.

His expression softened slightly before he looked away toward the floor.

“You really don’t mind?” he asked quietly.

Santa hesitated only a second before answering.

“No.”

——
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