Chapter 4

The clatter of plates and the warm smell of garlic rice filled the breakfast table. William sat hunched over his meal, moving his spoon in slow circles like he was stirring thoughts instead of food. His parents, annoyingly cheerful for seven-thirty in the morning, chatted about weekend plans and neighborhood gossip.

They were acting normal. Too normal, considering last night’s dinner had ended with the words “We’ll make it official after Est graduation” hanging in the air like a chandelier about to fall.

William took a sip of his tea and nearly jumped when the front door creaked open. His mother perked up instantly. “Oh! That must be Est!”

William froze. “He—what? Why is he—”

“He’s giving you a ride, sweetheart. Your car is still at campus.” She said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“That doesn’t mean he has to—” But his mother was already halfway to the door, practically skipping. His father hid a smile behind his newspaper. “Be nice,” he murmured.

William glared at his egg.

A moment later, cheerful voices floated in from the entryway. “Est, dear! Come in, come in! Have you eaten? Should I pack something? William made a big fuss last night, but I know he eats terribly when he’s stressed.”

“M-Mom—!”

Est stepped into the dining room, eyes earnest, smile polite but soft around the edges. He was dressed neatly, duffle bag in hand. The faint scent of his cologne drifted in with him—clean, citrusy.

“Good morning,” Est said, giving a polite bow to William’s father before glancing at William. “Mom said I should pick you up.”

William wanted to crawl into the earth. “You didn’t have to.”

“He’s being shy,” his mother sing-songed. “Isn’t that cute?”

“Mom, please stop talking.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Est said gently, a tiny smile tugging at his mouth. “I don’t mind.”

Which somehow made it worse.

His mother leaned closer to Est, lowering her voice as if whispering but absolutely not whispering. “Take care of him, okay? Yesterday he didn’t even finish dessert, that’s how nervous he was—”

“MOM.”

Now his father joined in, resting his mug down with a small chuckle. “Drive safely, both of you. And talk things through. You two have a lot to figure out.”

“We’re literally just going to campus,” William said flatly.

His mother clasped her hands dramatically. “Ah, but the car is where all great conversations happen.” 

William stood up. “Okay. That’s enough parenting for today. We’re leaving.” As he grabbed his bag and fled, his mom called after them— “Est, dear! Make sure he eats something later!”

“I said I did eat—!”

Est chuckled under his breath, following William out the door.

The morning air was cool, sunlight slanting across the driveway. Est walked a step behind him, probably out of politeness. Or maybe because William was practically speed-walking to escape. “You okay?” Est asked softly.

“No,” William muttered. “They’re… them.”

Est smiled, warm and patient. “They’re excited.”

“They’re embarrassing.”

“They love you.” He hesitated. “And they’re happy about… everything.”

William’s heart tripped. He fiddled with the strap of his backpack. “…Let’s just go.”

Est unlocked the car. “Right.”

The moment William slid into the passenger seat beside Est, something in his chest tightened—not painfully, but sharply enough to remind him of every single thing he felt and wasn’t supposed to show. He wasn’t reluctant about the engagement. He’d never been. 

He was terrified of wanting it too much.

I want him to accept me because he wants to, not because their parents dreamed together, not because he respected the elder, not because it fit neatly into family expectations. He wanted Est to choose him. That was the fear sitting quietly under his ribs.

Est buckled his seatbelt, glanced over with that steady, unreadable calm, and William forced his spine straight.

Not the shy kid.
Not the flustered younger boy.
No. Starting today.

…Well, at least he could try.

“Ready?” Est asked. William nodded in a heartbeat too quick. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

The car hummed to life, the morning sunlight brushing across Est’s cheekbone. William tried to look out the window, but his traitor eyes kept drifting back. And suddenly—without warning—the memories from last night hit him all over again.

The road had been quiet. Est’s voice even quieter.

“In these two months,” Est had said, hands steady on the wheel, “I’ll try to understand you better. Properly.”

Properly.

That word had latched onto William’s heart like a hook.

“And if there’s something you want,” Est had added, soft but firm, “tell me. I’ll listen.”

William remembered gripping his thigh, fighting not to confess every hopeless feeling right there. And then Est had teased, “You don’t need to stare every time you get nervous.”

William almost jumped out of the moving vehicle.

The memory folded into the present so seamlessly William nearly forgot where he was for a second. Est noticed immediately. “You’re spacing out,” he said, lightly. “Are you still half-asleep?”

William tightened his jaw—not in anger, but in determination.

Okay. Aloof. Mature. Slightly mysterious. You can do this. Just be normal… or less abnormal.

“I’m thinking,” William said evenly.

“Dangerous,” Est murmured.

William turned his head just long enough to give him a flat, controlled look—one he normally wouldn’t dare. A quiet, don’t push it. Est’s brows lifted. Amusement flickered in his eyes… slowly… warmly. “Oh?” Est said, voice dropping into something teasingly curious. “What were you thinking about?”

Not you. Definitely not you. Absolutely not about your voice echoing in my skull since last night.

“Just… stuff.”

“…Stuff.”

“Yeah.”

Est hummed. “Very specific.”

William snorted under his breath before he could stop himself—too quick, too honest. And Est caught it. His smile deepened, barely-there but devastating.

“Are you trying to act tough this morning?” Est asked, far too perceptive. William huffed softly. “I’m not acting.” Est’s eyes flicked to him briefly. “No? That’s a shame. You were cute when you got all red last night.”

RED.
RED.
ABSOLUTELY RED.

William’s composure cracked for a fraction of a second but he steadied his voice. “I still can be. If you keep saying things like that.”

Est blinked—just once—thrown off for a split second before the smile returned, softer… but more deliberate. “…Noted,” he said.

William pretended to look out the window, but inside? Complete meltdown. He’d meant to be aloof. Mature. Just a tiny bit mischievous. Instead he was flirting by accident. 

By accident. Wonderful.

A few minutes passed in warm, charged quiet before Est spoke again, this time more serious. “About last night…” Est’s fingers tapped the steering wheel in a thoughtful rhythm. “I meant what I said.”

William felt the world steady and tilt at the same time. 

“I don’t expect you to change who you are,” Est continued. “Just… be honest. Even a little. If you’re nervous, say so. If you’re unsure, I’ll hear you. If you want something… try telling me.”

William swallowed—not out of fear but out of something dangerously close to hope. “Okay,” he said quietly. “I’ll try.”

“Good.”

Then Est’s tone shifted again—lighter, teasing on the edges. “And if you keep trying this ‘cool mature-man act,’ I might even get impressed.”

William raised a brow, grateful—briefly—that he hadn’t inherited his mother’s inability to hide expressions. “Why? Am I failing that badly?”

“No,” Est admitted. “But I can still see it.”

“See what?”

A soft, devastating smile. “The chaos.”

William’s heartbeat tripped.

“That’s not going anywhere,” Est added. “So don’t bother hiding it.”

William looked away, fighting an involuntary smile. “…We’ll see,” he muttered.

“Mm. I will.”

And somehow, just like that, the car fell back—this time—into a comfortable quiet. But everything inside William was awake. Every part of him humming. Every vulnerable thought carefully tucked behind a more confident front. He wasn’t the shy shadow trailing behind anymore. Little by little—he was letting Est see the real him. The messy parts. The man he was becoming. The feelings he no longer wanted to hide completely.

And Est…
Est was watching. Not backing away. Not brushing it off. Seeing him. Really seeing him. It was enough to make William breathe a little easier.

Even if his pulse never slowed down once.

~*~

The familiar gates of campus came into view far too quickly for William’s liking. Not because he didn’t want to get to class… but because being in this car without the usual awkwardness, close enough to feel Est’s quiet warmth, had done things to his emotional stability.

Est eased into the main parking row, shifting gears with effortless grace. “Your first class is in the music building, right?”

William nodded. “Yeah.”

Est parked smoothly, engine quieting to a gentle hum. Then he unbuckled—slow, calm, intentional. William’s breath caught, ridiculous as it was. 

“I’ll walk you,” Est said simply.

William froze. Oh no. NONONO. Walking to class together. Through campus. In broad daylight. With people watching. Beside Est in his morning neat uniform and perfect posture and soft-smelling existence—

He would die.
Instantly.
On the spot.

William quickly shook his head. “No—it’s fine. You don’t have to.”

Est blinked at him, unreadable. “It’s not far.”

“Exactly,” William said too fast. “I—I can handle the thirty meters.”

A tiny tilt of Est’s head. “You sure?” 

William nodded so aggressively he nearly sprained something. Because if Est walked him to class, people would stare. Whisper. Take photos. Ask questions. And more importantly…

William wouldn’t survive the close proximity for another five minutes.

“Alright,” Est said after a beat, the faintest trace of amusement pulling at the corner of his mouth. “If you insist.”

William unbuckled—carefully, like the seatbelt might explode—and reached for the door handle. But Est’s voice stopped him, warm and low. “William.” He turned back, pulse tripping over itself. Est’s eyes held his—not sharply, but gently. Steady. Understanding more than William wished he could.

“You don’t need to run away from me,” Est said.

William went still. Utterly still. His heart forgot how to beat for a full three seconds. Est didn’t say it teasingly. Not mockingly. Not accusingly. Just… softly. Honestly. Like he wanted William to know he wasn’t dangerous. Not someone William needed distance from. And ironically, that only made William more flustered.

“I’m not running,” William said, voice low.

A quiet hum. “If you say so.”

William held his gaze—just for a second—long enough to gather every scrap of courage he owned. “…I’m not,” he repeated. “I just don’t want to make you late.”

Est blinked, faintly surprised. Then that small, subtle, devastating smile returned. “I won’t be late.”

“Well then, I will,” William said with a tiny shrug, attempting coolness. “If you walk me.”

Est paused. 

Then—very softly—laughed. It was small. Barely a real laugh. But real enough to make William’s entire bloodstream heat. “Go,” Est said, still smiling. “Before you say something else that surprises me.”

William swallowed, opened the door, and stepped out. The moment the air hit him, he inhaled sharply—because wow, oxygen was doing a terrible job.

Est leaned slightly toward the passenger window as William backed away from the car. “See you later,” he said.

William tried for casual confidence. “Okay.”  

Est raised a brow. “Good.” Then he straightened, put the car into gear, and—after one last look—pulled away. 

William stood there until the car disappeared around the corner. Then he let out a single, shaky exhale. “Okay,” he muttered under his breath. “Okay. Today… maybe I won’t be an emotional disaster. Maybe.” Then he immediately tripped on absolutely nothing.

…Fantastic start.

William slid into his seat for Music Theory IV, still warm-faced from Est dropping him off. Normally, this class was his sanctuary—clean staves, predictable chords, no emotional landmines. Not today. Today, everything looked like a metaphor for his life.

The board read:

“Non-Chord Tones & Extended Harmony”

Wonderful. He was a non-chord tone. Dangling. Tense. Wanting to resolve into Est’s chord.

He took a slow breath and opened his notebook. 

Two seats to his left sat Keen, already giving him the kind of side-eye reserved for people who were clearly hiding emotional catastrophes. Beside Keen, Sea was scrolling his tablet, but looked up just long enough to smirk knowingly.

William tightened his grip on his pencil. He would not make eye contact. He would not embarrass himself. He would—

His phone buzzed.

Keen:
YOU LOOK LIKE YOU GOT BACK-HUGGED BY AN ANGEL AND HAVEN’T RECOVERED

William’s soul left his body. He typed furiously under the desk.

William:
STOP PLEASE WE ARE IN CLASS

Sea:
then stop looking like you’re living in a romance manhwa in real time

Keen:
i saw est’s car this morning 👀
DID HE PICK YOU UP
ANSWER. NOW.

William closed his eyes, dying quietly.

The professor clapped sharply. “Let’s review suspensions. What creates tension in a suspension?”

William was not paying attention. He was typing:

William:
yes. he picked me up. now PLEASE STOP—

“William?” the professor called. His head snapped up. “Ma’am??”

“You raised your hand?”

“I—did I?”

The entire class snickered.

Keen typed:
OH MY GOD he’s already gone. brain: est.exe ONLY.

William wanted to climb into the nearest cello case and never emerge. He forced his attention back to the board, but everything the professor said blurred together.

“…suspension delays resolution—”

Just like my entire situation with Est.

“…appoggiatura approaches dissonance—”

That’s just me every time Est looks at me.

“…anticipation occurs early—”

Like me thinking too far ahead about the engagement.

He dropped his forehead to the desk.

Another buzz.

Keen:
ok but REAL QUESTIONS
does est KNOW you’re in love with him yet or is he still walking around oblivious and hot
AND WHAT HAPPENED LAST NIGHT AT YOUR SACRED JOINT FAMILY DINNER

William choked on air.

William:
KEEEN STOPPP

Sea:
posture check
you’re curling in on yourself like a shy shrimp
est would laugh

William:
PLEASE BE NORMAL
just for FIVE minutes

Keen:
no ❤️

Twenty minutes later, they were doing a modulation analysis worksheet. Mina, his normal partner, was absent today—thank God—but that only meant Keen and Sea were free to torment him without interruption.

Another message lit up the screen:

Sea:
btw
your ear turns red when u type fast
fix it
est will notice

William slapped a hand over his ear immediately—

Then froze.

He remembered. Est had already noticed. Last night. In the car.  His stomach flipped so violently he thought he might throw up his entire musical training. 

His phone buzzed again. He prepared himself for more chaos—

But this time the name on the screen made his breath catch.

Est:
If class ends on time, wait for me.
I’ll come find you.

Just that. No emoji. No explanation. Just a calm, warm line that hit harder than any chord inversion ever could. William lowered the phone, heart thudding so loud he swore the whole room could hear it.

Immediately:

Keen:
IT’S EST
WHAT DID HE SAY
i heard your SOUL GASP from here
spill. now.

Sea:
bro you literally glowed

William shoved the phone under his notebook and stared very resolutely at measure 12 of the worksheet. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t modulate to any key that made sense. This was going to be the least productive Music Theory class of his academic career. And the longest. And somehow—because of Est—also the sweetest.

When class finally—finally—ended, the professor dismissed them with a cheerful, “Remember, suspensions resolve downward,” completely unaware that William’s life was currently nothing but unresolved tension.

The moment she stepped out, Keen pounced. Like a cat spotting a half-dying bird. He practically slammed both palms on William’s desk. “What. Did. He. Text. You.” 

Sea appeared on the other side—silent, smiling, teasing. 

William almost fell out of his chair. “N-Nothing,” he stuttered, clutching his notebook like a shield. Keen narrowed his eyes. “William. Music theory masochist. My beloved disaster best friend. You gasped. In class.” 

Sea added, “And your ears did the thing.”

William slapped his ears again. “STOP NOTICING THAT—”

“So he did text you,” Keen said triumphantly.

“I DIDN’T SAY THAT—”

Sea leaned in. “You didn’t have to.”

William’s dignity evaporated into atoms. He shoved his things into his bag and stood. “I have another class to get to.”

“You still have some time,” Keen said.

“Tell us about last night,” Sea added helpfully. 

William pointed a shaky finger at both of them. “I’m leaving. Goodbye. I’m blocking this group chat.”

“You won’t,” Keen sang. 

He wouldn’t. He absolutely would not. 

“We’ll interrogate you at lunch!” 

William stormed—quietly—out of the room. He walked to the courtyard outside the music building, found a spot near a bench, and attempted—tried so hard—to look casual. Very casual. Painfully casual.

He sat.
No, too obvious.
He stood.
No, looked like he was waiting for someone.
He leaned on the bench.
No, like a love-interest in a drama poster.

He finally settled on pretending to scroll his phone. He wasn’t scrolling. At all. His leg bounced. His heart hammered. Every student who walked by, he looked up like an abandoned puppy. No Est. He inhaled. He exhaled. He pretended he didn’t care. He cared so much he could combust. Then—footsteps. William didn’t even need to look. His heart recognized them before he did.

He still looked.

And there Est was.

Walking toward him as if the world simply parted to make space. Clean uniform. Neat bag. Hair falling slightly into his eyes. Expression calm—too calm. 

William forgot how to breathe.

“Sorry,” Est said gently as he stopped in front of him. “Professor held us back a bit.”

“N-No worries,” William replied, voice cracking like he’d swallowed sunlight wrong. Est looked at him—really looked—eyes warming faintly. “You waited,” Est said softly. Not teasing, not smug. Just… noticing.

William’s heart did a backflip off a cliff. “I—I mean, yeah, you told me to, so…”

Shut up shut up shut up—

Est smiled. Not wide. Not flashy. Just a small, quiet curve at the corner of his lips. But it ruined William completely.

“Let’s go,” Est said, voice low and warm. “Your next class is in a different building, right?”

“Y-Yeah.”

Est tilted his head. “Walk with me?”

William was almost short-circuited. But he remembered his new determination—not to be so painfully shy and awkward, not to collapse into mush every time Est breathed in his direction. So he cleared his throat. Straightened a bit. Said, “Yeah, sure. If you want.”

That earned him a tiny, amused glint in Est’s eyes. A glint that said Est noticed the change. Noticed him trying. A glint that made William want to run into the nearest wall.

They fell into easy steps. Comfortable. Warm. Dangerous. William had no idea how he was supposed to survive two months of this. But he walked beside Est anyway. Trying, failing, and trying again—to look even a little like someone worthy of being loved back.

The afternoon sun warmed the pavement as they left the music building, walking side by side. William tried to keep his pace even—calm, mature, normal—but Est’s presence kept bending the laws of physics around him.

“So, Building C?” Est confirmed.

“Yeah,” William said, adjusting his messenger bag. “Music for the first period… now Art Management class.”

Est glanced at him, eyes softening with a trace of pride. “I didn’t know you took a double major. Impressive.”

“More like double torture,” William muttered before he could stop himself. Est actually chuckled. Quiet, low—like the sound was just for him. William nearly tripped on air.

“That’s why I don’t see your friends then…” 

William answered with a low, “Hmm.”

They walked past the central courtyard, students milling everywhere. Some glanced at them. No—many. Whispering, nudging, subtly pointing. William immediately blushed a little. Est noticed. Of course he did. 

“You okay?” he asked lightly.

“Yeah,” William said quickly. Then, to explain the staring, “Your fans must be wondering why you are here, with me…”

“My fans?” Est raised a brow, genuinely puzzled.

“Well… yeah. You’re popular. Smart. Good-looking. Calm. Swimming and Basketball team. Senior. The entire campus notices you.”

Est blinked. Then—”Hmm.” A thoughtful, amused hum.

“What ‘hmm’?” William asked, defensive. 

“I think you’re mistaken,” Est said, lips curving. “They’re looking at you.” William laughed—too sharp. “Me? No way.”

Est stopped walking. Just—stopped. William turned back, heartbeat stumbling. “P’Est?” Est stepped closer. Not close enough to be inappropriate—but close enough that William smelled citrus and fresh soap again. Close enough that William forgot language.

Then Est reached out—

And flicked a tiny strand of William’s hair that had fallen onto his forehead. Gentle. Casual. Like touching him was natural. “You have attention on you,” Est said softly, “not because of me.”

William froze.

Brain: blue screen of death.

“This is a music major building. What makes you think they are not looking at you?” Est continued, “They are looking… probably because you look… different today.”

“D-Different?” William echoed.

“A bit more mature.” Then, with a tiny teasing tilt of his head, “Less coconut frape, more…” He paused, eyes glinting, scanning his clothing choices for the day, “Americano.”

William’s stomach performed Olympic-level flips. He tried to step back, but Est gently caught the edge of William’s sleeve—barely a touch, just enough to pull him back to the path. 

“Come on,” Est said. “You’ll be late.” 

William nodded wordlessly, letting himself be guided back into step beside him. His heart was thundering, but his feet somehow worked. As they approached Building C, more students turned their heads. Curious looks. Surprised looks. A few impressed looks. William ducked his head.

Est?
Completely unaffected.
Hands in pockets, posture easy, expression soft.

“They’re staring so much,” William whispered.

“Well, they’re wondering why a different major postgraduate senior is walking a junior this far across campus.”

William swallowed. “…Why are you walking me?”

Est gave him a look so gentle it hurt. “Because I wanted to,” he said. William’s knees almost gave out.

“And because your face gets redder the longer we are together,” Est added, smugly deadpan.

“P’EST—!”

“See?” Est pointed without looking. “There it goes again.” William slapped his cheeks, horrified at his own body. Est only smiled, soft and devastating. 

They reached the steps. William hesitated, clutching the strap of his bag. “You don’t have to walk me all the way—”

“I know,” Est said calmly.

William stared. Est stared back. Then Est did something subtle—barely there: A small nod. A quiet smile. A warmth that felt like approval.

“Have a good class,” Est said. “Lunch together?”

William nodded too fast. “O-Okay.”

Est turned to leave—but halfway down the path, he glanced over his shoulder. And smiled again. It ruined William for the rest of the day.

William entered his next class—Financial Management for the Arts—half-floating, half-dead, and entirely useless as a functioning human being.

Being a double major in Music and Arts Management was supposed to make him feel accomplished, disciplined, and impressive. To be ready to take his family’s company in the future while still enjoying his passion for music.

Today it only made him feel like he had too many places to be while his brain was trying to reboot itself from Est’s smile. He slid into his seat, opened his notebook, and stared blankly at the first line. His professor started lecturing about organizational structures and financial services in creative industries. 

William heard none of it. His mind was still on Est.

Classes finished in a blink. William didn’t get anything from the two hours of boring lectures. A certain someone filled up his brain so much already there was barely space for other topic. William packed up quickly, trying not to look like he was rushing out the door. 

He had barely stepped outside the building when he spotted Keen and Sea waiting at the courtyard table like two vultures perched on a lamp post. Sea pointed immediately. “There he is.” Keen squinted at him. “Oh yeah. That’s the face of a man who’s been emotionally yeeted.”

They both stood up.

“Don’t—” William raised a hand, but it was too late. 

They pounced.

“Why are you walking like you’re in a trance?” Sea asked, circling him like he was inspecting damage. Keen jabbed a finger at him. “Something happened. Tell us. Tell us right now.”

William groaned. “Can we move first?”

They herded him toward the cafeteria courtyard, not even pretending to be normal. 

William had just sat down when his phone buzzed. From Est.

Est:
I have to skip lunch. Sudden thesis meeting.

William shut off the screen immediately, ears burning. 

Keen leaned in. “Oh? Who was that?” Sea leaned in from the other side. “Your expression says it starts with E and ends with S-T.”

William covered his face. “You two are insufferable.” 

They ignored him entirely. “So,” Sea said, sliding into his seat, “family dinner.” Keen clasped his hands like a detective about to make an arrest. “Start from the beginning. Don’t skip anything. If you skip something, we’ll know.”

William stared at the table. “Est… knew.”

“Knew what?” Keen asked, leaning closer.

“The engagement.” He exhaled. “He already knew. Since the day before.”

Both gasped—dramatically, loudly, like they were auditioning for an opera. 

“And?” Sea pressed.

“And,” William continued quietly, “he told his family he wants time before the official announcement. He wants to… get to know me properly. Until his graduation.”

Silence.

A beat.

Then—

Keen let out a strangled squeal. “WILLIAM. THAT IS—ROMANTICALLY CHARGED.” Sea grabbed his arm and shook it. “He doesn’t want a strategic marriage—he wants you.“

“Stop—please,” William whispered, face burning so hot he might combust.

Keen clutched his heart. “Oh my God. So that’s why he drove you this morning—”

William curled into the seat. “I hate both of you.”

“No you don’t,” Sea said smugly.

“Not when your life is turning into a romance drama,” Keen added.

William buried his face in his arms. His heart was still beating too fast. His thoughts still looping around Est’s smile. His whole world slightly tilted off-axis. And Est—somewhere in a thesis meeting—had no idea the emotional carnage he’d caused.

William then continued to fill in the rest of the story to his duo chaostic best friends. 

Keen leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms with theatrical flair, while Sea calmly peeled the wrapper off his sandwich like he wasn’t preparing to drop emotional bombs in thirty seconds. William, who had spent the last three minutes hiding behind his hands after finishing his story, peeked between his fingers. Big mistake. Keen’s eyes were already sparkling with malicious excitement.

“So,” Keen declared, “allow me to present—our main subject of study.” He pointed both hands dramatically at William. “WILLIAM. IN. LOVE.”

Sea, composed and smug, added, “Volume three of the ongoing series: ‘How Did This Man Survive His Own Feelings?'”

William slapped the table. “I HATE BOTH OF YOU.”

They nodded, completely unbothered.

“Back to our analysis,” Keen continued loudly. “We now know that Est—who, by the way, is famously allergic to unnecessary socializing—already knew about the engagement the day before.“

Sea clicked his tongue once. “And despite that—he still chose to hover.”

“He was not hovering—”

“Baby,” Sea cut in mildly, “he watched you drink that Americano like it was a live performance.”

William’s soul tried to exit his body. “SHH—”

Keen slammed his palms down. “AND THEN—he teased you. And not the neutral, polite teasing. The I’m-amused-by-you-and-want-to-keep-watching-you-fluster-yourself teasing.”

Sea nodded in professor-mode. “That’s the dangerous kind. The real kind.”

William’s ears went scarlet.

“And!” Keen raised a finger, ready to deliver the killing blow. “AND!! He offered to walk you to class.”

William choked. “He was just being polite—”

Sea finally looked up, expression so calm it was offensive. “No. Polite is: ‘Oh, I finished parking, see you around.’ Not: ‘I’ll walk you there.’ That’s interest, my dude.” Keen leaned forward, dramatic as ever. “That’s ‘I want extra time with you.'”

William covered his face again, groaning into his palms. 

Keen patted his back repeatedly. “Sweetheart, please understand—Est is not nice. He is selectively nice.” Sea nodded sagely. “He is… niche-nice.”

Keen snapped his fingers. “YES. From all those times you described him, we all know he only turns on the kindness mode for people he cares about or is curious about. Everyone else gets the Cold Academic Wall.”

Sea took a sip of his drink, looked at William, and smiled with quiet mischief. “And clearly, you’re not ‘everyone else.'”

William’s entire chest tightened. He stared at the table. “But yesterday—I was so awkward. I couldn’t even look straight at him. My f*cking ears were red all the damn time. I—” 

Keen cut him off. “Yes, you were a walking ‘please uninstall me’ moment. Peak Willy.” Sea hummed. “And yet, Est still looked at you like you were… interesting.”

William’s breath caught. “You—you think so?”

Keen raised both brows. “Dude. He watched you drink Americano suffering and still didn’t laugh. That’s devotion.”

Sea smirked faintly. “He only laughed internally.”

William collapsed into his chair like a puppet with its strings cut. “Why am I like this.” Keen lifted a hand dramatically to the ceiling. “Because you’re in love, my brother. And unfortunately, it’s terminal.” 

Sea added, “And mutual… adjacent.” He smirked. “At least in potential.”

William stared at them, wide-eyed.

Sea leaned forward, tone softer. “Look. Est knew about the engagement announcement timeline. He still chose to spend the day getting closer to you. That means something.” Keen jabbed a finger toward William’s chest. “He didn’t mind your chaos yesterday. He liked it. Somewhat.”

William’s heart stopped functioning. He croaked, “You really believe that?”

Keen curled an arm around Sea’s shoulders and said, with that trademark smug warmth,
“Believe it? William, we saw it. The man looked at you like you’re a slow puzzle he wants to figure out.”

Sea slapped the table. “Which means—you’re not the only one falling. Hopefully.”

William made a tiny, strangled sound that Keen and Sea immediately high-fived over. He dropped forward, forehead on the table, one hand flopped dramatically to the side. 

“I’m doomed.”

Sea grinned. “Romantically doomed.”

Keen added, “And considering the engagement countdown… Honey, this is the best time to be doomed.”