Chapter 5
William stood just outside the entrance of ICONSIAM, pretending—horribly—to look calm.
Neon lights glowed against the early evening sky, cars rolled slowly through the drop-off lane, and families and couples streamed in through the glass doors. The mall buzzed—voices overlapping, music drifting faintly from inside, the scent of roasted coffee and popcorn mixing in the air.
And William… was waiting. For Est.
He checked the time. 4:27 PM. Est said he’d be here at 4:30.
Three minutes. Which meant William had checked the time far too many times. Not desperate. Absolutely normal. Completely fine.
He adjusted his jacket, then his hair, then tried rearranging his posture but kept ending up in the same awkward stance. He wasn’t sure what to do with his hands—pockets? No. Crossed? Too stiff. Clasped? Too weird.
He inhaled. Relax. Be normal. Do NOT look like someone on the verge of emotional collapse.
A group of students from campus walked by.
“Oh, that’s William!”
“Is he on a date?”
“Maybe with Est—haven’t they been close lately?”
William wanted to melt into the nearest trash bin.
He had just finished silently screaming when—
“Waiting long?”
William turned so fast he nearly dislocated something.
Est stood there. Fresh showered. Ridiculously handsome… and beautiful. White T-shirt layered under a black bomber jacket, dark jeans, hair slightly tousled from the wind. His face was relaxed, eyes unreadably warm.
William’s brain short-circuited. “N-No,” he said automatically. “I just got here.” He had absolutely not just gotten here.
Est’s lips curved in a small, knowing curve. “Mm. Sure.”
William would like to unsubscribe from living.
Est stepped closer—not invading his space, but close enough that William caught the faint scent of clean cologne and citrus that always followed him. William’s breath hitched.
“You look nice,” Est said casually.
William made a strangled noise that was supposed to be a normal reply. “You too.”
Est’s soft huff of amusement confirmed he had noticed. “Come on,” Est said gently. “We’ll miss the previews.”
They walked side by side through the glass doors, the cool mall air enveloping them.
And the realization hit William—four weeks ago, they barely spoke. Now Est was the one inviting him out. To a movie. At the mall. At saturday night. Together.
William smiled—small but genuine—as he followed Est toward the cinema.
They reached the cinema escalator, neon lights reflecting off the tiled floors as advertisements flickered overhead. William felt himself straighten automatically—not because he wanted to look cool, but because Est looked very cool, and standing beside him was a constant existential crisis.
“Let’s pick the movie first,” Est said, walking toward the digital posters.
“Yeah. Sure. Anything is fine with me,” William replied, voice confident, heart absolutely not. Est nodded, scrolling through the showtimes.
William pretended to look at the rom-com posters, the animated movie, the indie Thai drama, all while something else kept tugging at his peripheral vision.
A huge screen-sized poster.
Dark background. Explosions. A man in a tactical vest. A dramatic tagline. One of William’s favorite genres. His eyes kept darting toward it.
And the worst part?
He wasn’t subtle. He tried to hide it—lifting his chin, looking at other posters, even checking the ceiling like that would help. But every few seconds—
There it is.
Boom.
Main character brooding.
Gun shining.
Plot? Who cares.
Est caught it. Of course he did. William didn’t even realize Est had stopped scrolling until he heard, “You want to watch that one.” It wasn’t a question.
William froze. “W-What? No, I mean— you choose! I said you can choose. Anything you want.”
Est turned to him, face a calm, unreadable canvas with a small hint of amusement around the eyes. “You’ve looked at that poster five times. Eyes sprakling.”
William nearly died. “I—wasn’t! That’s— coincidence!”
“Six,” Est corrected gently.
William wanted the earth to open. But Est just stepped closer to the screen, tapped the movie title, and said, “This one. The action movie.”
“Are you sure?”
“Mm. You like this genre, right?”
William’s brain short-circuited. He hadn’t expected Est to choose for him. Or to notice. Or to sound so casual about it. “…Yeah,” William said softly. “I do.”
Est’s eyes softened—just a little. “I know.”
If William had a heart monitor, it would have exploded.
As they approached the concessions counter, William was determined to be cool. No awkward stuttering. No blushing. No losing oxygen because Est looked at him for half a second. He had decided—last week, this morning, this afternoon, ten minutes ago—that he was going to show more confidence. More maturity. A little flirting. A little chaos.
Subtle flirting, he reminded himself. Not complete cardiac arrest.
“Should we get two popcorns?” William asked, trying to sound suave.
Est shook his head. “A couple set should be enough.” William’s soul imploded. “C-Couple?” he squeaked before he could stop himself.
Est blinked. “Yeah. This one.”
He pointed calmly at the “Couple Combo”—one big popcorn, two drinks.
“We won’t be too full before dinner.”
William stared. Not on the menu. At Est. At how natural he made the word couple sound. At how normal he looked saying it. At how much it hit William like a direct emotional bullet.
“…Right,” William managed. “Couple is— good. A good combo. Perfectly… sensible.”
“Mm.” Est’s mouth lifted in the faintest, tiniest nearly-smile. “You okay?”
“Absolutely,” William lied. They ordered the couple set. William carried the drinks. Est carried the giant popcorn. Their fingers brushed twice.
On purpose? Accident? William had no idea. All he knew was that he needed to breathe manually.
They found their seats in the middle row. Perfect view. Surround sound. Low lighting. William sat down first. Est sat beside him. William had sworn he would be smooth tonight—subtle, mature, a little flirtatious without combusting.
But the universe clearly hated him.
Because the moment they sat down, Est casually flipped the shared armrest up between them and said, voice low:
“More comfortable this way.”
William’s soul left his body. He managed a strangled, “S-sure.”
“Comfortable?” Est asked. “Very,” William said, in the voice of someone absolutely NOT comfortable.
Est’s gaze flicked to him.
William swallowed. Time for his plan. Be less awkward. More confident. More… subtle. He said it again in his head, like a mantra.
He leaned slightly toward Est—not obviously, just enough for their shoulders to almost, almost touch again. “Well… you did choose a movie I wanted,” William said lightly. “I feel spoiled.”
Est blinked, a tiny pause.
Then—
“I didn’t know I was spoiling you,” he replied, voice low, balanced between calm and teasing. “I thought I was just choosing something you’d enjoy.”
William’s heart cratered. So much for subtle flirting—he was the one getting subtly flirted back.
The auditorium wasn’t full, but somehow Est felt too close—warm, calm, steady. He set the single tub of popcorn between them, fingers brushing William’s once, twice, like it was normal.
William grabbed a handful just to have something to do. Bad move.
He choked on a kernel instantly.
Est turned, expression shifting from mild surprise to gently amused concern.
“You okay?”
“I—yeah—just… popcorn is dangerous.”
The corner of Est’s mouth lifted. “That’s why they say not to underestimate small things.”
William almost died.
Small was subjective, okay?
The movie started, saving him from replying. But it didn’t save him from Est.
Because Est watched movies like a quiet storm—focused, leaning slightly forward, occasionally murmuring small reactions. And every now and then, when William got too still, Est would tilt the popcorn toward him. A simple, wordless gesture. Intimate in a way that made William’s chest tighten.
Halfway through, a big explosion lit up the screen—and William flinched a little more than necessary.
Est leaned closer, whispering near his ear, voice a whisper of warmth:
“Too loud?”
William swallowed. “No. Just… surprised.”
Est didn’t move away for a moment—just studying him with soft eyes—before settling back into his seat.
They watched in silence after that… except for when William stretched his fingers toward the popcorn at the exact same moment Est did. Their hands brushed again. This time, neither pulled back immediately.
Est simply smiled—subtle, almost hidden in the dark, but unmistakably there. Like he enjoyed William’s chaos.
And William?
He sat there, pretending to focus on the explosions and car chases, while his heart launched its own internal action sequence.
Walking out of the theater felt like waking from a dream. Lights were brighter, the mall more crowded, the world noisier—but Est was still right beside him, and somehow that made everything feel quieter.
“What did you think?” Est asked, stepped into the hallway. William blinked. “The movie? Oh—uh—good. Very good. Great.”
It had been great. But William had spent half the time hyper-aware of Est next to him—the brush of clothing, the warmth of his arm, the way he leaned forward during intense scenes.
Est hummed. “You seemed… focused.”
William nearly tripped. “I—was! On the movie! The plot was… very… plotty.”
Est looked at him with that soft, impossible smile again. “Mm. Plotty.”
William was going to die.
Est stretched lightly, loose and elegant, and William had to physically stop himself from staring.
Flirt, he reminded himself.
You said you’d flirt. Subtly. Like an adult. Not like an overheated toaster.
He inhaled.
Attempt #1:
“Uh—you look good in low lighting,” William blurted.
Est blinked.
William wanted to throw himself down the escalator.
But then Est’s lips curved. “Is that so? Should I take that as a compliment to my face… or to the darkness?” William squeaked internally. “Both?”
Est chuckled.
Failed but survived.
They walked toward the mall’s central atrium, side by side—close enough that their sleeves brushed every few steps. William’s brain fried every single time.
“Hungry?” Est asked. “Starving,” William admitted.
Est nodded and gently gestured for him to follow. “Come on. I know a good place.”
They walked quietly.
Okay.
Another attempt.
Attempt #2:
“So… you choosing the action movie because of my sparkling eyes—was that you trying to impress me?” He tried to sound cool. He ended up sounding like a cat trying to swagger.
Est raised an eyebrow, amused. “I didn’t think you’d noticed.”
William choked. He absolutely hadn’t expected that answer. “I—uh—well—” Est added, calmly, “But yes. Maybe I was.”
William’s knees considered resigning.
Attempt two = mild success but mental damage taken.
After the second attempt at flirting, they continue to walk… with a comfortable atmospher.
Too comfortable.
They reached the wide railing overlooking the lower level—couples taking photos, kids running around the small open playground area, a string of twinkling lights curving across the ceiling.
William inhaled, squared his shoulders, and decided:
Attempt #3:
This one had to count.
He leaned slightly on the railing, looking sideways at Est. “You know… hanging out with you is fun.”
Est turned to him, attention shifting fully—steady, warm, focused. A dangerous kind of focused. William forced himself to hold that gaze.
“And I wouldn’t mind doing it again. A lot. Actually.”
Silence. For three seconds. Est’s smile grew—not teasing this time, but soft. Real. “…That’s good,” he said quietly. “Because I was hoping you’d say something like that.”
William’s heart did a backflip.
SUCCESS FULL COMBO.
But Est wasn’t done. He stepped a fraction closer—subtle but unmistakable—until their shoulders nearly touched. “And if you want to flirt more,” Est added lightly, “I don’t mind that either.”
William blacked out for half a second. He recovered with a breath, cheeks burning, and managed:
“Well… maybe I will, then.”
Est’s answering look made him regret every life choice that led him to being this weak.
They started walking again with William half-floating, half-panicking, and Est calm as ever.
Only to be ambushed by—
Attempt #4:
They passed a row of boutiques, one displaying couples’ the matching keychains. William, riding the wave of newfound bravery, nudged Est’s elbow lightly.
“So… if we were a matching-keychain type couple—hypothetically—what shape would we be?”
Then he winked.
He WINKED.
Est stopped walking.
William nearly fainted.
Then—Est laughed. Soft, surprised, and warm.
When he looked at William again, his eyes were brighter, fond.
“…A sun and a moon,” Est said after a beat. “Fits us, doesn’t it?”
William stared.
Because that was—cute. Personal. Sweet. And way more thoughtful than he expected. He wasn’t sure whether to combust or propose on the spot.
Est leaned slightly closer, voice lower:
“Good attempt, by the way.”
William made a noise that wasn’t human.
Together, they continued toward dinner—William’s flirting finally landing, and Est looking like he was enjoying every second of William’s progressive meltdown.
The restaurant Est picked was quiet, soft-lit, and a little too romantic for William’s heart rate. They were shown to a small booth by the window, fairy lights glimmering along the glass. The ambiance alone felt like it could kill him.
William sat down carefully—like the chair might explode under the pressure of his feelings. Est, of course, sat like he owned the place.
Menus arrived. William tried reading his, but every time Est shifted, or breathed, or existed, the words blurred.
“So,” Est began casually, resting one elbow on the table. “You’re still alive after that movie?”
William scoffed (weakly). “Please. I was perfectly calm.”
“You gasped at every explosion.”
“It was called reaction, P’Est.”
Est hummed, the corner of his mouth lifting. William immediately felt the urge to flip the table. He needed to regain ground. He was supposed to be flirting, being subtle-but-bold, not being a roasted chestnut.
He cleared his throat. “So… dinner,” he attempted. “Good choice. It’s nice.”
“It is,” Est agreed. “Though the company’s better.”
William short-circuited.
Wow, he thought numbly. He’s really going to do this tonight? Just casually assassinate me with kindness?
He straightened in his seat. Two can play this game. He had determination. And also crippling social anxiety, but still—determination.
“Well,” William said, tone smooth-ish, “you did have the honor of spending your evening with me.”
Est blinked, something amused sparking in his eyes. “Oh? And here I thought I’m the one escorting a fiancé around.”
William nearly bit his tongue at fiancé.
He looked down quickly, focusing on the menu so he wouldn’t ascend to heaven on the spot. But his reflection in the laminated surface was red. Like—red.
The waiter returned, blessedly breaking the tension. As soon as the waiter left, Est leaned back, studying William with a calm, quiet interest.
“How’s your chest?” he asked.
William froze. “My—my what?”
“Your heart. You’ve been pressing your hand to it since we left the theater.” Est’s voice was annoyingly gentle. “Did I scare you that much?”
William realized—yes. Yes he was. But also maybe—he could spin this. This was a flirting opportunity.
He swallowed, lifted his chin slightly.
“Maybe I just react like that around people I like.”
Est went still.
William’s own eyes widened.
Wait—
Wait.
Did he seriously say that aloud?
Did he really—
Did he actually—
Est’s gaze sharpened, warmth flickering there. “…Is that so?” he murmured.
William wanted to sink under the table, evaporate, and reassemble in another continent. “Hypothetically,” he added quickly, trying to survive.
Est didn’t let him. He leaned forward—not enough to be dramatic, just enough that William felt the shift of air. “Hypothetically,” Est echoed softly, “I like being around you too.”
William stopped breathing.
“That’s—” He coughed, choking on his own dignity. “—good.”
Est’s smile was small, but undeniably there.
The food came. William barely tasted anything. He was too busy vibrating. At some point, Est reached for the water pitcher. Their fingers brushed again. A tiny spark shot up William’s arm.
Est paused. Observed him. Slightly smiled again. William considered suing him for emotional damage.
After dinner, neither of them suggested going home. Est looked at William. William looked at Est. And without a word, they started walking. Soft lights, slow crowds, warm atmosphere. They stopped at a small shop selling model kits. Est lingered over a shelf, William watched him from the side, heart a mess.
Then the bookstore—Est drifted to the travel section, William to the art books.
Then the arcade—William lost at a racing game; Est laughed quietly, eyes warm like moonlight on water. Everything felt easy. Natural. Strangely intimate.
William caught himself thinking:
If only he could like me back like this.
Like this—slow, warm, everyday soft.
And that scared him. Hope always did.
Past a clothing store—Est paused by the entrance. “You should try those hooded coat,” Est said, tilting his head toward a rack near the window. William blinked. “What hooded coat?”
“The black one. It would look good on you.”
William’s heart leapt out the emergency exit. “You think so?” he croaked.
Est actually looked at him—slow, thoughtful. “Yeah,” he said. “You have a nice frame. It’ll fit well.” William felt his soul float upward. But he forced himself to be brave, remembering his morning mission: be subtle, be confident, be slightly dangerous.
So he lifted an eyebrow. “Oh? Paying attention to my frame, are you?”
Silence.
Est’s eyes flicked to him. Something sharp, amused, almost impressed.
“…Maybe.”
William’s knees immediately filed for divorce.
He laughed—too breathy—but it still counted as flirting back. He tried on the black-light grey hooded coat. It did look good. Est nodded once in approval, minimal but very real. William bought it on impulse, mostly because Est liked it. He tried not to think about that too hard.
They ended up at the ice cream kiosk near the center of the mall—warm lights, marble counters, and the smell of waffle cones drifting through the air.
William tried to act normal.
Tried.
But Est choosing action movies because William’s eyes sparkled?
Est mentioning the word “fiance” like it was a casual thing?
Est telling he has a “nice frame”?
His brain was soup.
“What flavor do you want?” Est asked, scanning the menu. William answered too fast. “Whatever you’re having is fine.”
Est’s eyebrow lifted. “You don’t even know what I’ll choose.”
“I—trust your taste?” William said, half-confident, half-lying. Est gave him a small, unreadable look, then turned to order. “Two cone twists,” he told the cashier. “One vanilla-chocolate. One blueberry-yogurt.”
Est handed him the vanilla-chocolate cone. William nearly inhaled the ice cream.
They stood near the fountain. The sound of water filled the quiet between them—gentle, calming, almost intimate with the low evening lights. William licked his cone, trying to look composed. He absolutely failed.
A moment later Est huffed a laugh.
“What?” William asked, instantly defensive.
Est leaned slightly in. “You have”—he gestured vaguely near William’s cheek—”something.”
Before William could panic, Est reached out and—
Thumb. On cheek.
Soft wipe.
Skin-on-skin.
Warm. Gentle. Thoughtless.
Deadly.
William stopped breathing for four full seconds.
Est froze too—just a fraction—as if realizing a beat too late what he’d done. But he didn’t pull away sharply. Instead, he finished the motion calmly, thumb brushing lightly until the smear was gone. Then he withdrew his hand. “Got it,” he said, voice low. Too low.
William’s entire soul evaporated. “Th-thanks,” he croaked, tone about two octaves higher than usual.
Est looked at him—calm, composed, but with a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. “You’re welcome.”
William turned away, face blazing so hot he worried the ice cream might melt on contact. They sat a moment longer, letting the sugar and cool air settle the tension. That was when a voice exploded through the mall.
“EST! WILLIAM! WHAT ON EARTH—?!”
William jolted so hard he almost dropped his cone.
Est sighed.
Because strutting toward them like a chaotic parade was Pond—Est’s best friend—loud, expressive, dramatic. Right behind him was Phuwin, smiling in that soft, stabilizing way that said he was used to Pond’s decibel levels.
Pond skidded to a stop in front of them.
“I literally walked past a café and saw your silhouettes and told Phuwin, ‘Babe, that looks like Est-being-soft-with-someone’ and he said—NO WAY—BUT IT IS YOU!”
Est stared at him, unimpressed. “Can you not announce things like a town crier?”
Pond gasped. “Are you embarrassed? Are you FLUSTERED? Are you—”
“No,” Est answered instantly.
William, meanwhile, was trying to hide behind his ice cream.
Phuwin approached with a more polite smile. “Hi, William. Nice seeing you again. Shopping?”
“H-Hi, err… we just finished a movie… yeah… and bought something along the way.” William stammered.
Pond immediately thrust himself into William’s personal space. “So,” he declared, eyes sparkling with dangerous curiosity, “you two are on a DATE.”
William choked on air. Phuwin smacked Pond’s arm. Est pinched the bridge of his nose.
“It’s not a date,” Est said, calm but firm.
“It’s not?” Pond blinked. “You watched a movie, shared popcorn I believe, walked around, bought clothes together, and now you’re eating ICE CREAM while you wipes food off William’s face tenderly—”
“Pond,” Est cut in.
Pond pointed dramatically at William. “Did he not do the thumb-wipe thing? The intimate thumb-wipe thing?”
William died again, for hundreth time tonight.
Phuwin sighed fondly. “You’re scaring him.” Pond made a horrified gasp and immediately clutched William’s arm. “Oh my god. Sweetie. I’m so sorry. I’m just… expressive.”
“It’s okay,” William wheezed, trying to be polite while actively melting.
Est exhaled slowly. “Can we sit? Before Pond vibrates out of existence?”
Pond beamed. “Yes! Ice cream double date!”
“Not a double—” Est tried.
They were already dragging chairs over. Phuwin chuckled. “Welcome to my life.”
William blinked at the two of them—loud, chaotic, affectionate. Pond had hugged Est earlier that week like it was nothing. Est, usually composed, tolerated Pond with the ease of long friendship. It was almost funny—Est so quiet, calm, steady… and Pond, a neon sign in human form.
But it worked.
They worked.
William could see why Est kept him close.
“So, William,” Pond began, leaning forward with a grin that spelled danger. “I’ve always wanted to ask, how long have you had a crush on Est?”
William nearly dropped the cone again. Est kicked Pond’s leg under the table. Phuwin made a sound like a dying cat trying to shush him.
“Oh COME ON,” Pond whined. “Look at him! He’s so red he’s basically a sunset!”
William covered his face. “I—I’m just warm!”
Est said nothing.
But when William dared to peek, Est’s expression was… soft. A little amused. Not distance. Not discomfort. Just… watching him. William’s heart did something illegal.
~*~
They finally escaped the mall.
Pond had blown kisses. Phuwin had bowed apologetically. William had nearly fainted twice. But eventually—eventually—Est and William made it to the parking lot.
The evening air was cooler now, carrying the faint smell of night-blooming flowers and car exhaust. William spotted the black Mercedes immediately, sleek under the amber streetlight. Est opened the passenger door for him without a word.
William tried not to react. He failed. He ducked inside, buckled in, and willed his pulse to behave as Est rounded the car and settled into the driver’s seat. The familiar scent—citrus, clean, a little warm from the day—wrapped around William like a trap.
The doors shut. The world quieted. Only them, the hum of the engine, and the soft glow of the dashboard lights.
Est checked his mirrors, then glanced sideways. “Your driver knows you’ll be heading home with me?”
“Yeah,” William said. “Dad told him to go back first.” Est hummed in acknowledgment and pulled out of the lot.
They drove in a peaceful silence, but not empty—filled instead with everything unsaid between them. The soft streetlights flashed over Est’s profile in warm lines: lashes dropping low, expression calm in a way that always made William’s chest ache.
Finally, Est spoke. “You were… quieter after Pond showed up.”
“I wasn’t quiet,” William countered too fast.
Est’s lips curled—tiny, subtle, teasing. “You always deny things when you’re embarrassed.”
William turned to the window to hide his burning ears.
“I wasn’t embarrassed.”
“Mm.” Est’s tone was gentle disbelief. “Of course not.”
William sank lower in his seat.
They hit a red light.
Est tapped the steering wheel softly—an old habit, rhythmic, thoughtful. Then—eyes half-warm, half-curious, “Your… flirting attempts,” he said carefully, “you’re getting bolder.”
William choked on absolutely nothing.
“I—I wasn’t—!”
Est’s smile deepened just a hint. “It’s fine,” Est said softly. “I don’t mind.”
William forgot how to swallow. He looked down at his hands. Then, very quietly, “You noticed?”
“William,” Est said, tone dropping into something warm and devastating, “I notice everything you do.”
William’s heart almost gave up on functioning. He stared at Est, wide-eyed and helpless—and Est, eyes still on the road, didn’t take it back, didn’t soften it, didn’t pretend it was a joke.
He meant it.
Realizing this, William had to look away again—before he did something absurd, like melt into the seat or confess his entire romantic history in one breath.
The car continued through the quiet streets toward William’s neighborhood. Just as they turned into a familiar road, Est spoke again, gentler than before. “By the way… thanks for today.”
William blinked. “For what?”
“For trying,” Est said. “For meeting me halfway.”
A pause.
“For letting me know you.”
William’s chest tightened in the best, most painful way. “…You’re welcome,” he whispered.
The car slowed in front of William’s house. Warm lights spilled from the windows. The porch glowed faintly.
Est shifted into park. Neither of them moved.
Finally, William released his seatbelt. “Goodnight, P’Est.”
Est’s eyes flickered—something soft, something unreadable. “Goodnight, William.”
William opened the door.
And because fate hated him, Est added from behind him:
“Text me when you’re inside.”
William nearly tripped on the sidewalk. He made it to the gate—barely holding himself together.
He texted: I’m in.
Est’s reply came immediately:
Good. Sleep well.
And… today was a date btw.
William stared at the screen, cheeks flaming, heart punching his ribs. Tonight—the movie, the mall, the ice cream, the chaos, Est’s small smiles… something had shifted. Something hopeful. Something terrifying. Something dangerously close to the beginning of them.