Chapter 8

If William had learned anything over the past months, it was that nervousness didn’t disappear just because something mattered. It simply learned how to coexist.

The living room was warm with familiar faces and familiar sounds-the gentle clink of porcelain, the low murmur of conversation, the way sunlight filtered through tall windows like it had always belonged there. Two families sat together again, not strangers, not formal guests. Just people who had shared too many meals, too many holidays, too many unspoken expectations to pretend this was anything but important.

Three days before Est’s graduation.

And today-the day words had to be said out loud.

William sat on the edge of the sofa, posture straight but energy unmistakably restless. His foot tapped once, then stopped when he noticed it. His hands were folded together, then unclasped, then folded again. Sunshine trapped inside a body trying very hard to behave.

Across from him, his mother was radiant-smiling too widely, eyes bright with anticipation. Est’s mother mirrored her enthusiasm with practiced ease, the two of them exchanging glances like co-conspirators. Their fathers spoke quietly, steady and thoughtful, voices carrying weight rather than volume.

William listened. Mostly. But his awareness kept drifting sideways.

Est sat beside him. Calm, as always. Still. Grounded. His presence felt like a shoreline-something solid William’s thoughts kept circling back to. He didn’t fidget. He didn’t look tense. His hands rested loosely, expression composed, gaze attentive.

William swallowed.

“So,” Est’s father said at last, folding his hands. “Before we finalize anything, we’d like to hear directly from both of you.”

The room quieted.

William’s heart immediately tried to escape his ribcage. He glanced at Est-just once-then looked forward again, inhaling like he was about to dive underwater. He stood up a second later, too quickly, chair legs scraping just a little.

“S-Sure,” he said, then cleared his throat. “I mean-yes.”

A few smiles flickered. Encouraging. Kind.

William rubbed his palms against his trousers, grounding himself. “I… agree to the engagement.” Simple. Honest. Unpolished.

He hesitated, then continued, words tumbling out before he could overthink them. “I know I’m not exactly calm,” he said with a self-aware laugh. “And I know this whole thing started kind of suddenly, and I-I don’t always say things the right way.”

Est’s gaze shifted to him. Steady. Watching.

“But I take this seriously,” William added quickly, earnest to the bone. “I’ll try. I’ll do my best. And… yeah. I want this.”

That was it. No grand declaration. No emotional unveiling. Just a straightforward truth delivered by someone whose heart beat a little too loudly when it mattered. William sat back down, cheeks warm, pulse racing.

Then it was Est’s turn. He stood smoothly, unhurried. The room felt different when he spoke-not heavier, just quieter, as if everyone instinctively leaned in.

“I agree as well,” Est said. His voice was calm, measured, mature. No nerves audible. No rush to fill silence. “I understand the responsibility of this engagement,” he continued. “And I’ve had time to think about it.”

William held his breath without realizing it.

“I believe relationships require intention,” Est said. “Not assumptions. Not expectations. But effort.” He paused, eyes briefly flicking toward William-not lingering, not revealing. “I’m willing to make that effort,” Est finished. “To get to know him better. Properly. And to see where that leads us.”

It wasn’t romantic.

It wasn’t distant either.

It was careful. Considered. Honest in a different way.

The parents exchanged looks-satisfied, relieved. Est’s mother smiled softly. William’s father nodded once, approving. The consent was given gently, like setting something precious down instead of locking it in place.

Later, when conversation drifted toward timelines and ceremonies and practical details, William found himself standing near the window, watching the garden sway lazily in the afternoon breeze.

His thoughts buzzed. He wasn’t calm. He doubted he ever would be. But Est had said he would try. That counted for something.

Est joined him a moment later, standing close but not touching. The space between them felt intentional-respected.

“You did fine,” Est said quietly.

William huffed. “I talked too fast.”

“Still fine.”

They were still by the window, afternoon thinning into gold, the garden below breathing quietly like it had no idea how much weight had just settled inside the house. Voices from the living room drifted in-parents discussing schedules, dates, logistics-life moving forward with alarming confidence. They stood there together, side by side-sunshine and stillness, chaos and calm.

William watched a leaf tremble on a branch. He didn’t plan to ask. The question simply… slipped out. He said, softly, “Are you sure?”

Est turned his head. Not sharply. Not surprised. Just… attentive. “About what?” he asked, though his tone suggested he already knew. William swallowed. His fingers curled lightly against the window frame, grounding himself. “About this,” he said. “About me.”

There it was. Bare. Unadorned.

He laughed quietly, self-conscious. “I mean-I know our parents have talked about this two months ago, and I know it makes sense on paper. And I already said yes, so I’m not trying to take it back or anything-” He stopped himself, exhaling. “I just want to know if you’re really sure. Not because it’s expected. Or polite. Or… easier.”

Est studied him for a moment. William hated how much he needed that silence to mean something.

“I don’t want you to feel like you’re doing me a favor,” William added, voice gentler now. “Or ticking off a responsibility.”

The breeze shifted. Somewhere inside, a teacup clinked. Est leaned his shoulder lightly against the wall beside the window, posture relaxed but presence focused entirely on William. When he spoke, his voice was steady-no defensiveness, no impatience. “I wouldn’t agree if I wasn’t sure enough to try,” he said.

William frowned slightly. “Enough to try?”

Est nodded once. “Certainty comes later,” he said. “I don’t think it’s honest to promise feelings I haven’t reached yet.” The words were careful. Measured. And somehow, they didn’t hurt. “But I am sure,” Est continued, “that I want to give this the time and attention it deserves. I’m sure I don’t want to walk into it blindly-or half-heartedly.” His gaze softened, just a fraction. “And I’m sure that you’re worth that effort.”

William’s chest tightened. He looked away quickly, pretending the view outside was suddenly fascinating. “You say things like that,” he muttered, “and then act like it’s no big deal.”

A quiet huff of amusement. “Is it not?”

“It is,” William said immediately, then froze. “I mean- to me.”

There. He slipped out his heart softly.

Est didn’t tease him for that. Didn’t deflect. He simply nodded, accepting the confession like it had been placed carefully in his hands.

“I know,” he said.

William risked a glance back at him. “You do?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

Est’s lips curved-small, warm, restrained. “You’re not subtle.”

William groaned, dropping his forehead lightly against the glass. “I knew it.”

“You don’t hide when something matters to you,” Est added. “You shine. Loudly.” William’s ears burned. “That wasn’t an insult, was it?”

“No,” Est said softly. “It was an observation.”

Silence fell again-but this time it felt gentler, like something settling instead of pulling apart.

“I’m not calm about this,” William admitted after a moment. “I don’t know how to be. I keep thinking-what if you never feel the way I do? What if I’m just… convenient?”

Est didn’t answer immediately. When he did, his voice was lower. Thoughtful. “Then we’ll find that out honestly,” he said. “And not by pretending from the start.”

William absorbed that. Let it sit. Slowly, his shoulders relaxed. “…Okay,” he said. Not triumphant. Not resigned. Just real.

Est watched him for a second longer, then straightened. “Come on,” he said. “If we don’t go back soon, our mothers will assume we’re secretly planning something dramatic.”

William snorted. “We are dramatic.”

Est smiled-slightly wider this time. “You are.”

William followed him back toward the living room, heart still unsteady, still hopeful, still terrifyingly open. Est hadn’t promised love. But he had promised effort to love. And for now-William decided that was enough to hold onto.

~*~

The graduation day arrived like a held breath finally released.

The university grounds bloomed with banners and sunlight, white tents lining the walkways, laughter rising in waves. Black gowns brushed against polished shoes, cameras flashed, flower bouquets crowded arms. Everything felt louder, brighter-like the world had decided this was a day worth remembering. The air smelled faintly of flowers and warm paper—certificates waiting to be handed over, futures folded neatly inside black folders.

William stood beside Est’s family, fingers fidgeting with the ribbon of a bouquet far too big for one person to reasonably carry. Blue and white. Est’s colors. His mother had insisted.

Est’s mom looked radiant, dressed elegantly but comfortably, pride glowing in her eyes even before her son appeared. Earn hovered beside her, already scanning the crowd with sharp focus.

“He’s going to trip if he walks too fast,” Earn said confidently.

William blinked. “What? Is it possible?”

“I’ve seen him do it before,” she continued. Somehow looking proud to revealed her brother’s unusual clumsiness. “Twice. Once on stage.”

“That was one time,” Est’s mom corrected fondly. “And he recovered beautifully.”

William smiled despite himself. Being folded into this family still felt unreal—warm, loud in the gentlest way, and completely unguarded.

His own mother leaned closer, lowering her voice. “Are you okay?” William nodded. “Yes. Just… excited.”

And nervous.
Very nervous.

Then the crowd shifted. Graduates began filing out. Black gowns, bright smiles, faces carrying relief and disbelief in equal measure. Est appeared among them like a calm anchor in moving water. William found him instantly. Tall, composed, eyes forward—but when Est’s gaze lifted and landed on them, something softened. The slightest curve of a smile, meant for family. And for William.

William forgot how to breathe.

“Oh my god,” William’s mom said, delighted. “Look at him. He looks so good. I knew it. I told your father-“

“Mom,” William hissed, ears already heating up.

Beside them, Est’s mother clasped her hands together, eyes shining. “That’s my son,” she said, proud and loud and entirely unbothered by decorum. Earn bounced on her heels. “P’Est! Over here!” she yelled, waving both arms like she was trying to flag a helicopter. Est broke formation just enough to lift a hand in acknowledgment, a quiet smile lingering.

By the time the ceremony ended and the graduates were released into the chaos of celebration, Est reached them quickly. He was hugged immediately—by his mother first, tight and lingering. “I’m proud of you,” she said softly. Est nodded. “Thank you, Mom.”

Earn followed, looping an arm around him. “You’re officially unemployed now.”

Est huffed out a laugh. “That’s not how it works.”

William’s mom quickly replaced Earn’s hug after she let go. “You did amazing, dear. Congratulations.” Est smiled sweetly, returned her hug, and simply said, “Thank you so much for coming, Aunty.”

Then he turned to William. For a second, the noise dimmed.

“Congratulations,” William said, offering the bouquet he’d been holding like a shield. “You were… really amazing.”

Est accepted the flowers, fingers brushing William’s. “Thank you,” he said quietly. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“As if I’d miss this,” William replied, a little too fast.

Est’s mom clapped her hands together. “Photo time!”

William froze.

“No—wait—”

Too late. He was gently but firmly pulled to Est’s side. Est, meanwhile, moved without hesitation-one step closer, shoulder brushing William’s, warm and steady. “Like this?” he asked calmly.

William nodded too fast. “Yes. That’s- that’s fine.”

Cameras were raised instantly—by Earn, by his mom, by someone’s aunt William didn’t even know.

“Smile!” William’s mom called.

William did—bright, slightly crooked, undeniably him. It wasn’t forced. It wasn’t practiced. It came easily-because Est was there, because the sun was warm, because for once his chaos didn’t feel out of place.

“Closer,” Earn added, completely unrepentant. Est leaned in even closer without hesitation, a steady presence at William’s side.

Someone nearby whispered, not quietly at all, “They look so good together.” William’s ears burned. Est, infuriatingly calm, murmured, “You’re blushing.”

“I am not.”

“You are.”

Click.
Click.
Click.

After the photos—and after William survived the ordeal with his dignity mostly intact—the moms drifted into conversation with the kind of enthusiasm that suggested something dangerous was about to happen.

“The engagement banquet is in two days, there’s nothing else left to contact right?” Est’s mom asked excitedly, eyes bright. William’s mom nodded eagerly. “No. I’ve checked it all just this morning. Two days is perfect. Enough time to rest, not enough time to overthink. “

William choked slightly on air.

“Oh! I just remember, now that we are here, we should invite their friends personally,” Est’s mom continued. “The ones they’re always with.”

“I’ve invite Willy’s besfriends personally yesterday, they came to hangout with Willy like always.” William’s mom said.

“Great!” Est’s mom beamed. “We’ll invite Est’s today, I bet they’ll be here soon.”

That was when familiar voices joined them.

“Congrats, man.”

Pond, wearing the same black gown with Est, approached with Phuwin at his side, both smiling warmly. Behind them came Daou, already mid-laugh, and Offroad, amused as always.

“You too, Bud!” Est gave a little bump to Pond, lips smiling warmly.

Daou clapped Est on the shoulder. “About time you graduated.”

“You say that like I wasn’t graduate faster than most already,” Est replied.

Daou’s gaze then slid to William, grin softening. “Good to see you again.”

“Likewise,” William said, bowing his head slightly.

The campus lawn slowly softened into something intimate as the crowd thinned—noise dissolving into laughter, laughter into memory. Sunlight lingered like it, too, was reluctant to leave. Graduation gowns fluttered past like dark wings, but around Est and William, the moment felt rooted, grounded by people who loved them in different ways yet stood in the same circle.

William stayed half a step behind Est without meaning to. It was instinct, old habit. But Est noticed—as he always did lately—and shifted just enough so their shoulders brushed again. A small thing. A loud one.

Introductions became reunions, and reunions became something warmer.

Pond and Phuwin greeted the moms, polite and easy, already familiar faces from past shared meals and chance encounters. Est’s mom clasped Phuwin’s hands with unmistakable affection.

“You must be so proud,” she said.

Phuwin smiled. “Very. He worked hard.”

Pond’s face was beaming, as if he himself couldn’t believe that he had just completed his master’s degree.

William watched them with fond amusement. He’d seen this dynamic before—loud chaos orbiting around Est’s calm center—but seeing it here, woven into family warmth, made something in his chest loosen.

Then Est’s mom turned fully toward the group, eyes bright, voice carrying the kind of warmth that refused to be ignored. “I know you’ve all received the formal invitations already,” she said, “but I wanted to say it to your faces.”

She reached out, touching Pond’s arm lightly, then Phuwin’s, then Daou’s sleeve, then Offroad’s shoulder—claiming them gently into the moment. “Please come to the engagement banquet. Not just as guests,” she added with a smile, “but as family.”

William felt his breath hitch.

Daou blinked once. Then grinned. “How could we say no after that?”

Pond laughed. “We wouldn’t miss it.”

Offroad inclined his head respectfully. “Thank you. We’ll be there.”

William’s mom stepped forward then, smiling wide, eyes soft as she looked between the young men. “You’ve all been part of Est’s life for so long,” she said. “We’re very happy to have you share this moment with us.”

Daou glanced at William, eyes dancing. “You hear that? You’re officially stuck with us now.” William laughed, a little breathless. “I think I already was.”

Est’s hand brushed William’s wrist—not holding, not yet—but steady. Anchoring. The air around them hummed with something gentle and expectant. Not just celebration, but recognition. Two families overlapping. Friendships folding in. Futures lining themselves up quietly, patiently, like chairs being set before a feast.

More photos followed. Laughter. Teasing. Earn insisting on selfies. Phuwin fussing over Pond’s collar. Est’s mother wiping at her eyes and declaring she was absolutely not crying. At one point, as the crowd shifted and the noise softened just a little, William found himself standing beside Est again, shoulder to shoulder.

“You survived,” Est said quietly.

William glanced at him. “Barely.”

The afternoon loosened its grip once the photos were done.

Est’s mom was the first to check her phone again, already half-elsewhere in her mind. “We really need to recheck the seating and the flowers,” she said, as if the banquet might fall apart without her constant vigilance. William’s mom laughed. “And the dessert table. Don’t forget the dessert table.”

Earn groaned fondly. “Please don’t start arguing about macarons again.”

They left in a cluster of voices and gentle chaos, waving back at the two boys like they were sending them off rather than the other way around. William watched until they disappeared beyond the row of parked cars, warmth still clinging to him like sunlight on skin.

Daou checked his watch next, slinging an arm around Offroad’s shoulders. “Corporate slavery calls.” Offroad nodded apologetically. “Congratulations again, Est.”

“And you too,” Daou added, turning to William with a grin. “Survive the banquet. That’s the real test.”

William laughed. “I’ll try.”

Pond and Phuwin lingered after that, as they always did—reluctant to let the moment end too cleanly.

“We’ll celebrate properly later,” Pond said. “Graduation, engagement—two birds, one very expensive stone.”

Phuwin smiled at Est. “Take care of him.”

William huffed. “I can hear you.”

“That’s the point,” Pond replied, already backing away.

When they were finally gone, the campus seemed to exhale. The noise faded into distant echoes—shoes on pavement, laughter carried by wind, a final cheer somewhere far off. It left just the two of them. William shifted his weight, suddenly aware of how quiet it had become. He tucked his hands into his pockets, nerves stirring again now that there was no one else to hide behind.

Est watched him for a moment, gaze unreadable, then softened. “Are you hungry?” he asked, casual, like the question hadn’t been sitting on his tongue for a while. William blinked. “Uh—yeah. I think so.”

Est nodded, decisive. “Good. Come have a late lunch with me.”

The words landed gently, but they carried weight. William’s heart skipped. “You mean… now?”

Est smiled, small and certain. “Now.”

A date, then—unlabeled but unmistakable.

William swallowed, nodded too fast, then tried to recover his composure. “Okay. Yeah. Late lunch sounds… great.”

Est turned toward the parking lot, trusting William to follow. And William did, a half-step behind again, smile creeping onto his face despite himself. The celebration would come later. The banquet, the speeches, the photographs frozen in time.

The car door closed with a soft, solid sound, sealing them into a quieter world. Est started the engine, the low hum settling beneath the space between them. The campus slid past the windows as he pulled out—banners still fluttering, clusters of graduates laughing too loudly, the day still buzzing with celebration.

William buckled his seatbelt, then immediately fumbled with the loose end, cheeks warming.

Est glanced over. “Nervous?”

“No,” William said, too quickly. “Just… victorious. Over the seatbelt.”

“Hm.” Est smiled like he didn’t believe him at all.

They drove for a minute, silence stretching—not awkward, but charged, like a held breath. William stared out the window, then remembered he was supposed to be normal now. Or at least… cooler. “So,” he began, clearing his throat. “Congratulations. Again. Officially.”

Est hummed. “You already said that.”

“I can say it more than once,” William said. “It’s… a big deal. You survived. Earlier than most even.”

“I had good motivation.”

William’s heart tripped. “Oh?”

Est glanced at him briefly, eyes amused. “I didn’t want to embarrass myself in front of my fiancé.”

William’s brain blue-screened. He laughed—too loud, too fast. “Right. Yes. That would’ve been… terrible. Very… embarrassing. For you.” Est chuckled, low and soft, clearly enjoying this far too much. “You’re blushing again.”

“I am not.”

“You are.”

William crossed his arms, then realized that only made it worse. “You’re imagining things.”

“I just graduated,” Est said calmly. “My eyesight is excellent.”

William tried—really tried—to flirt back. He turned, lifted his chin slightly, aiming for confident. “You know,” he said, “I was planning to congratulate you properly. With… composure. But you keep sabotaging me.”

Est laughed this time, openly. “I do?”

“Yes. You say things like that on purpose.”

Est shrugged one shoulder, steering with easy control. “Maybe I just like your reactions.”

William’s heart did something illegal. “Oh,” he said faintly. Then, because he was nothing if not persistent, he added, “Well. I… like your reactions too.”

Est raised a brow. “Which ones?”

William paused. “…The calm ones.”

“That’s all of them.”

“Exactly,” William said, proud of that save. “Very… attractive. From a psychological standpoint.”

Est shook his head, smiling to himself. “You’re terrible at this.”

“I know,” William admitted. “But I’m trying.”

“That’s obvious.”

They stopped at a red light. Est tapped the steering wheel lightly, then looked over—really looked this time. “You don’t have to force it, you know,” he said gently. “Talking. Flirting. Any of it.”

William swallowed. “I know. I just—” He stopped himself, then smiled crookedly. “I just don’t want you to think I’m… all nerves and no substance.”

Est’s gaze softened. “I’ve never thought that.”

The light turned green. The car moved again. William leaned back in his seat, heart still racing, but lighter now. The conversation drifted—to food, to how awful graduation gowns were, to whether celebrating twice was excessive or necessary (Est said necessary; William agreed immediately). Laughter filled the car, easy and warm.

And if William’s flirting kept tripping over itself,

Est didn’t seem to mind at all.