Chapter 1

The campus buzzed with the usual late-afternoon chaos. Students flooded the pathways between buildings, conversations overlapping into a constant stream of noise. Somewhere near the cafeteria, music blasted through cheap speakers while laughter erupted loud enough to turn heads. The scent of cut grass drifted from the soccer field where practice had ended not long ago.

Near the bleachers, a group of players occupied their usual spot on the concrete steps. Sports bags lay scattered around them, half-open water bottles rolling lazily whenever someone shifted. Their jerseys still clung damply to their skin from training under the heat.

Perth sat among them like he naturally belonged at the center of everything. One knee bent, arm resting casually over it, head tilted back as he listened to the others argue over today’s match. Sweat darkened the collar of his shirt, strands of hair sticking slightly to his forehead, yet somehow he still looked annoyingly put together.

“Captain, you barely moved today,” Ohm complained, bumping his shoulder with a grin. “You’re getting lazy.”

Perth let out a soft scoff. “Or maybe you’re just too slow to keep up now.”

A chorus of protests answered him immediately.

“Keep dreaming.”

“You almost lost possession twice.”

“Yeah, because he wasn’t trying,” New cut in. “Perth always gets away with everything anyway. Games, grades, people…”

At that, Perth laughed under his breath. “Grades? I’m surviving by luck alone.”

“That’s because you don’t hang around smart people,” Ohm replied. His voice lowered slightly as he glanced across the courtyard. “You should ask someone like him for help.”

Perth followed the direction of his gaze without much interest at first. Then he noticed him.

Under the shade of a large tree near the academic building, Santa sat alone with his headphones on, completely detached from the noise surrounding him. A notebook rested against one raised knee while his pen moved steadily across the page. Focused.

Perth had seen him before. Always early to class. Always sitting near the front. Always disappearing before anyone could start a conversation.

“Who?” Perth asked even though he already knew.

“Santa,” Ohm answered. “Top student in our year. Barely talks to anyone.”

“Pretty sure he thinks the rest of us are idiots,” another teammate added, earning a few snickers.

Perth kept watching him silently. There was something strange about the contrast. The entire campus moved loudly around Santa, yet he remained perfectly still inside his own world. Like nothing outside his books mattered enough to deserve his attention.

“Good luck getting him to notice you,” New teased. “Guys like him don’t care about people like us.”

Perth’s mouth curved slightly. “People like us?” he repeated.

“You know what I mean,” Ohm said. “Especially you.”

That finally dragged Perth’s eyes away from Santa. He leaned forward slowly, elbows resting against his knees, amusement flickering across his face.

“You saying I can’t?”

“Oh, I’m saying you wouldn’t last a week,” Ohm shot back immediately. “He’d reject you before you even got close.”

The challenge settled in the air instantly.

Perth clicked his tongue softly, confidence flashing across his features.

“One month,” he said casually.

The group fell quiet.

“What?”

Perth looked back toward the tree, gaze fixed on Santa again.

“One month,” he repeated. “I’ll get him into my bed.”

The reactions exploded around him immediately.

“No chance.”

“You’re insane.”

“Santa? Seriously?”

Someone laughed so hard they nearly dropped their drink.

Perth only shrugged, completely unbothered by the disbelief.

“Easy money,” he said. “You each owe me fifty when I win.”

More arguing followed, louder than before, but Perth barely listened anymore.

Because across the courtyard, Santa suddenly looked up. Not fully. Just enough for their eyes to nearly meet. Almost.

Then Santa looked away again as if nothing had happened. Perth smiled to himself. For some reason, that brief almost felt more interesting than if Santa had stared directly at him.

*

The following afternoon, the library offered a completely different atmosphere from the noisy campus outside. Cool air drifted through the quiet space while keyboards clicked softly in the background. The faint rustle of pages turning blended with the occasional whisper between students hidden behind shelves.

Santa sat near the tall windows in his usual corner. Everything around him looked organized with almost intimidating precision. Textbooks stacked neatly beside his laptop, highlighters lined up carefully, notes covered in tidy handwriting. Sunlight filtered through the glass and spilled across the table, catching against the silver frame of his glasses.

He didn’t notice the approaching footsteps at first.

“Hey.”

Santa’s pen paused mid-sentence.

He looked up and froze briefly.

Perth stood in front of the table with effortless confidence, one hand hooked into the pocket of his jeans while the other rested against the empty chair across from him. Like he had every right to interrupt.

Santa blinked once. “…Hi?”

“You’re in Advanced Maths, right?” Perth asked.

The question sounded unnecessary. Of course he already knew.

Santa slowly straightened in his seat. “Yes.”

“I need help.”

Direct. No embarrassment. No attempt to soften the request.

Santa frowned slightly. “Help?”

“With the latest chapter. Integrals.” Perth grimaced faintly. “I’m completely lost.”

That caught Santa off guard more than it should have. Perth never spoke to him. Not during lectures. Not outside class. Their worlds barely overlapped despite sharing the same campus.

So why was he here now?

“You have friends in that course,” Santa pointed out calmly. “Ask them.”

Perth shrugged. “They’re useless.”

Santa stared at him for a second longer than necessary, trying to decide if this was some kind of joke. “And you think I’ll tutor you?”

Perth pulled out the chair and sat down without asking permission. The movement was relaxed, natural, like he already expected Santa to agree eventually.

“You’re the smartest person there,” Perth said simply.

Santa hated how easily the compliment landed. His fingers tightened slightly around his pen “That’s not a reason.”

Perth studied him quietly for a moment. Up close, Santa looked even harder to read than he expected. Calm expression, steady voice, almost detached. But Perth noticed small things anyway. The tension in his shoulders. The way his eyes narrowed slightly whenever he felt irritated.

“You don’t like helping people?” Perth asked.

“That’s not what I said.”

“Then help me.”

There it was again. That confidence. Like rejection wasn’t even something he considered possible.

Santa exhaled softly through his nose, glancing down at his notes to gather his patience. Part of him wanted to refuse immediately. Another part, annoyingly enough, understood the situation. Perth might act careless during lectures, but Santa had noticed before that he still tried to keep up with assignments. Barely.

“…I don’t have much free time,” Santa said eventually. “I already have my own workload.”

A small smile appeared on Perth’s face, subtle but victorious. “We’ll keep it short.”

“That depends on how much you don’t understand.”

Perth laughed quietly. “Probably everything.”

The honesty surprised Santa enough to make him pause. After a few seconds, he finally nodded once. “…Fine. One session.”

Perth’s attention sharpened immediately.

“I’ll explain the chapter,” Santa continued. “After that, you’re on your own.”

“Fair enough.”

Santa reached for his notebook again, hoping that would end the conversation. “I usually stay here after class, so you can just come by tomor…”

“When?” Perth interrupted.

Santa looked back up, faint irritation returning instantly. “Tomorrow. Five o’clock.”

Perth tilted his head slightly. “Might still have practice then.”

“Then don’t come.”

The answer came out flat enough to almost make Perth laugh.

“Schedules exist, genius.”

Santa’s pen stopped again. “…Don’t call me that.”

Perth grinned immediately, clearly entertained by the reaction. “Alright. Then give me your number.”

Santa blinked. “What?”

Perth slid his phone across the table toward him. “So we can figure things out properly.”

Santa hesitated. Everything about this felt strange already. Perth was too comfortable, too persistent, too good at acting like this situation was completely normal.

“You can just come here,” Santa replied.

“And if I can’t?” Perth countered smoothly. “You want both of us wasting time?”

Annoyingly logical. Santa clicked his tongue softly under his breath before grabbing the phone. “…Fine.”

His fingers moved quickly across the screen before he set the device back down with a quiet tap. A second later, Perth’s phone buzzed. For some reason, the sound made the silence between them feel heavier.

“I’ll text you,” Perth said while slipping the phone into his pocket.

Santa gave a short nod and returned his attention to his notes, pretending his concentration hadn’t been disrupted at all.

“See you tomorrow.”

Perth stood and adjusted the strap of his bag over one shoulder.

Then, right before leaving, he added casually, “Try not to miss me too much until then.”

Santa stared at him in disbelief.

Perth only laughed softly before walking away.

This time, when he glanced back from the library entrance, Santa still hadn’t looked up.

But the faint tension around his expression gave him away enough.

*

Later that evening, Perth sent the first message.

Perth: Hey. It’s me.

Santa stared at the notification for a few seconds before replying.

Santa: I assumed so.

Perth smiled at his screen immediately.

Perth: Cold.
Perth: Not even a hello?

Santa: Do you need something?

Perth: Straight to business. I respect that.
Perth: Just checking about tomorrow. Still okay for 5?

Santa: Yes. Library.

Perth: You always answer like a robot?

Santa looked down at the message with a slight frown.

Santa: Clear communication avoids misunderstandings.

Perth: That sounds terrifyingly academic.

Santa: It’s efficient.

Perth chuckled quietly to himself while lying across his bed, one arm tucked behind his head. He could practically imagine Santa typing with the same serious expression he wore during lectures.

Perth: You make tutoring sound like emergency surgery.

A few seconds passed before another notification appeared.

Santa: Mathematics requires precision.

Perth laughed louder this time.

Perth: You’re actually kind of scary.

Santa stared at the screen longer than before.

For some reason, he couldn’t tell whether Perth was mocking him or genuinely amused.

Santa: Then study properly.

Perth: Yes, genius.
Perth: Sorry.
Perth: Couldn’t resist.

Santa rolled his eyes despite himself.

Perth: See you tomorrow, Santa.

A pause followed.

Then finally:

Santa: See you tomorrow.

——
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