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Chapter Text

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The distant echo of upbeat music fills the air somewhere within the campus while the stage lights flash faintly through the frosted glass of the tiny jail booth.

It was supposed to be a night of celebration - the school's founding anniversary, a chance for students to let loose and forget their deadlines for once. Instead, Namtan Tipnaree, a third-year film major student and self-proclaimed queen of spontaneity, found herself slumped against the wall of a poorly ventilated campus security booth.

She wasn't alone.

Beside her sat the quietest person she'd ever met in her life. Correction - not just quiet, agonizingly quiet. The girl, whose ID lanyard identified her as Film Rachanun, a Sophomore Architecture student, had barely spoken a word since they were shoved in here together an hour ago.

If it wasn't for those stupid dorks - Mark and Nanon - taunting her to re-enact a scene from their stage play after the dean's welcome remarks, she wouldn't be in this godforsaken situation right now and what pisses her off even more was the fact that her actual partner in crime got away with it!

"Damn you, Mark, Nanon & Milk. Count your days because once I get out of here..." she muttered under her breath, clenching her fists as she does so.

The clanking of handcuff chains resounded through the room, breaking Namtan's vengeful thoughts.

She side-eyed the girl beside her and then stared at her wrist in disbelief, the cold steel of the cuff biting into her skin. Attached to the other end of the chain was the wrist of the most motionless girl she'd ever met.

Film sat perfectly still; her expression unreadable as if being handcuffed to a complete stranger was just another Friday night for her.

"This has got to be a joke," Namtan finally groaned, rattling the chain between them for emphasis. She's the type who couldn't stand being silent for so long.

"Phi! Do you seriously think what I did was an offense? The dean has finished talking by then so it signals the start of the celebration!" She turned toward Kapook, a criminology student outside the booth window.

"Nong, I gotta wait for the go signal. I'll be in trouble if I let you two loose" Kapook reasoned sluggishly as she scrolled through her phone. Not even sparing Namtan a glance.

Film finally spoke, her voice calm but faint. "You were standing on a table shouting 'Viva la revolution'".

"She has a point!" Kapook said, matter-of-factly.

"That was a performance piece," Namtan shot back, indignation coloring her tone. "Art is meant to provoke emotions! It's not my fault that the school admin lacks imagination." She gestured dramatically with her cuffed wrist, accidentally tugging Film's arm forward.

"Ow! -" Film flinched, trying to yank her arm back.

"Sorry!" Namtan winced. "Goodness, this is a disaster. How did you even end up here, anyway? You don't exactly scream troublemaker."

Film sighed softly; her fingers doing invisible circles on the floor they sat on. "I was at the drinking fountain trying to refill my water bottle when suddenly I saw a girl running towards me, took a left turn and hid herself.

Next thing I knew, one of the designated student guards grabbed me by the arm and dragged me through the crowd, he may have mistaken me for someone else since we were wearing the same hair tie"

Namtan leaned behind and saw that the girl had her hair up in a ponytail using a thin, red lace. And it dawned on her - Milk Pansa! Her jaw dropped and bent her head down low, biting her lips.

Guilt starts to creep in.

"Kho Tohd kha Nong'Film, I'm sorry I dragged you into this stupid mess. The guard mistook you for my friend, Milk. The one I did the re-enactment with during the welcoming address earlier"

She turned to Film, bowing and doing the 'wai - ไหว้' gesture with her free hand as an apology. Her head briefly touching Film's shoulder.

Film flinched at the touch and a barely visible blush forms on her cheeks. She gripped the hem of her skirt upon realizing the close proximity between them.

She managed to cough out a little "It's fine Phi, don't worry about it" before scooching farther away from Namtan.

"This is quite the unexpected turn of events, huh?" Namtan huffed, blowing away a rogue hair strand stuck over her eyes.

Radio silence.

"I didn't think I'd end up here today. How about you?" She tried again. Film glanced at Namtan briefly, then looks back at the floor.

"Let me guess, if you weren't trapped here, since you're from Architectures, you most probably spend your time at benches or library? Sketching something, like buildings or maybe hmm, sceneries, am I right?" Namtan continued.

It's already bad that she's stuck in this miserable booth while her friends are out there having the time of their life, there's no harm in trying to befriend her 'inmate', plus, it'll make time pass by faster.

Film tugs at the cuffs nervously, avoiding eye contact albeit stealing a glance when Namtan's focus is elsewhere.

"Have you tried sketching people? If I pose like Queen Elizabeth, can you draw me?" she poses dramatically. "Like this?"

Film's lips twitch, almost like they're holding back a smile, but she quickly covers it by pretending to scratch her nose.

"The least we can do is keep each other company while we're trapped here, I don't bite you know." Namtan surmised. "I do bark though, woof woof!" she proceeds to mimic a dog, tongue out & holding one paw up with her free hand.

Film, surprised by the random silliness, looks at Namtan and couldn't help but chuckle, she shakes her head quickly and looks away.

"Aha! There we go, that's not so bad, was it?" Namtan grins, seemingly proud of her work.

- 🐥See you on the next chapter 🐼-

Chapter Text

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As the muffled sounds of festival rumbled through the walls, Namtan let out a long breath and slouched against the wall. "Well, looks like we're stuck here until God-knows-when. Might as well make the most of it."

Film tilted her head, her glasses slightly slipping down the bridge of her nose. "What does that mean?" she questions softly.

"It means we're going to have fun." Namtan's smile was wide and mischievous. "Or at least as much fun as two strangers handcuffed together in this freaking broom closet can have."

Film stared at her, unblinking. "That's rather concerning."

"Don't knock it until you try it, Nong"

The younger girl hesitated for a bit, but caved in later on.

They had nothing better to do anyway.

The fluorescent light buzzed softly above them, casting an unflattering glow over the cramped booth. Namtan tapped her fingers against her knee, thinking of something as it is her turn in playing "I spy". A good hour and a half had passed since they'd been locked up, they resorted to playing this little game to kill time.

Film looks at her expectantly.

"Hmm, I spy with my little eye - floodwater but make it tasty" says Namtan, she gives Film a sly, taunting smile.

"It's that half-full Thai tea drink" Film said, smiling and points to the drink on top of the teacher's table. Namtan's little ice breaker worked its magic as Film is slowly emerging from her high walls.

"Tsk. Smartypants. Fine, your turn" Namtan rolls her eyes.

Film giggles in return. Eyes disappearing into thin crescents; her face showing pair of whisker dimples.

Oh?

Those dimples.

They're cute.

Namtan thinks to herself. Film's laugh was soft and a little raspy, it scratches Namtan's brain in a good way.

"I spy with my little eye - something 'convenient' lying around" by this Film meant the empty 7-11 convenience store plastic bag by the trash bin.

"Convenient..." Namtan ponders and looks around the room. She points to a discarded subway card by the floor which earns her a shake of the head from Film. Namtan sighs and keeps repeating the word 'convenient' to herself while continuing to search through the room. She turns around and spots the trash bin.

"Oh!!! It's that thing!" shouts Namtan.

She finally sees the plastic bag and out of excitement she points it out using her hand that was handcuffed together with Film's and as a result, accidentally yanks the younger girl towards her and they both stumble on the floor with Film on top of her, their faces only inches away from each other.

A fuzzy, electric jolt shots through Namtan's body while her hands hold Film by the waist as a result of the fall. Normally, this isn't something that she feels; she has never been nervous about being affectionate towards her friends - especially her female friends, she could flirt and do skinship with them all day long like it's no big deal.

But for the first time in a long time, she feels shyness; she feels her palms sweating and a breath stuck in her throat.

Was it because Film is a stranger?

Or was it because this Film laughs adorably and has a pair of beautiful, doe-like eyes, now that Namtan notices as she unembarrassedly locks eyes with the girl on top of her.

"I spy with my little eye - something cute and red..." Namtan slowly whispers. Her eyes never leaving Film's face.

Film was already holding on for dear life with the way she's positioned on top of Namtan, it does not help that she's an introvert who's not used to physical contact. Her heart feels like a caged animal wanting to flee.

With heavy and jagged breathing, Film dares to lock eyes with the girl she's pinning down on the floor, her eyes travel down to Namtan's pointed nose and then to her plump, dewy lips.

"...Is it my hair tie?" Film murmurs. Recollecting Namtan's question.

"No"

"...it's your cheeks" Namtan mumbles as she gazes softly at Film and as if by reflex, her free hand caresses those cheeks, glowing in a rosy hue despite the dimness in the room. It was but a moment until Film couldn't keep up with it and adjusts herself away from Namtan, averts her gaze elsewhere as they sit together side by side.

Silence fills the room but they can't deny each other's frantic heartbeats.

Minutes passed in silence as both of them are lost in their own thoughts. None of them ever imagined a random school festival day to turn out like this. Both are in their own unchartered territory. Namtan being embarrassed and at a loss for words and Film in close proximity to the point of an embrace.

This deafening silence was broken as Namtan's stomach started to grumble in protest.

Film looked at her, surprised but amused. She looked down, biting her lips to suppress a laugh while Namtan scratches her head and smiles to herself.

"I guess we somehow need to find a way to eat" Film was the first one to break the silence.

"Me and my stomach are with you on that" Namtan agrees while pointing at her belly.

Film finally lets out a full-on, hearty laughter that she's been suppressing. She just met this girl today, but her voice, her laughter was already music to the older girl's ears.

Somehow Namtan decides that this day wasn't so bad after all.

- 🐥See you on the next chapter 🐼-

Chapter Text

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Namtan craned her neck to glance at the security desk through the glass window.

Empty.

Kapook was nowhere in sight. The realization struck her like a bolt.

"Wait... did she leave?!" Namtan bolted upright, yanking Film's arm along with her.

"Ow! Phi, what are you doing?" Film complained, clutching her wrist.

"P'Kapook" Namtan gestured toward the vacant desk. "She's gone. I think she went home!"

Film blinked, her expression slowly shifting from confusion to disbelief. "You're joking." The younger girl pointed to the wall clock. It was just around 8pm. "They're probably just out there enjoying the festival" she continued.

"-Stuffing their faces with Pad Kra Pao & Somtan while we're in here starving." Namtan dramatically surmised. Her stomach growled again, louder this time, and she let out a dramatic sigh.

"You know," she said, tilting her head "there's only one solution."

Film's eyes narrowed. "I'm afraid to ask."

"We make a jailbreak."

"No."

"Come on!" Namtan grinned, tugging on the handcuffs. "We'll sneak out, grab some food, and come back before anyone notices. Otherwise, we'll be skeletons in here by the time P'Kapook returns"

Namtan rattled the door handle, frustration etched across her face. "Locked. Of course, it's locked. Why wouldn't it be locked?"

Film sighed, glancing around the tiny room. There wasn't much to work with: a scratched-up desk, a rickety folding chair, a bulletin board covered in faded notices, and a metal filing cabinet that looked like it hadn't been opened in decades.

"This is pointless," she said. "Even if we get the door open, we're still stuck together. Someone will notice."

"That's a problem for Future Us," Namtan responded, grinning as she scanned the room. Her gaze landed on the filing cabinet. "What's in there?"

"I don't know but it's locked too. But from what I know, each class keeps a spare set of keys, or at least that's how it is for us over at Architectures"

"Well, let's find out!" Namtan dragged Film over to the cabinet, their cuffs clinking noisily as they moved. She yanked on the top drawer, but it didn't budge. "Figures. Nong'Film, do you have a hairpin or something?"

Film could only smile at her apologetically, although she suggested they check the teacher's table where a stack of loose papers was weighed down by an old, slightly bent ruler. Namtan's eyes shone with hope, she grabbed it and wiggled it triumphantly. "This'll do!"

"You're going to pick the lock with a ruler?" Film asked, skepticism dripping from her tone.

"Watch and learn."

Namtan crouched by the cabinet, wedging the ruler into the lock. She jiggled it with dramatic flair, making the handcuffs pull the other girl closer. Film sighed but knelt beside her, reluctantly holding the ruler steady.

"I don't think this is going to-" Film began, but a sudden pop cut her off. The drawer slid open with a metallic groan.

Namtan gasped. "Ha! Told you!"

Film blinked and looked at Namtan, seemingly amazed. "You actually... did it."

"I'm full of surprises," Namtan said with a wink. She yanked the drawer open further, revealing a random assortment of items: club registration forms, a pair of walkie-talkies, a flashlight, and - jackpot - a set of keys.

"Think these'll work on the door?" Namtan held up the keyring, her grin widening.

"Um, it won't hurt to try?" Film said.

They shuffled over to the door, their movements awkward as they tried to stay in sync with the cuffs. Namtan fumbled with the keys, her fingers brushing against Film's as they both tried to fit the key into the lock.

They froze for a bit and shared a bashful look at each other.

Film cleared her throat, eyes downcast "You try it first"

It seemed like an endless ordeal as they both took turns trying to unlock the door. Film's hand started to cramp which Namtan didn't fail to notice. She took the hand and started to gently massage it.

Suddenly, the wall poster about school policy seemed like the most interesting thing in the world right now for Film, choosing to stare at it intently; trying to distract herself from the fluttering of her heart.

"Nong'Film, Kho Tohd, I'm really sorry for this trouble. But...just stay with me, okay? Phi will take care of this, just sit beside me, you don't have to do anything"

Something in those words struck a chord inside Film.

Finally, her gaze fell to Namtan. She was engrossed in massaging Film's hand, her foxy eyes almost staring at it apologetically with each touch. It was then that Film realized that beneath Namtan's vibrant and wild exterior lies a tender and gentle warmth.

- 🐥See you on the next chapter 🐼-

Chapter Text

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Namtan peeked around the corner of the building, her eyes scanning the festival grounds for any familiar faces. The barbecue booth was tantalizingly close, its string lights casting a warm glow on the delicious rice bowls & skewers sizzling on the grill.

"Okay," she whispered, crouching slightly and dragging Film down with her. "The food's right there. We just have to get in, grab something, and get out without anyone noticing we're, you know..." She raised her cuffed wrist meaningfully.

"Illegally out of the jail booth?" Film deadpanned.

"Exactly." Namtan grinned. "This'll be a piece of cake. Or, uh, barbecue."

Film sighed; her expression nervous but not entirely disinterested. "But phi- how do you plan to hide these?" Handcuff chains rattling as she raised their joined hands. "They're kind of... obvious."

Namtan paused, her brow furrowing in thought. Then, as if struck by inspiration, she smirked. "Simple. We just act like it's intentional."

Film blinked. "Intentional?"

"Yeah, act normal, like we're close friends or like it's part of a costume or something!" Namtan leaned closer, wiggling her eyebrows.

Film surrenders. "I guess we have no other choice then", she adjusts the handcuffs, lets it settle a little higher above their wrists and covers it with the sleeves of their uniform.

"Alright partner, let's move, I may have a few paper bills in my pocket to get us through the night" Namtan said, tugging her toward the barbecue booth.

Partner?

A small smile tugs at her lips. Never in Film's life had she thought that the ever-famous Namtan Tipnaree would ever call her that, let alone know her existence.

As they approached, Namtan put on her most dazzling smile, her free hand casually brushing her hair back as if they weren't doing anything remotely suspicious. Meanwhile, Film, tried her best to look like she wasn't mortified.

When they reached the booth, the vendor greeted them with a wide grin. "Sawadee Khrab! What'll it be?"

"Phi'ka, two Chicken Satay and a bowl of Pad Thai please," Namtan said cheerfully, hands intertwined with Film's. She squeezed the other girl's hand lightly, a silent signal to play along.

"...and two Sugarcane drinks please" Film added.

"Oho- I'm almost sold out with drinks, only one sugarcane drink left" the vendor says, scratching his head and looks at the duo in front of him. He sees their clasped hands.

"...but I think you won't mind" he continues. "My youngest son also has a boyfriend. They're a cute couple like you. I'll give this drink as a freebie" he winks at them.

The duo freezes for a moment, their clasped hands suddenly feeling warmer than the midday sun.

Film's eyes dart to the ground as her cheeks flush a deep crimson. "O-Oh, um, we're not... I mean, it's not like that—" she stammers, glancing at her companion. Her voice grows softer with every word, barely audible by the end.

Namtan, wide-eyed and caught off guard, awkwardly clears her throat and rubs the back of her neck with her free hand. "Ah, t-thank you for the drink," she mutters, her ears tinged with pink.

Despite the awkwardness, neither of them makes any move to let go of each other's hand.

They ducked into the shadow of a nearby Plumeria tree, settling on a bench that was just far enough from the bustling festival crowd to feel safe. The soft glow of string lights twinkled in the distance, casting a warm, intimate ambiance over their makeshift hideout.

With the incident earlier with the vendor, Namtan tries to croak a small talk to dispel the awkwardness in the air.

"Mission accomplished?" she attempts, flashing a victorious grin.

"Mission accomplished." Film said, nodding shyly.

As both of them reach out for two different things, Namtan aiming for the skewers and Film with the noodle bowl, their hands clash, crisscrossing with each other.

"Uh, sorry" they muttered.

Namtan's face looking more defeated with each passing second. Film cleared her throat; she knows how hungry Namtan has been.

"Phi, how about we try some teamwork? You hold the skewers and since I'm left-handed, I'll take charge with the pad thai, sound good?" she grabbed the chopsticks with her free hand, carefully twirling some noodles. 

She lifted it toward Namtan's face, her movements clumsy but determined.

It was all too endearing as Namtan could only look at Film with a slight twinkle in her eye.

Am I embarrassed?

Nevertheless, her hunger won her over. She leaned in, biting into the noodles and chewing while trying to compose herself. "Not bad. Now it's your turn," she said, brings the skewer near Film, attempting to feed her.

Their coordination wasn't perfect—a noodle dangled from Namtan's lips, a chunk of Film's bite almost falling to the ground - they both burst out laughing. Slowly but surely, they fell into a rhythm, alternating between feeding each other noodles and taking turns with the skewers.

"This is... surprisingly nice," Namtan said after a moment, biting into her skewer.

Film looked at her, raising an eyebrow. "We're fugitives from campus security, eating skewers in the dark?" she asks innocently.

Namtan laughs, "You're so quiet earlier, didn't imagine you could be this funny--- got to admit, the food's worth it though".

Film took a cautious bite, and a faint smile tugged at her lips. "Okay. I'll give you that."

They ate in companionable silence for a while, the sounds of the festival blending into the background. Namtan glanced at their joined hands, still resting awkwardly on the bench between them and couldn't help but feel a brewing warmth in her chest, she couldn't put a name to it though.

"Crazy, weird night huh?" Namtan says, trying to distract herself from what she's feeling.

"Very." Film agrees, fidgeting with the noodle bowl that's now empty.

Namtan takes in the straw and sips from the sugarcane drink. Then with a small cough, she holds the cup to Film, gesturing her to take a drink. Film was hesitant at first, but gives in and takes a little sip from the same straw.

They both thought of the same thing silently - Indirect kiss

By the time the meal was done, their cheeks were flushed, but whether it was from the spicy food or the situation, neither could say.

"You know," Film says softly, glancing at their cuffed hands, "this is ridiculous, but kind of fun."

The older girl smiled, their hands brushing as she sets the drink down. "Yeah. I wouldn't mind being stuck like this again... maybe without the handcuffs next time."

Film's laughter rang out, light and genuine. "We'll see."

And as if by cue, a lone plumeria flower slowly falls and lands beside Namtan's free hand. She decides to give it to Film.

"A keepsake for today" she says bashfully, trying her best not to meet the younger girl's questioning look.

Chapter Text

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This has to be some sort of cosmic joke.

Of course, she would be the one I'd get handcuffed to. Of all people.

Film had known who Namtan was long before tonight. Everyone knew Tipnaree "Namtan" Weerawatnodom - extroverted, vibrant, and utterly magnetic, the kind of person who could light up an entire room just by walking into it. Film had seen her countless times around campus: standing on the tables in the arts courtyard, laughing loudly with her friends, hosting events that drew crowds of curious students. She was larger than life, a figure of confidence and charisma.

And Film? Film was the exact opposite. Introverted, steady & prefers order or routine, someone who would rather listen than speak up. The kind of person who blended into the background and went unnoticed. She wasn't the type of person someone like Namtan would ever notice.

Until now.

Film stole a glance at her, fixing her own glasses as an excuse, watching as Namtan grinned through a mouthful of Chicken Satay, her expression as carefree as ever. Even here, in the most absurd circumstances, she was still so... herself. Like being arrested, handcuffed, and stuck in a closet with a near-stranger was just another fun story she could tell later.

How does she do that? Film wondered, her fingers tightening slightly around the pair of chopsticks.

How does she make this look so easy?

The truth was, Film had always admired her - from a distance, of course. Namtan's passion, her confidence, the way she threw herself into every moment without hesitation. It wasn't just impressive; it was captivating. But Namtan had never even glanced in Film's direction before tonight.

To her, Film had been invisible.

And now? Now Namtan was here, holding her hand like it was the most natural thing in the world, joking about this ridiculous situation as if they weren't fugitives from campus security. Film could feel the warmth of her palm, the slight roughness of her fingertips, and it was doing dangerous things to her composure.

Get a grip, Film, she nagged herself.

This isn't some rom-com. She doesn't even know you.

Except... now she did. For the first time, Namtan Tipnaree knew Film Rachanun existed. And that thought terrified her more than being locked in that booth. It was out of her routine, a disorderly whirlwind of events that rocked her little world.

Film stared at the faint glow of string lights in the distance as they travel past the jail booth to another flight of stairs. As usual, Namtan suggested yet another ludicrous idea: Instead of returning straight to the booth, here they are on their way to "get some fresh air" at the rooftop of all places, as if the air circulating in the campus grounds isn't fresh enough.

Film's hand clutches the plumeria flower inside her pocket, the one Namtan gave her earlier, while the other remained trapped in Namtan's warm, insistent grip. Her pulse thudded softly in her ears, a steady, euphoric reminder of how close they were.

The night air was crisp and cool, carrying the faint sounds of laughter and music from the festival below. As they reached the rooftop, Film's breath caught. The entire campus stretched out before them, bathed in moonlight and dotted with the warm glow of string lights.

"It's beautiful," she murmured without thinking, her voice soft and full of wonder.

"Right?" Namtan said beside her, her excitement bubbling over as she tugged Film closer.

"Best view on campus, hands down. Well, one of the best. Second to the art studio, maybe."

Film blinked up at the sky, her heart fluttering. She wasn't used to moments like this - stolen, quiet, and just a little bit reckless. A part of her wanted to remind Namtan they really shouldn't be here, but the words caught in her throat. Instead, she let herself take in the scene, her fingers unconsciously tightening around the chain between them.

Namtan plopped down on the cool concrete, her movements casual and unbothered. She tugged lightly on the handcuffs, urging Film to sit beside her.

"Come on. This view's too good to waste standing."

Film hesitated before lowering herself beside the other girl, her knees drawn up slightly as she stole a glance at the other girl. Namtan looked so at ease, her face lit up in awe as she gazed at the stars. Film felt a little giddy, like she'd been let in on a secret she wasn't supposed to know - that Namtan, campus superstar, had a quiet side.

"Do you ever look at the stars?" Namtan asked suddenly, tilting her head back to rest against her palms.

"Y-yes" Film admitted shyly. "The solar system is fascinating..."

"Right? They're kind of magical. Like... they've been here forever, just waiting for us to notice them. It's the closest thing we can see aside from the sun and moon; the rest of the planets are out of our sight."

"Well, not really, there's a way if you wanted to take a closer look. We have telescopes."

"Oh yeah, I forgot about that. I bet that'd be so cool. What's your favorite planet then?"

"Pluto" answered Film.

Namtan turned to her; her expression amazed "For real?! Me too!

and then softens, "Tell me why"

Film may be quiet, but she sure is smart.

"Well, for starters, Pluto is an icy planet, it has frozen nitrogen, methane, and ice water. I like cold, comfy places. It's also the farthest among the other planets that orbit our sun, reminds me of something that seems so far away or so I thought..." she side-eyes Namtan

and then continues - "Did you know that a day in Pluto is equivalent to 6.4 Earth days? It's also the smallest, even smaller than Earth's moon! I find it cute, like a nong in their little solar space family." Film smiles as she explains intently.

Namtan found it adorably charming; the way Film explains; her hands gesturing here and there, the way she would occasionally fix her glasses and the glimmer in her eye when she talks about something she's passionate about.

Film was suddenly struck with self-awareness and muttered a quick apology for blabbering.

"Don't be. That's the most talkative you've been to me for the whole day and I like it."

Film peeks at Namtan through her glasses, "How about you? Why do you like Pluto?"

Namtan takes a deep breath and ponders briefly.

"I sympathize with it. It was once declared as a planet but was somehow kicked out after so many years. But at least, it's never alone - it has its moon, Charon, like destined lovers --- they are infinitely orbiting each other. For me, it's the love planet, it has this little heart-shaped mark called-

"Tombaugh Regio" they both said at the same time.

Both girls froze, their words hanging in the air like an unintentional secret they hadn't meant to share. For a moment, the silence between them lingered-awkward, tender and alive with endless possibilities.

Namtan finally let out a nervous laugh, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Jynx?" she said, her cheeks suddenly warm.

Film was still flustered at the fact that they had the same thing in mind and the wistful tone in Namtan's voice. She didn't know this girl could sound like this. She usually saw her surrounded by people, laughing and commanding the room's attention.

But here, Namtan seemed... different. Softer.

"I guess I don't stop to notice things like this lately," Film said quietly. "I've been too busy working on my designs."

Namtan perked up at that, her curiosity clearly piqued. "Oh yeah? What kind of designs?"

"Medical science, mostly because of my degree but if I'm not working on those, it's either Abstract or Animalism" Film said, feeling the familiar comfort of talking about her work. "I like animals and creating spaces where people can interpret things differently and yet each one of them finds comfort in their own interpretation, a space where no one needs to justify who's wrong or right"

Namtan was quiet for a moment, and when Film finally looked at her, she found the older girl watching her with an intensity that made her heart skip.

"That's really beautiful, Film," Namtan said, her voice warm. "You're like... an artist for feelings, you know?"

Film blinked, her cheeks flushing. "I-I don't know about that..."

"I do," Namtan said simply, her gaze unwavering.

Film ducked her head, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. She didn't know how to respond to that - to any of this. The giddiness bubbling in her chest made her feel like she was floating, but she didn't know how to let it out.

After a moment, Namtan shifted closer, their knees brushing. Film froze, her pulse quickening.

"The moon looks beautiful tonight," Namtan spoke softly, turning towards the skies and then closing her eyes, hair drifting softly in the cool night breeze.

And it was all so surreal for Film. How her world turned upside down in a single day. The faint sound of festivities below, the dark but glittery night sky and Namtan beside her looking absolutely breathtaking.

"The moon has been beautiful for a long time" Film utters, her gaze fixed unwaveringly at Namtan.

Film let herself relax. The stars above felt just a little brighter, and for once, she didn't mind being caught in Namtan's orbit.

- 🐥See you on the next chapter 🐼-

Chapter Text

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They went back to the booth quietly with no one noticing they were gone. P'Kapook finally arrived a few minutes after with apologetic eyes and a promise to treat them out for a meal for the trouble.

That was 2 hours ago.

They've both parted ways and went home.

Namtan collapsed onto her bed, tossing her shoes off with an exaggerated sigh. The night had been insane. She couldn't believe she'd spent hours handcuffed to someone, stuck in a jail booth of all places, and then sneaking around campus like a couple of delinquents.

And yet... when she closed her eyes, she couldn't stop thinking about it.

About her.

Film.

The memory of their time on the rooftop kept coming back to her - the way Film had looked at the stars & moon, like she was seeing them for the first time. The way Film's voice had softened when she talked about her designs, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her shirt as if she was nervous to share something so personal.

Namtan had been with a number of girls who purposely acted shy in front of her as an attempt to be charming whatsoever but she always saw through it and played along, but with Film, it was genuine, it was frustratingly cute.

Film, the quiet, reserved girl from the architecture department. The one everyone else ignored, or wrote off as too shy, too serious. The one Namtan had barely noticed until tonight.

Namtan shifted onto her bed, propping her head up with her arm as she stared at the ceiling. It had been a crazy night, but... a fun one. She couldn't stop the small smile that tugged at her lips when she thought about how Film had acted - how they had acted together. Handcuffed and thrown together in a jail booth, the scheming, the thrill of escaping, little shy smiles as they play-pretended as a couple, the way Film had looked at her when Namtan said something a little too bold. It was all so... real, and she'd honestly been a little shocked by how comfortable Film had gotten once they'd been alone. The walls around her seemed to fall away, just a little.

And it was new to Namtan as well; she's had a lot of female friends that she's bonded with but never felt shy, never felt her palms sweat or found herself stunned and at a loss for words.

And maybe... just maybe, Namtan had liked it. A lot more than she should've.

Namtan bit her lip, rolling over onto her stomach as she stared down at her phone, the glow from the screen illuminating the dark room. She was trying to look for Film's profile online, but it looks like she doesn't have any or uses a different username.

She's a complete idiot for forgetting to ask for Film's number.

How can she contact her now?

What would she even say?

Will she even see her again?

It wasn't like they were friends, exactly. They'd barely spoken before tonight, and now? Now she felt like she had all these feelings she wasn't sure how to unpack. Sure, Film was quiet and reserved, but there was something about the way she listened.

Something about the way Film seemed to let herself be seen, just a little bit, when Namtan cracked through the surface. Namtan had spent her whole life putting on a show, being loud, being seen. But Film? She was different. She didn't hide behind a persona. It was like she was a puzzle Namtan couldn't quite figure out, and she found that irresistible.

She could still feel the way their hands had brushed when Film nervously touched her fingers on the rooftop. It had been a simple, almost accidental touch, but it had lingered in a way that made Namtan's heart race. It was like Film hadn't realized how much that moment meant to Namtan, how much her shy, accidental touch had sent Namtan's mind spinning.

Namtan chuckled, pressing a hand to her forehead. "This is absurd," she muttered. "It's just Film. She's... she's just Film."

But that wasn't true, was it? Film wasn't just the quiet girl who sat in the back of class or the one who kept to herself. She was... more than that. And for the first time in a while, Namtan wasn't sure if she could just let this go.

What had happened tonight wasn't just a random encounter. It was something deeper. Namtan had felt it, and from the way Film had looked at her when she mentioned the moon, when she smiled shyly, Namtan was pretty sure Film had felt it too.

Could she be crushing on her?

The thought made Namtan's stomach flutter in a way she hadn't expected. The idea was both exhilarating and terrifying. She wasn't the type of person who got nervous or second-guessed herself. But with Film, everything felt different.

She could still hear Film's quiet laugh when Namtan had teased her under the Plumeria tree, the way her eyes had softened, even if she hadn't admitted it. And the fact that Film had smiled back - really smiled, not just that polite, reserved smile she gave to everyone else - made Namtan's chest tighten in a way she didn't quite understand.

The more Namtan thought about it, the more she realized how much she wanted to see Film again. Not just to talk about school projects or gossip like they were casual acquaintances. She wanted to know Film, wanted to spend more time with her in a way that wasn't confined to a ridiculous situation like tonight.

Namtan closed her eyes, a small sigh escaping her lips. Maybe she'll do merit tomorrow and hope for Film's number to appear miraculously on her phone. And then maybe she'd ask if Film wanted to grab a coffee or check out a new exhibit. But for now, the memory of the night would have to be enough.

And maybe... just maybe, Namtan had developed a little crush on her quiet, mysterious, and surprisingly charming classmate.

- 🐥See you on the next chapter 🐼-

Chapter Text

🎵

Film closed the door to her room with a soft click, the quiet of her dorm room enveloping her like a heavy blanket. She hadn't even noticed how tense she'd been, how much she'd been holding her breath until now, now that she was finally alone.

She recalls that fateful day in her freshmen year.

It was years ago, when she first saw Namtan across the crowded campus quad. Namtan had been recruiting members for their theater club. She was entertaining yet polite; she performed a short song performance and her voice cut through the noise like music.

Film had only caught glimpses of her then, she was tall and would demand one's focus even from afar, her eyes were the most alluring pair she's ever seen, foxy – the type you could get lost into for hours. And she has this way with people that could command the attention of a whole room without even trying.

At first, Film just watched from a distance, fascinated by the energy that seemed to surround Namtan. She never understood how someone could be so effortlessly outgoing, so alive. But as the days passed, something shifted in Film. It wasn't just the way Namtan filled the room. It was the way she made Film feel, it was admiration at a level Film had not felt for anyone until now.

Namtan looks prettier by the day despite her recklessness and careless antics, she would notice Namtan's empathy for others, her attempts to liven up the atmosphere, or talk to someone that's being left out in a circle. 

Film was always there, in the background, a quiet observer and although they had never had any interaction, somehow she felt that Namtan could easily be a comfort zone, like a shed in the middle of a torrential rain. And when Namtan's eyes accidentally met hers across the hallway—just for a brief second—Film felt a flutter she couldn't ignore.

Namtan didn't even know I existed back then, Film thought with a small smile.

She had admired Namtan from afar, quietly, never daring to speak up or make her presence known. She was the shy, introverted girl who never seemed to fit in with Namtan's loud and confident world.

But still, Film watched.

And then this night happened.

The whole thing felt surreal. The handcuffs, the jail booth, sneaking around campus like a couple of criminals. She'd been so sure that the night would be a mess the moment she was dragged by the campus police for a mistaken identity, that she'd just end up sitting in the booth with some random person, waiting to be rescued. But that wasn't how it turned out.

It had been... unexpected.

She sank onto her bed, running a hand through her hair, chuckling to herself. Namtan had been different than she expected. Loud, sure, but not in the way Film thought. It wasn't just noise—there was something surprisingly profound about the way Namtan thinks, it's not always a comedic act, she can also hold a conversation – a deep, meaningful one.

Film found herself laughing, too. It's been a long time since someone had made her laugh like that and Namtan does it so effortlessly. It was like a heavy load was lifted off of her shoulders, the first time she'd felt like she wasn't just existing around. Like she could just be herself.

And the way Namtan had looked at her, like she really saw her, made Film's heart flutter in a way she wasn't prepared for.

Film buried her face in her pillow, her heart still racing.

She couldn't stop thinking about the rooftop, about the way Namtan looked at her when she asked about the planets and the stars. The way they had intertwined hands at the noodle shop, even if it was just for show, Film's mind kept replaying that moment over and over again. Her heart still raced just thinking about it.

Is this what a crush feels like?

The thought was so foreign to Film, she's very particular with the people she opens up with, she guards herself well, but it didn't stop the rush of warmth that spread through her chest. She wasn't sure what to call it, this fluttering in her stomach every time Namtan crossed her mind.

She wasn't the type to get all... giddy over someone, but with Namtan, everything felt like it was shifting.

She pressed her hand to her chest, feeling her heartbeat as if it was a physical thing. Her mind kept coming back to those small moments. Namtan's laugh, her eyes lighting up when she was talking about Pluto and its Charon. She'd never seen someone so genuine, and it made Film feel like she was doing something she hadn't allowed herself to do in a while — letting herself be seen.

She basks in this feeling for quite some time before giving herself a reality-check.

This is the closest I'll ever get to her, Film thought, her chest tightening.

One night. 

That's all this is.

Tomorrow, she'll go back to her world, and I'll go back to mine.

- 🐥See you on the next chapter 🐼-

Chapter Text

🎵

The sun was barely rising, casting a soft orange glow over the campus streets as Namtan and Milk made their way to class. Milk slurped noisily on her iced coffee, her oversized tote bag swinging at her side. Meanwhile, Namtan walked in silence, her hands jammed into her hoodie pockets, her eyes glued to the ground.

Milk nudged her shoulder, breaking the quiet. “You’ve been weird since the festival, Namtan. Real weird. What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Namtan muttered, her voice tight.

Milk raised an eyebrow and let out a dry laugh. “Oh, come on. You were literally locked up during the fair, and you’re acting like that’s normal.”

Namtan shot her a sharp look. “You’re the reason I was locked up in the first place!”

Milk’s grin widened, completely unapologetic. “Hey, I told you to run faster. It’s not my fault you’re slower than campus security.”

Namtan groaned, her shoulders slumping. “You ditched me, Milk! And then some poor girl got dragged into the mess because of you.”

Milk waved a hand dismissively, though a flicker of guilt crossed her face. “Yeah, yeah, I feel bad about that part. But look, I knew you’d handle it. You’re tough! And, I mean, it’s not like you were completely alone, right?”

Namtan froze for a second, the memory of the jail booth flashing through her mind. The awkward silence, the quiet conversations, and those fleeting glances that felt way more significant than they should have.

Milk noticed the slight hesitation and pounced like a cat on a mouse. “Wait a second.” She narrowed her eyes, stepping in front of Namtan to block her path. 

“Who were you stuck with?”

“No one,” Namtan said quickly, brushing past her.

Milk’s jaw dropped in mock outrage. “No one? You’re telling me you spent all night in that booth and didn’t even talk to the person who was literally handcuffed to you?”

“I didn’t say we didn’t talk,” Namtan mumbled, her face heating up.

Milk gasped dramatically, grabbing Namtan’s arm. “Oh my God. You did talk! Who was it?”

Namtan bit her lip, her ears turning red. “It doesn’t matter. It was just… some girl from the Faculty of Architecture.”

Milk tilted her head, her curiosity growing. “Architectures, huh?”

“She didn’t do anything…” Namtan said sharply, surprising even herself with the edge in her voice.

“She was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

Milk blinked at her, then let out a low whistle. “Wow. You’re actually defensive about this girl. That’s new.”

“I’m not defensive,” Namtan grumbled, kicking a pebble on the sidewalk. “I just… feel bad. She wouldn’t have been there if it weren’t for us.”

Milk studied her for a moment, then smirked. “Okay, but if she was mad about it, she’d probably have ignored you, right? So, what happened? Did you two bond? Was it all ‘stuck-in-a-cage enemies-to-lovers’ vibes?”

Namtan’s eyes widened and her face turned bright red. “You’re insufferable”

Milk threw her head back and laughed, slinging an arm around Namtan’s shoulders. “Oh, this is so good. Did you develop a crush overnight?”

“I did not!” Namtan protested, shrugging off Milk’s arm.

“You did,” Milk sang, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “How long have we been friends? You think I don’t know you? Your face has subtitles! You’re terrible at hiding it.”

“I wasn’t!”

“Right, and I’m the queen of London,” Milk teased. “Come on, what’s her name? I promise I won’t tell anyone.”

Namtan stayed silent, her face burning.

Milk sighed, shaking her head in mock disappointment. “Fine. Keep your little secret. But if I see you staring off into space again, I’m going to figure it out. You know I always do.”

Namtan groaned, picking up her pace to get away from Milk’s relentless teasing. But deep down, she couldn’t shake the memories of that night—or the way Film’s soft smile had stayed in her mind ever since.

- 🐥See you on the next chapter 🐼-

Chapter Text

🎵

The classroom was abuzz with the low hum of discussion, the scratching of pens against paper, and the occasional thud of a book being closed. 

Namtan sat at her desk, chin resting in her palm as her eyes lazily drifted toward the window. She was supposed to be taking notes, but the professor’s voice blurred into background noise.

All she could think about was the night at the jail booth.

It had been days since it happened, but the memories were fresh and vivid—Film’s calm voice, the subtle curve of her smile when she talked, the way her laugh sounded like something soft and rare.

Namtan groaned softly and scribbled aimless doodles in the corner of her notebook, she didn’t understand why she couldn’t shake this feeling. It wasn’t like her to dwell on anyone like this.

The bell rang, jarring her out of her haze.

She wandered aimlessly through the campus grounds until her steps slowed as she passed by the quieter part of campus, where the noise of students faded into birdsong and rustling leaves.

And then she saw her.

Film was sitting under a tree, on the grass with her knees drawn together. A wide, leafy canopy shaded her from the sun, its dappled light filtering through the branches and casting intricate patterns across her skin. She had a sketchpad balanced on her lap, her hand moving steadily as she drew, completely absorbed in her work.

Namtan froze, her heart skipping a beat.

Film looked… stunning.

There was no other word for it. Her hair was tucked behind her ears, a few loose strands falling delicately around her face. Her profile was serene, her brow slightly furrowed in concentration, lips parted just enough to show she was lost in thought.

Namtan’s breath caught as she noticed how peaceful Film looked—like she belonged in a painting herself, sitting there in the golden light, creating something beautiful without even trying.

As if sensing someone’s gaze, Film looked up, her eyes scanning the area until they landed on Namtan. For a moment, neither of them moved. Film blinked in surprise, then gave a small, shy smile, her head tilting slightly in acknowledgment.

Namtan felt her heart leap into her throat. She managed a hesitant wave, unsure what else to do.

Film didn’t say anything, but her smile lingered before she returned her focus to her sketchpad.

The moment felt fleeting yet significant, as if it had etched itself permanently into Namtan’s memory.

She stood there for a few more seconds, mustering up the courage she needed. Namtan opened her mouth to say something, anything, but just as she was about to speak, another voice rang out.

“Film!”

A petite girl with a cheerful smile and a stack of books tucked under one arm walked up, waving.

Namtan froze mid-step, her words dying in her throat as Film looked up and smiled warmly at her friend.

“Oh, hey, Love” Film said, setting her sketchpad aside.

Namtan hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do, but the knot of anxiety growing in her stomach made the decision for her. She turned around and walked away quickly, hoping she hadn’t been noticed.

As she rounded the corner of a building, a familiar voice made her stop dead in her tracks.

“Well, well, well,” Milk drawled, leaning against the wall with a smirk.

“What do we have here?”

Namtan groaned inwardly. “What are you doing here?” she asked, trying to sound annoyed rather than panicked.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Milk said, crossing her arms. “But I think I already know the answer.” She cocked her head, her grin widening. “Don’t tell me you were about to make a move on Miss Shady Tree over there.”

She tried to convince herself that it wasn’t that big of a deal. They’d spent the night together—well, not together—but the night had happened, and it had felt like they had connected, even if neither of them had spoken much about it since.

Namtan shifted uncomfortably, her heart racing. “It’s… it’s not like I’ve been thinking about her that much,” Namtan mumbled, avoiding Milk’s gaze. “It’s just... I don’t know. We just got stuck in that booth the other night, and now everything feels weird but in a good way, do you get me?"

Milk grinned knowingly, nudging Namtan with her elbow. “You’ve got that dreamy look in your eyes. You like her, don’t you?”

Namtan’s hands clenched at her sides, and she finally let out a long sigh. “Yeah, okay, fine. Maybe I do like her. But I don’t know what to do about it! I keep seeing her, and I want to say something, but every time I look at her, I freeze”

Milk nodded slowly, her grin fading into a more thoughtful expression. “This is new,” she said softly. “You’ve never had problems hitting on someone”

Namtan bit her lip and nodded. “I guess. I don’t know what she thinks about me. I don’t even know if she’s interested…”

Milk tilted her head, eyeing Namtan with a raised eyebrow. “Why don’t you ask her, then? Just go up and talk to her. Don’t overthink it.”

Namtan shook her head, frustration bubbling up again.

Milk placed a hand on Namtan’s arm, cutting her off. “Look. If you don’t make a move, nothing’s going to happen. If you like her, you need to say something, even if it’s just a little something to start with. Otherwise, you’re going to keep sitting here, looking like a lost puppy every time she’s near.”

Namtan nodded, the weight in her chest easing just a little. Maybe Milk was right. Maybe it was time to stop staring from a distance, time to take a chance.

- 🐥See you on the next chapter 🐼-

P.S. We are nearing their next encounter :')

Chapter Text

🎵

Film’s pencil moved lightly over the paper, the lines taking shape with ease. She didn’t need to look up for reference—this image was etched clearly in her mind.

The curve of the bench came first, soft and familiar, its wooden slats carefully shaded. Then came the delicate petals of the plumeria flower, resting on the bench like a quiet memory. 

She paused, glancing briefly at the real flower lying beside her on the grass, the same one Namtan had given her that night. Its scent was faint now, but it lingered enough to pull her back into the moment.

Her pencil hovered for a moment before she began sketching the two hands.

She started with one—a slender, steady hand with faint smudges along the fingertips, her own. It rested lightly on the edge of the bench, palm down, as if waiting.

Then she moved to the other hand.

She remembered it clearly: Namtan’s hand, with its long fingers, her small, dainty veins almost embossed under her alabaster skin, and the way it had been so close to hers that night. Almost touching. Film bit her lip, carefully outlining the subtle tilt of the hand, leaving just the slightest gap between the two.

She stopped and studied the sketch, admiring her work as she took it all in. There was something so tender in the way their hands seemed to belong there, suspended in that almost-moment.

The flower came last.

Film drew it right there on the bench, in the tiny space between their hands. Her mind replayed the way Namtan had handed it to her, brushing it off as though it was no big deal. But the gesture had lingered with Film, soft and sweet, much like the flower itself.

She leaned back and stared at her sketch, her pencil still in her hand. It was simple, quiet, but it felt… meaningful. It wasn’t just a memory; it was a feeling—a mixture of warmth, awkwardness, and something new that she didn’t want to name just yet.

Film’s gaze drifted to the real plumeria lying next to her. She reached for it absentmindedly, twirling it between her fingers as her thoughts wandered back to Namtan.

She wondered if Namtan remembered the moment as vividly as she did—or if it had been just another fleeting night for her.

Film looked up for a moment, hoping to stretch her cramping shoulders when suddenly, she sees Namtan standing across the lawn, partly hidden by the dappled shadows of a nearby tree. Her posture was stiff, her gaze locked on Film like she’d been caught mid-thought.

Film’s heart gave an unexpected, sharp thud, followed by an odd fluttering sensation in her chest. 

For a moment, her brain scrambled to process the scene. Namtan wasn’t doing anything extraordinary—she was just… standing there, looking at her—but the intensity of her gaze made the air feel heavier.

Film swallowed hard, suddenly hyperaware of everything—her messy hair, the smudges on her fingers, the slightly crooked way she was sitting. 

She didn’t know what to do, so she smiled, small and hesitant, hoping it looked natural and not as awkward as it felt.

Namtan raised her hand in a shy wave. The gesture was so simple, so endearingly unsure, that she almost laughed at how her own hand trembled slightly as she returned the wave.

“Film!” she heard her friend say.

“Oh, hey, Love”

Film tucked the flower into her sketchbook, right next to the drawing. She closed it carefully, as though protecting the memory. 

With a sigh, she looked at Namtan, now seemingly turning around and walking away. 

- 🐥See you on the next chapter 🐼-

Chapter Text

🎵

The hustle and bustle of the road from the campus is gradually increasing, the streets are lined with a blend of warm amber and light indigo, establishments have come alive as restaurants start preparing for a busy shift. Vehicles honk and pass by trying not to get caught with the dusk’s rush hour.

Film jogged lightly down the sidewalk, clutching her sketchbook to her chest. She was running late—her last class’s professor had way too much energy yapping but so little time left, so now she had to catch the next bus if she wanted to make it home before dark.

Meanwhile, Namtan had been walking the same route, earbuds in, casually daydreaming. She’d planned to head home earlier but decided to take the long route to drop Milk off at the radio station where she does part-time.

When she turned the corner, her steps faltered.

Standing there at the bus stop was Film.

Namtan blinked, her heart doing an unexpected flip. She had never seen Film here before—this wasn’t even the route she usually took.

What were the odds?

Did Milk manifest this for me? she asked herself.

The faint rumble of the bus echoed down the street, Film tucked her sketchbook into her bag, and Namtan found herself walking toward the stop without thinking. The bus pulled up, its brakes squealing as the doors hissed open.

Film frowned slightly as she stepped onto the bus, she squeezed through the narrow aisle until she reached a small space near the window, gripping the overhead pole for support.

Namtan boarded right behind her, her eyes instinctively scanning for Film in the crowded bus. When she spotted her standing by the window, her shoulders tense and her fingers clutching the pole, Namtan didn’t think twice. She weaved through the throng of people, trying to get to Film, whose eyes were downcast from the moment she settled on that little corner in the bus.

It was cramped, impossibly so, and Namtan realized there was no way to stand without being too close. The jostling of the bus made it worse—people stumbled into each other with every turn, and she watched as Film pressed herself against the window to avoid being shoved.

Namtan shifted, planting her feet firmly on the ground. Before she could second-guess herself, she reached up to grab the pole with one hand and angled her body to shield Film from the crowd.

Film glanced up at her, her wide eyes meeting Namtan’s.

“Phi’Namtan? What are you doing here? —” there were a lot of questions running through her mind.

Film looked at her up and down, worried, scanning if the other girl was alright.

“It’s fine,” Namtan says, smiling sheepishly. “Just hold onto the window or something.”

Film blinked, her cheeks tinting pink as she nodded.

The bus jolted abruptly, sending everyone lurching forward. Film gasped, losing her footing as her body lurched toward the older girl. Her hands instinctively gripped the sides of Namtan's waist for support.

Namtan leaned closer on reflex, bracing one arm against the window behind Film.

A faint tension rippled through Namtan’s abdomen at the unexpected touch. She quickly turned her head toward the road, trying to focus on anything but the fluttering stirring within her.

“Hey, watch it!” a passenger yelled, shoving another aside. The commotion caused one of them to stumble, crashing into Namtan from behind and pushing her even closer — with Film’s nose brushing Namtan’s cheek.

She’s almost kissing Namtan at this point.

Now, they were impossibly close. Film’s back was almost pressed against the window, she could clearly see the older girl’s plump lips, she shifted her gaze elsewhere, heart pounding rhythmically.

“Are you okay?” Namtan asked, her gaze flickering down to check on Film.

Film nodded quickly, her breath hitching slightly.

She smells like baby powder. She thought.

“Yeah. Just… tight space.” She gave a small, nervous laugh, her fingers brushing against the cool metal of the window frame.

Namtan swallowed hard, her pulse racing as she realized just how close they were. The small space between them felt charged, the warmth of Film’s presence making the already stuffy bus feel even hotter.

She tried to focus on keeping her balance, but her eyes kept drifting to Film’s face—how her lashes fluttered when she blinked or how she could feel Film’s hot breath brush her own cheek.

Film glanced up at her again, her gaze locking onto Namtan’s.

For a moment, neither of them spoke, the noise of the bus fading into the background. Namtan’s lips parted slightly, but for some dumb reason, she couldn’t fully muster up the courage she needed, so she closed her eyes while blurting out the words-

“Nong’Film, I-I..” she stammers.

“I was wondering if it’s alright with you, If I could…If I could maybe get your… number?” the last part almost a whisper.

The bus was packed and they were so close to each other, Film was definitely sure of what she heard.

I was just thinking and sketching about you – Film thought to herself and suddenly, by some twisted fate, Namtan is here in front of her, asking for her number.

Thousands of butterflies just spawned in her stomach. She couldn’t hold back the smile forming on her lips nor the apparent reddening of her cheeks and since it was impossible to take her phone out from her bag, she snatched a pen that was safely tucked by the side pocket of her bag.

Namtan had mentally prepared herself for rejection, giving herself a pep talk just in case. With her eyes still shut, she braced for an excuse, but none came. Instead, she felt something cold and slightly ticklish against her arm, the one resting on the window to keep Film protected from the other passengers.

She opened her eyes to see Film scribbling something on her arm.

“Sorry, it’s too cramped in here, I can’t reach for my phone” says Film, eyes focused on writing her number on Namtan’s arm instead.

She steals a quick glance at a seemingly bewildered Namtan and smiles to herself, feeling giddy.

“Phi, my stop is here. Thanks again,” she said softly, her gaze lingering on Namtan’s for a moment longer than necessary.

Namtan nodded, her lips quirking into a small smile.

Film stepped off the bus and waits until the it leaves, her body still tingling from the closeness they’d shared. She offers Namtan a sincere, grateful smile from outside the window. Namtan could only nod and stare at her adoringly, doesn’t matter if she’s getting quashed by the rest of the passengers inside.

As the bus pulled away, Namtan slumped against the pole, letting out a shaky breath.

She takes a good look at Film’s number written on her arm.

Maybe fate really is on my side.

Namtan thought, her chest swelling with quiet hope.

- 🐥See you on the next chapter 🐼-

Chapter Text

🎵

Namtan gets home, drops her bag on the floor, and flops into her gaming chair, spinning around with a grin. 

She still can't believe she got Film's number. As she soaks in the moment, she suddenly remembers what Milk told her earlier.

Guess it actually pays to listen to her sometimes.

Feeling generous, she orders a slice of strawberry cheesecake and an iced chocolate to be sent to the radio station—Milk is always sipping on something, after all. Grabbing her phone, she snaps a quick pic of her forearm and shoots Milk a text.

Namtan:  Okay, fine. Your dumb ideas actually work. You're the best. Also, food's on the way—enjoy! xoxo

A few minutes later, her phone buzzed.

Milk: NO WAY YOU ACTUALLY SENT FOOD?? I WAS ABOUT TO STARVE. 😭💖

Milk: Wait—what do you mean dumb idea? Why are you being suspiciously nice?

Namtan smirked and sent a photo in reply.

It was a picture of her forearm, fresh with Film's phone number on it.

Namtan: Santa's gift for me came early

Milk: WAIT—! IS THIS HER NUMBER?? NAMTAN, YOU'RE DOWN BAD.

Namtan: Shhhhhh. Let me have this moment. 😌

Milk: I demand full details tomorrow, Tipnaree 🙄

Namtan: Yeah, yeah. Whatever.

Namtan lies on her bed, now freshly bathed except she had one arm up in the shower, fearing the water would wash away Film's number despite already saving it on her phone, somehow, she just wanted to keep Film's personal handwriting on her arm for a little longer.

And now she stares at the number scribbled on her arm. Fingers hovering over the screen as she debates texting. She's never been the type to hesitate, but something about Film makes her pause.

Should I text first?

Would that be too eager?

Maybe I should wait.

No, what if she thinks I forgot about her? Ugh.

She groaned into her pillow before taking a deep breath and starts typing.

Meanwhile on the other side of town, Film was curled up on her bed, hugging a pillow, her phone resting beside her. She keeps glancing at it, heart pounding. She may not want to admit it, but she was expecting for a certain somebody to hit her up. She turns to the other side and talks herself out of it.

She may be too tired from the commute, she thought.

Suddenly, her phone buzzes.

In a flash, she sits up cross-legged on her bed, eyes locked on the screen.

Namtan: Hi, Nong'Film. It's Phi'Namtan. Hope you got home safe.

Her heart did a little flip when she saw the name.

She took a deep breath before replying.

Film: P'Namtan! Hi. I was actually wondering if you'd text... but I wasn't sure if you'd want to.

Namtan grinned at her phone, rolling onto her back.

Namtan: Want to? Nong, I risked my life in that bus just to get your number. Of course I wanted to.

Film giggled, hiding her face behind her hands. She bit her lip, typing.

Film: Thanks again for earlier. You... didn't get squashed, did you?

Namtan: I survived. But barely. You owe me now. 😏

Film giggles softly at the teasing text, her cheeks warming. She hesitates before replying.

Film: I do? What do you want as repayment?

Namtan: Hmm... this is a once in a lifetime chance so I guess I'll have to think about it real hard. Gotta make it count 😏

They continued texting—talking about random things, about the festival food they shared, childhood stories, even reminiscing about how to they got jailed together or even silly complaints about professors. 

Time slipped away, neither realizing how late it had gotten.

Film: Oh wow, it's almost 1 AM. I didn't even notice.

Namtan: Me neither. But I don't mind. You're fun to talk to.

Film: You too. ☺️

They both stared at their screens, smiling like fools.

Namtan: Sleep soon, okay? I'll text you tomorrow. Sweet dreams, Nong'Film.

Film: Good night, P'Namtan. Sweet dreams too.

Film set her phone down, still holding it to her chest as she turned off the lights, her mind replaying every text, every teasing word.

Meanwhile, Namtan stared at her screen, grinning before finally shutting her eyes.

They both fell asleep with their hearts a little fuller than before.

--

Love sighs, stretching her arms above her head before slumping back into her chair. 

The glow of her laptop screen illuminates her face as she carefully uploads her audition pictures, double-checking the requirements before hitting submit.

Juggling schoolwork and modeling wasn't easy, but she made it work. It helped that she actually enjoyed both—though right now, her brain was fried from hours of studying. She needed a break.

Reaching for her phone, she taps on the radio app, letting the background chatter fill her room as she absentmindedly scrolls through social media.

"Alright, if you're out there, listening while pretending to study—yes, I'm talking to you—put the highlighter down and take a snack break. You deserve it. But don't blame me if you fail, okay?"

Love pauses mid-scroll, then bursts into laughter.

The DJ's voice is playful, teasing, full of energy that instantly lifts her mood. She leans her elbow on her desk, grinning.

"Anyway! Here's a song to help you romanticize whatever you're doing right now—whether it's finishing an assignment last minute, staring at your crush's Instagram. Go ahead and imagine yourself in a music video, I know we're all guilty of this"

Love shakes her head, amused. 

Who is this DJ? 

She's hilarious.

Something about her voice—so warm, so effortlessly entertaining—makes Love feel like she's talking to a friend. If they ever met in real life, she's sure they'd get along.

Little does she know, she already has.

- 🐥See you on the next chapter 🐼-

Throwing in a little Milklove in here as a side couple bec I feel extra ghei today lol :)

Chapter Text

🎵

The librarian purposely coughs and gives a stern look at a group of students huddled together on a nearby table.

“Tsk. We should have picked a different spot; it’s suffocating out here” Mark complains.

“Right. Which idiot decided to sit here anyway?” Nanon asks in which Mark purses his lips towards Namtan. They both turn to her, but were surprised to see Namtan nonchalantly skimming through the pages of a book with a little smile on her face.

Their class was tasked to do a research activity at the library today. The three of them were waiting for Milk so they can start their group project.

“So, what’s with the dumb smile?” Nanon squinted at her, suspicion dripping from his tone. “Did you win the lottery or something?” he said in a hushed tone and then looking back to check if the librarian is still onto them.

Namtan ignores him, closes the book and starts tapping her fingers gently on the table. Seemingly impatient.

Mark chimed in, nudging her arm. “Or did someone confess their undying love for you overnight?”

Namtan scoffed, stuffing her hands into her pockets to hide the way her fingers itched to check her phone. “You two are so dramatic.”

“Ohhh, so there is something.” Nanon gasped. “Who is it? Do we know this guy?”

Idiots. It’s not a guy.

Mark crossed his arms, pretending to think. “I swear, you’ve been acting weird since the founding anniversary. Are you in love or something?”

Namtan rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t stop the small smirk from forming. As she was about to retort a witty comeback at Mark, a familiar figure suddenly walks past an aisle of shelves several feet ahead of them.

Namtan’s heart skipped a beat.

She was sure who that is.

After a few weeks of texting back and forth, Namtan had grown fonder of her especially after finding out that although Film is timid in person, she’s actually a little less shy and is more open in expressing her thoughts through messaging. Namtan thoroughly enjoys their little texting escapades where they can freely talk about anything under the sun not noticing the track of time.

They’ve grown closer since then.

“I’ll be right back” she tells the duo and closes her book.

The library was hushed, filled with the soft rustling of pages and the occasional quiet footsteps. Film, standing by one of the shelves, skimmed through the spines of books, her fingers tracing the titles.

“Design principles, design principles…” she mutters to herself.

“Looking for something, Nong?”

Film stiffened.

That voice—that voice—was way too close.

She turned her head slightly, already knowing who it was.

Namtan leaned lazily against the bookshelf just a step behind her, a knowing smirk playing on her lips. Her posture was relaxed, but there was a certain mischief dancing in her eyes that made Film immediately wary.

“Phi…” Film whispered, glancing around. “What are you doing here?”

“What? Can’t I be here?” Namtan tilted her head, pretending to scan the books. “I love a good…what section is this again?”

“Medical and scientific media creation” Film mumbled, hugging the book in her hands closer to her chest.

Namtan hummed. “Right. Totally what I came for.”

“Phi, are you…following me?”

“Following?” Namtan echoed in mock offense. “I was already here. You came into my section.” she flashes a knowing smile at Film.

Film bites her lip, trying to hold back a chuckle while shaking her head.

They’ve come into the teasing phase.

Film huffed, about to walk away, but Namtan’s voice stopped her in her tracks.

“Oh, by the way…” Namtan tapped her chin, pretending to recall something. “Didn’t you call me something that goes like—”

She was referring to a nickname that Film gave her after that bus ride which was "Phi'Hero"

Film whipped around so fast that her book nearly slipped from her hands. Her panicked expression was exactly what Namtan wanted.

“Shhh!!” Film pleaded; her eyes wide. “Don’t say it out loud!!”

Namtan looks at Film’s intent grip on her arm and grinned. “What? I was just gonna say—”

Film grabbed the nearest book and playfully shoved it against Namtan’s stomach.

“Phi, Stop.”

Namtan bit her lip, trying to hold back a laugh as she accepted the book, but instead of backing off, she took a step closer. Film instinctively stepped back, only to feel the bookshelf press against her.

“Your wish is my command” Namtan whispers. Film could feel the older girl’s breath near her now reddening ears. Namtan leaned in slightly—just enough to let nose gently poke at Film’s whisker dimple.

Film squeaked.

“Quiet in the library please” the librarian reminded over the PA system.

Her hands flew up to cover her mouth, mortified.

Namtan grinned victoriously.

Satisfied with her teasing, she took a step back and turned as if she was about to leave.

Then, over her shoulder, she murmured low enough just for Film to hear:

“Talk later? "

It wasn’t a question. It was a promise.

Film watched as Namtan casually slipped away between the shelves like she hadn’t just turned her entire world upside down.

Her heart thudded loudly against her ribs.

She barely noticed she was gripping the book in her hands too tightly.

“Talk later.”

She’s actually looking forward to it.

---

Unbeknownst to the two girls, a pair of eyes were watching them from an opposite aisle. Observing Namtan’s discreet little smiles, Film’s flustered reactions, and their secret glances—it was pure entertainment.

I should start charging for matchmaking services. She sends Namtan a text with a snapshot of her and Film’s silhouettes, snickering to herself.

With a smug grin, she took a sip of her taro milktea and strolls back to their table, humming to herself. Enjoying watching this slow burn unfold.

“Reminder to students – no food and drinks allowed in the library” rang the PA system.

Milk was too immersed in being her best friend’s silent supporter that she forgot to get rid of her drink before entering the premises. Panic sets in within her as she frantically searches for a trash bin. But just as she makes her way towards one, somebody collides onto her, spilling the drink on herself.

“Oh my! Kho Tohd, Kho Tohd, I’m so sorry” says the girl.

Milk didn’t even know what to say, it all happened so fast.

“I’m so sorry, these books blocked out my view and I didn’t see you walking in front of me” the girl explained.

“No, it’s okay, partly my fault, I was in a hurry” Milk surmised, setting her spilled drink aside and helping the girl pick up some of the books that fell on the floor. “Here, your books” she turns to the girl and couldn’t help but blink twice.

How pretty, is she a model?

Small in stature and petite in frame.

Long, slightly wavy, rust-colored hair cascading just above her waist.

The girl fumbles with something from her pocket and brings out a pastel-colored handkerchief which she hands over to Milk, her boba eyes full of remorse.

“I’m really sorry” she says with a slight pout and then walks away, carrying the stack of books.

Milk is left there, dumbfounded by what just happened but also brimming with curiosity. She looks at the handkerchief she was now holding, it had a tiny embroidered red heart the bottom corner and a set of initials – L.P.

Who is she? 

- 🐥See you on the next chapter 🐼-

Chapter Text

🎵

Film practically scurried back to her desk, her heart hammering wildly in her chest. She could still feel the ghost of Namtan’s touch where she had nuzzled her nose along her whisker dimple.

As she was making her way back to their little corner, Nanon caught a glimpse of her and wondered if she was a first year. He craned his neck until Film disappeared from his sight.

Hmm. Never seen her around before. He thought.

Love plopped a stack of books on the table and huffed from all the heavy carrying as she sat across Film. She looks at her friend and was about to ask her something when she noticed that Film looked somewhat bewildered.

“What happened to you?”

Film shook her head way too fast and immediately flipped open a book to a random page, pretending to be deeply invested in… whatever it was she just landed on.

“Nothing,” she muttered, avoiding all eye contact.

Love squinted, clearly not buying it. “You look like you just saw a ghost.”

I wish.

A ghost would be less dangerous than Phi’Namtan.

Film tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, trying to compose herself but her fingers betrayed her, trembling ever so slightly.

Goodness. Get it together.

She took a deep breath, flipping another page as if that would fix whatever mess Namtan just left in her brain. Unfortunately, her hand was still shaking.

Love caught it immediately.

“Okaaay, who did what?” Love leaned in; eyes gleaming with curiosity. “You’re acting weird.”

“I’m not,” Film denied too quickly, her voice just a tiny bit too high-pitched.

Love raised an eyebrow. “Film Rachanun, look me in the eye right now”

Love was about to press further, but then—

A presence.

A very familiar presence walking past their table.

Film felt it.

She didn't need to look up to know who it was. She refused to.

Because if she did, she knew exactly what she would see—Namtan, all smug and insufferable, throwing her one of those teasing looks.

Nope. Nope, nope, nope.

Film ducked her head lower, pretending to be absorbed in reading whatever it is on that page but the printed words were all nothing but jargon inside her head. Unfortunately for her, she needed to look busy.

Namtan’s steps slowed ever so slightly as she passed by—Film could feel it.

The weight of her gaze. The teasing heat behind it.

“You’re holding the book upside down…” chirps Namtan.

And just before she disappeared past their table, Film swore she heard the softest little chuckle.

UGHHHHHHHH!!!

Film bit the inside of her cheek and wished for the ground to open up and swallow her whole.

Tsk. That was soooo humiliating. She scolds herself.

Love gave them a polite nod as they passed by and accidentally locked eyes with Milk, their gaze was innocent, curious even but lingered a little too long than normal. She noticed Milk clutching the handkerchief she gave; her uniform was still stained from the spill but looked drier than it was a few moments ago.

An unexpected smile forms on her lips, somehow feeling redeemed from their clumsy mishap earlier. However, the moment they were gone, she snapped back to her senses and recalls Namtan surprisingly talking to Film.

Puzzled by it, she leans in closer to her friend and starts questioning her.

“That was a strange interaction. Do you and Phi’Namtan know each other?”

Film let out a slow, painfully controlled exhale “…Yes.”

Love’s jaw dropped. “That’s Phi’Namtan, a campus personality, and we’re…we’re regular nerds. How did that happen?”

“It’s a long story…” Film blurts out, defeated as she sinks lower into her chair. 

- 🐥See you on the next chapter 🐼-

Chapter Text

🎵

Film steps out of the bathroom, a towel draped around her neck as she rubs at her damp hair. Droplets of water still cling to her skin, catching the warm glow of the bedside lamp. For some reason, her shower routine was a lot quicker than normal tonight.

It’s as if she’s anxiously waiting for something, a boiling anticipation that’s been building all day inside her.

She snatches her phone off the nightstand, fingers almost slipping from the moisture still on them. The screen lights up as she unlocks it in one swift motion.

No new messages.

A small frown forms on her face.

She swipes down to refresh. Still nothing.

She said ‘Talk later’.

Did she forget?

No, she wouldn’t. She’s been just as consistent as her. Their little routine, exchanging messages before bed, sometimes playful, sometimes deep, had become something she looked forward to more than she wanted to admit.

She flops onto her bed, gripping the phone tightly.

Maybe she’s just busy. Or maybe—

Ding!

The sound almost sent her into a coma. A notification.

Is it from her? Is it from her? she talks to herself while fumbling with her phone.

Y-E-S!

She reads the message. A slow pout that turned into a smile spread across her face. Namtan was teasing her again. Nevertheless, she finds it amusing and without hesitation, she types back and just like that, their texting continued like an unspoken routine.

Adding a little sass on her reply, she pressed send.

Her stomach flipping in anticipation of her reply.

Just wait until I’m no longer shy, Phi.

She promises silently, a playful smile etched on her lips.

Namtan has been home for several hours already but was pacing around her room, thinking of what to say to Film. She was naturally spontaneous and could quickly start a conversation effortlessly, but she wonders why she’s left dumbfounded at times when it comes to this certain girl.

“Tsk. What to say” she mutters.

“Oh! I got it” She grins over her quick epiphany as her thumbs get to work.

Namtan: Hi 😊 How’s the girl who was reading a book upside down doing?

She exhales loudly, smiling mischievously at herself before tossing the phone back onto the bed with a soft thud. She then ties her hair up and grabs her toner for her nightly skin care routine while turning on the radio just in time for Milk’s show.

Ding!

Her head snaps toward the bed so fast. The poor bottle of toner now discarded and dripping its content on the table as Namtan disappeared in a millisecond, lunging for the phone in absolute flurry, practically diving onto the mattress as she fumbles to grab it.

Film: She would be doing fine if it weren’t for someone teasing her right now 🤔

Namtan sneered. Fingers hovering over the keyboard, she takes a second to breathe—play it cool, Namtan—before typing back.

Namtan: That was fast. Have you been waiting for me to message? 😏

Film’s eyes widen the moment Namtan’s message pops up on her screen.

Her jaw drops slightly, caught off guard by her sudden boldness. She blinks once, then twice, before a slow, playful smirk stretches across her lips.

“Playing like that tonight, huh?” she murmurs to himself, biting her bottom lip with a glint of amusement in her eyes.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the screen, Namtan is wiping down the mess from the spilled toner earlier. Her knees bounce as she beams at her own message. She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, waiting.

Maybe she went too far?

Maybe Film is scrambling for a response?

Film: And if I say yes? 😏

Namtan’s stomach flips and she pretends to clutch her chest as if having a heart attack before plopping backwards on her bed.

She dares to play along with my skills???? I underestimated you Film. Namtan mutters to herself, her eyes narrowing as she types a response.

Namtan: Wow. You’re a fast learner for trying to keep up with me. What were you up to anyway?  ☺️

Film glances down at her damp towel draped over the chair.

Film: Just got out of the shower.

Namtan: Ooooh, fresh and clean~ 👀 What soap scent do you use?

Film smirks, leaning back against her pillows.

Film: That’s weirdly random. Why? Gonna imagine it? 😏

Namtan scoffs, rolling her eyes playfully.

Namtan: Pfft, just curious!

Film: Stay curious, Phi. Maybe you’ll find out someday LOL. Hmm actually now that we’re talking, I was surprised to know I was wrong about you. I thought you were the floral-scented perfume type of person.

Namtan: Trying to sniff me on the bus ride back then I see?

Film: Phi!!! Excuse me, the bus was packed.

Namtan: Lolen, lolen. So, what do I smell like then?

Film: You smell like babi powder.

Namtan: Ba-what? Babi?

Film: NO—baby powder!! 😭 It was a typo!

Namtan: Too late, babi. 😏 Now you have to say it out loud.

Film groans, already regretting everything.

Film: No way.

Namtan: Yes way. 😌 Voice clip. Now.

Film: Never happening.

Namtan: Fine, I’ll just keep calling you Babi forever then. 🥰

Film glares at her screen, but a smile is already tugging at her lips. How could she resist Namtan when she’s being so cute.

Film:  Phi, you are so stubborn!

Namtan: Takes one to know one 😏

Film huffs, but finally, after a deep breath, she hits record.

The moment the voice clip lands in her chat, Namtan’s eyes widen in excitement. She hesitates for just a second, then presses play.

“…Babi.”

Film’s voice is soft but laced with the tiniest bit of embarrassment, and that’s all it takes for Namtan to lose it.

She lets out an involuntary squeal, immediately rolling onto her bed, clutching her phone to her chest. Her legs kick wildly in the air as she writhes from sheer excitement. “OH MY GOD, THAT WAS SO CUTE,” she exclaims to no one but herself.

She quickly turns onto her stomach, typing in a frenzy.

Namtan: I’M SCREAMING— STOPPP THAT WAS ADORABLE. 😭😭 I need to hear it again.

She shamelessly replays the clip, giggling into her pillow.

Film: I regret everything. 😑

Namtan: No take-backs, Babi. 😌 This is your name now.

Film sighs dramatically on the other side, but Namtan knows she’s probably smiling.

Film: You’re enjoying this way too much.

Namtan: I AM AND I WILL CONTINUE TO DO SO 🤭

She kicks her feet again, feeling a ridiculous amount of joy over something so small.

Who knew a typo could make her this giddy?

-

Film groans loudly, rolling onto her side and burying her burning face into a pillow.

Why did I actually do it?!

Her phone vibrates again. Another message from Namtan.

Namtan: I AM AND I WILL CONTINUE TO DO SO 🤭

Film peeks out from her pillow, lips pressing together in a pout. She knows Namtan is probably spazzing on the other side of the screen, absolutely thriving on this. And the worst part? Film doesn’t have a clapback which makes her a total simp right now.

Film’s face is still warm.

She doesn’t do this kind of thing. She’s never entertained anyone’s teasing like this before. If it were someone else, she would’ve just ignored it, changed the topic, or at worst, left them on read.

But… Namtan isn’t just anybody. The realization makes her blush even harder.

Film: You’re having too much fun with this, Phi… 😑

Namtan: Aww, Babi’s shy? ☺️

Film lets out a small, embarrassed laugh, shaking her head.

Film: Only sometimes… 🙈

She bids Namtan a good night shortly after, avoiding Namtan’s incessant teasing.

Film: Good night, Phi’Namtan.

The reply is immediate.

Namtan: Good night, Babi.

Film sighs, hugging her pillow tighter. 

- 🐥See you on the next chapter 🐼-

PS: Have y'all seen day 1 of a Princess Tale Fanmeet? Namtan was dead serious when she said she's gonna ask for Film's hand in marriage in the fanmeet, her parents really did bring the dowry basket today. I'm going crazyyyyyyyyyy 🤪🤪🤪

Chapter Text

🎵

The blaring sound of the fire alarm echoed through the halls of the university, sending a wave of murmurs and hurried footsteps across the campus. Professors and students alike began filing out of their classrooms as per protocol.

Film adjusts the strap of her bag, moving with the sea of students spilling out into the open courtyard. She spots Love and her usual group a few feet ahead but loses sight of them as the crowd shifts.

Annoyed, she sighs and slows her pace, deciding to wait until things settle.

Namtan and her friends – Mark, Nanon & Milk abruptly cease their script reading rehearsal for a stageplay project when the bell rang. They had no choice but to quickly pack their things and followed the crowd outside.

The campus grounds were flooded with students, making it nearly impossible to stay in groups. In the chaos, Namtan lost sight of her friends but then, out of the corner of her eye—Film.

Caught in the push and pull of the throng of students, Namtan found herself standing right beside her.

Seriously?

She smiled to herself, couldn’t believe fate is on her side again today.

Film blinks twice the moment she noticed who was beside her, she looks down in disbelief, a little chuckle escaping her lips. It had been quite a while since they saw each other face to face, it has always been thru texting.

“Didn’t think I’d see you here, babi” she murmurs, glancing at Film with a small, amused smile.

Film smirks and shakes her head upon hearing her new official nickname. “You make it sound like I planned this.”

Namtan nudges Film’s arm lightly with her elbow. “Did you?”

Film shot her a confident smirk “If I did, I wouldn’t tell you.”

For a moment, neither of them says anything. Around them, the courtyard is filled with murmurs, laughter, and the occasional complaints about the sudden fire drill.

Then, Namtan stretches her arms behind her head, glancing up at the sky. “Kinda nice though,” she muses. “Getting a little break in the middle of the day.”

Film hums in agreement. “Yeah. Unexpected, but… not bad.”

She sneaks a glance at Namtan, who catches her in the act. Their eyes meet, and for a second, there’s nothing but quiet amusement between them.

The crowd around them is restless, students shifting and murmuring as they wait for the all-clear. Film is barely paying attention, her thoughts occupied by the warmth of the sun, the unexpected break, and the fact that she and Namtan had somehow ended up side by side.

Then—she feels it.

A light, fleeting touch against her fingers.

Film barely has time to register the sensation before Namtan’s hand gently slips into hers, fingers lacing together in a quiet, deliberate motion.

Her breath catches.

Hidden in plain sight, their hands clasp together amidst the crowd—undetected, unnoticed, but undeniably real.

Film’s initial surprise stills her for a moment. She flickers a glance at Namtan, who remains impossibly calm, her gaze fixed somewhere ahead as if nothing had happened. But the slight curl at the corner of her lips, the way her grip tightens just the faintest bit, tells a different story.

Slowly, hesitantly, Film relaxes.

She shifts her thumb slightly, brushing it over Namtan’s skin in the gentlest of motions—a silent response, a quiet acknowledgment.

Namtan’s grip doesn’t waver. If anything, she holds on a little tighter.

Film is washed over by a feeling of dejavu and admits to herself that she missed being around Namtan like this, with their hands clasped together, just like that night in front of the noodle shop.

And amidst the noise, the scattered voices, and the chaos of the fire drill, they exist in their own secret moment—hidden, but felt.

After several minutes which unfortunately felt like seconds for the both of them, the fire drill is finally cleared, and students begin dispersing back into their buildings. The crowd moves as one, a sea of bodies pushing in different directions.

Film feels Namtan let go of her hand and internally protests, she wanted to hold hands for a bit longer. The crowd shuffles, threatening the space between her and Namtan to grow wider. But just as they were about to absolutely lose track of each other, Film feels a hand land gently on the small of her back.

Her breath hitches as Namtan towers over her even closer and her hand on Film’s lower back.

Namtan guides her effortlessly, a subtle but steady touch as they weave through the crowd together. It’s not forceful, not rushed—just there, like a quiet reassurance that they won’t lose each other in the shuffle.

Along the way, Mark standing on his toes, spots Namtan and waves at her exaggeratedly to catch her attention “Don’t forget. Practice later at the auditorium, after class!!!” Namtan flashes him an okay sign.

The two of them continue their way back to the university hallway. When they finally reach a clearing near the entrance, Namtan lets her hand linger for just a second longer before stepping back, stuffing her hands casually into her pockets.

Film turns to her. “Well, I guess I’ll see you around Phi,” she says with a small smile.

With a playful pout, Namtan declines. “Mmm… no.”

Film blinks. “No?”

Namtan pretends to think. “I don’t like ‘see you around’, it’s too…vague.”

Film raises an amused eyebrow. “What’s wrong with it?”

“See you around could mean, next week or next month, can it be… any sooner than that?”

Film huffs a small laugh, shaking her head. “You’re so—”

Goodness. She’s being too cute.

Film is fighting the urge to pinch Namtan’s cheeks seeing her say that with a tiny pout on her face and her pleading puppy-eyes.

She stops herself, sighing in fond defeat. “Fine. See you soon, Phi.”

Namtan beams, clearly satisfied. “That’s more like it.”

With one last lingering glance, she takes a step back before turning on her heel, walking away with an extra happy skip in every step.

Film watches her go, a tiny smile still tugging at her lips.

Yes, I want to be with you soon too

Her thoughts are still lingering on their moment, the warmth of their exchanged glances, the way Namtan had insisted on see you soon instead of see you around.

Lost in her own world, she doesn’t notice the figure in front of her until—

Thud.

She bumps straight into someone, stumbling back slightly.

“Oh, sorry!” the guy says quickly, steadying himself before flashing her an easy smile. “Didn’t see you there.”

Film blinks, regaining her balance. “Ah, no—it’s my fault. I wasn’t looking.”

The guy tilts his head, studying her for a second and grins upon remembering who she was. “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Nanon.”

Film nods politely, offering a small, reserved smile. “Nice to meet you.”

She doesn’t say her name. Doesn’t ask anything back. Instead, she steps slightly to the side, a quiet but clear signal that she’s ready to leave.

Nanon watches as she takes a step forward. “Hey, are you—”

But Film is already walking away, offering only a brief, “Sorry again,” over her shoulder before disappearing into the crowd.

Nanon furrows his brows, watching her retreating figure with mild curiosity.

Later that afternoon, Film wanders into the auditorium, keeping to the shadows as she watches Namtan on stage.

She remembered Namtan’s friend reminding her of their practice and curiosity had led her here. But now, watching her under the dim rehearsal lights—fully immersed in her role, her voice steady and expressive—Film feels her existing admiration for Namtan growing even further.

She doesn’t stay long, just enough to see Namtan laugh with her castmates between takes. As she turns to leave, something on the bulletin board near the door catches her eye.

A flyer.

Stageplay Mural Painting: Volunteers Needed

Without hesitating, she takes a pen from her bag and writes her name down.

Why? She’s not sure. Maybe she just wants something to do.

But who is she kidding? This is definitely a chance to be around Namtan more. She heads home with the idea of Namtan walking past the mural someday and seeing a piece of Film in it.

- 🐥See you on the next chapter 🐼-

Chapter Text

🎵

Namtan paces across her bedroom, arms crossed, brows furrowed in deep thought. Every few seconds, she glances at her phone on the bed. Half-expecting, half-hoping for a message from Film.

Nothing.

With a groan, she flops onto the mattress, staring at the ceiling.

This is stupid. This is so, so stupid.

But she misses her.

More than she wants to admit.

The way Film’s fingers brushed against hers during the fire drill, the quiet thrill of holding her hand in secret—it replays in her mind like a song stuck on loop. She wants to feel that warmth again, that silent, unspoken connection.

Before she can sink further into her thoughts, Milk enters the room, tossing her bag onto the floor.

“I need your steam account to buy a game” she plops down on Namtan’s gaming chair and logs in using Namtan’s laptop, knowing the username and password by heart.

“Uhh, excuse me? What happened to Hi? or Hello?” Namtan playfully asks but lets Milk do whatever she wants. They’re practically sisters.

“This soldier has a mission to do, the discount promo ends in 30 minutes.” Milk chatters, sparing Namtan a quick glance.

“Anyway, why do you look like you’re debating solving world peace?” Milk continues, unimpressed.

Namtan props herself up on her elbows. “Hypothetically,” she starts, “what would you do if you missed someone too much?”

Milk raises an eyebrow. “You mean Film?”

Namtan immediately scoffs, but it comes out weaker than she’d like. “Like people in general?”

Milk gives her a knowing look. “Right. So, you’re just… casually suffering because you miss “people in general” so much?”

Namtan groans, grabbing a pillow and smacking her face with it. “Forget I asked.”

Milk laughs, typing away on the keyboard. “Okay, okay. Here’s what I’d do.”

“I’d stop overthinking and just go see them.” Milk leans in to the monitor dramatically, the laptop’s illuminated screen reflecting in her eyes. She smiles sheepishly, clicking the checkout button.

Namtan peeks out from behind the pillow. “Just like that?”

Milk shrugs. “Yeah. If you miss someone, you don’t sit around sulking, you do something about it.”

Namtan mulls that over, chewing on her lip.

Moments later, she’s grabbing Milk’s scooter keys.

“Where are you going?” Milk calls after her.

Namtan doesn’t look back. “Convenience store run.”

Milk snorts. “Oh yeah? Is this convenience store around Film’s neighborhood too?”

Namtan shuts the door behind her, ignoring the teasing—but the small, knowing smile on her lips says it all.

What was she even planning to do? Casually pass by and hope for a chance encounter? Maybe make up some ridiculous excuse like, Oh wow, I didn’t realize I was in your neighborhood, what a small world!

She exhales sharply, running a hand through her hair. She could just turn around, go home, and save herself the embarrassment. Film would never even know she was here.

But then she remembers the fire drill. The way their hands found each other in the chaos, fingers lacing together, hidden but undeniably real. The way Film’s thumb purposely brushed her thumb softly over her skin.

I want to hold her hand again

Namtan tightens her grip on the scooter. Screw it.

Before she can overthink it any further, she twists the throttle and speeds off down the road, heart hammering in anticipation.

If she was already being reckless by coming here, she might as well see it through.

Meanwhile Film steps out of her dorm house, tying up the trash bag with practiced ease. Dusk was approaching, the air is cool, tinged with the faint scent of rain that never quite fell. She hums absentmindedly as she walks toward the bin by the gate, about to toss the bag when…

Wait a second.

Her movements slow as she notices an unfamiliar thing parked a few meters away. A very eye-catching mustard yellow scooter.

She narrows her eyes, scanning the dimly lit street as sunset is just around the corner.

And then she sees it.

A figure, very poorly hidden behind a lamp post.

Film stares.

The lamp post does not completely cover the whole figure. Whoever it is, they’re clearly failing at whatever stealth mission they think they’re on. Although, she somewhat recognizes that posture. The person is covering their face with hair as if using it as a beard.

A slow, knowing smile creeps onto her lips.

“Phi’Namtan?”

A pause. Silence.

“...Nope. Don’t know her.” the figure says.

Film bites back a laugh as Namtan stays rigid behind the post, as if refusing to acknowledge her own existence will somehow work.

With an amused shake of her head, Film crosses her arms. “So, you just happened to be hiding behind a post… on my street?”

Namtan peeks out, sheepish but still trying to play it cool. “What a small world, huh?”

Film huffs a laugh, stepping closer. “What are you doing here?”

Namtan finally gives up on her failed hiding attempt, stepping out with an easy grin. “I was uhh…trying to look for a drink...” She scratches her cheek, looking almost shy. Film looks at her expectantly, urging her to continue.

“A drink…that is not…AVAILABLE… at the convenience store near me” Namtan says out loud, emphasis on the word available (as an excuse). She says it as if she were a toddler learning how to read his first words.

“By the way, you hungry?”

Film shakes her head, smile still etched on her lips. “You’re impossible.”

But then, she tosses the trash bag into the bin, dusts off her hands, and gives Namtan a small smile. “Lucky for you… I am hungry.”

Namtan’s eyes light up.

“So, what kind of DRINK were you looking for?” Film teases.

The fluorescent glow of the convenience store washes over them as they step inside, the cool air conditioning a welcome contrast to the warm night outside. Rows of neatly arranged snacks and colorful drinks fill the shelves, the soft hum of a K-pop song playing in the background.

Film walks ahead, her steps light and confident. She doesn’t need to check where everything is, she already knows. Instead, she sneaks a glance over her shoulder, watching as Namtan trails behind her, feigning interest in random snack labels.

“Alright,” Film says, stopping near the refrigerated drinks. She gestures toward the variety of colorful bottles inside. “Which one was it?”

Namtan blinks. “Huh?”

“The drink you said you were craving so much that you had to take a scooter ride all the way here,” Film teases, crossing her arms. “Go on, pick.”

Namtan hesitates, eyes darting between the endless options. Of course, she hadn’t actually planned this far—she just needed an excuse to see Film. Now, under Film’s expectant gaze, she suddenly feels like a student caught in a pop quiz she didn’t study for.

She squints at the drinks, hoping for divine intervention. There are fruit teas, milk sodas, vitamin waters… nothing is sparking an epiphany.

Film raises an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you forgot what you came all this way for?”

Namtan scoffs, trying to play it cool. “Obviously not.”

Then, without looking, she reaches into the fridge and grabs the first drink she touches. She pulls it out with a confident grip only to freeze when she sees what she picked.

Film leans in to check…

“What the--,” she wheezes, barely containing her laughter.

In Namtan’s hand is a tiny pink kids’ yogurt drink, complete with a cartoon cat mascot and strawberry sparkle written in bright, bubbly letters.

Film doubles over, laughing. “Out of all the drinks, you chose that?”

Namtan stares at the bottle in betrayal. “Listen. This was, this was a tactical error.”

Film wipes a tear from the corner of her eye, still grinning. “So this was the life-changing drink you rode all the way here for?”

Namtan groans but ultimately just sighs, shaking her head. “You know what? Fine.” She unscrews the cap and takes an exaggerated sip, maintaining eye contact with Film.

Film snickers. “How is it?”

Namtan smacks her lips thoughtfully. “Tastes like childhood regrets.”

Film bursts into laughter again, shaking her head as she grabs a drink of her own.

“Well, at least now I know you weren’t actually here for the drink.” and then smirks.

Namtan pauses mid-sip, her grip on the tiny bottle tightening.

Busted. 

- 🐥See you on the next chapter 🐼-

Chapter Text

🎵

With their drinks in hand, Namtan still begrudgingly holding onto her unfortunate strawberry yogurt choice. Film strolls toward the heated food section, scanning the pre-packed meals. Namtan looks at her, and for a moment, under the soft convenience store lights, Film’s smile feels like the only thing in focus.

Maybe coming here wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

"I'm grabbing a rice bowl," she says, bending slightly to inspect the options. "You?"

Namtan, still recovering from the existential crisis that was her drink selection, glances at the shelves and grabs the first thing that catches her eye which was a katsu sando.

"This works," she says, pretending like she put actual thought into it.

Film hums in approval, still occupied with choosing her meal. Seeing this as her chance, Namtan finally gives in to what she's been dying to do: get rid of the cursed drink.

She lifts it to her lips and takes another sip, trying to give it one last chance.

Immediate regret.

Her whole face scrunches up as the artificial strawberry flavor coats her tongue. It’s too sweet, too milky, and whatever weird sparkle aftertaste it has is just wrong.

Suppressing a gag, she sticks her tongue out slightly and grimaces then hurriedly wipes her mouth with the back of her hand.

How do kids drink this willingly?!

What she doesn’t realize, however, is that Film has already caught everything, watching her through the reflection in the glass fridge door.

Film bites her lip, shoulders shaking as she tries not to laugh outright.

A second later, she turns around, schooling her expression into an innocent one.

"You good?" she asks, arching a brow.

Namtan straightens immediately, clearing her throat. "Yeah. Totally fine." She gestures to the sandwich. "Excited for this, actually."

Film smirks, leaning against the fridge. "And the drink?"

Namtan hesitates for a beat. "A… unique experience," she finally says, nodding in fake seriousness.

Film lets out a soft laugh. "Uh-huh. Good thing you picked exactly what you came here for."

Namtan glares playfully. "You're never letting this go, are you?"

Film grins, grabbing her rice bowl. "Oh no, this one's staying with me forever. This is my first laugh of the day, Phi"

Namtan’s heart swells as she notices the stark contrast in Film’s behavior. Just a few nights ago, in that small makeshift jail booth, she was the girl who wouldn’t utter a sound nor show the slightest hint of emotion. And yet, here she is now, easygoing, carefree, and laughing for the first time today. Namtan thinks to herself.

She sees the way Film's eyes twinkle with amusement and thinks that maybe making a fool of herself isn’t so bad. Not if it makes Film laugh like that.

They sit side by side on top of a yellow concrete parking block outside, their convenience store meals balanced on their laps. The low hum of passing traffic, buzzing neon sign of the store and the chirping of night-time insects surround them as dusk settles. The asphalt still holds a bit of the day's warmth, but the breeze is cool against their skin.

Namtan takes a bite of her sandwich, watching Film out of the corner of her eye. She likes this, how Film isn’t the type to fuss over fancy dinner spots or perfect table settings. No complaints, no hesitations. Just sitting here, in the most random spot, eating convenience store food like it’s the best meal in the world.

I could be anywhere with her, and it’d still feel like the right place.

Film, on the other hand, sneaks glances at Namtan between bites of her rice bowl. The weight of the moment is settling into her chest, warm and comforting. It’s not the food nor the location, it’s the fact that Namtan came here for her. That she rode all this way, under no pretense, just to see her.

Neither of them says much as they eat, but it isn’t awkward, it’s easy, natural. The kind of quiet that doesn’t need filling. As they finish up, Namtan stretches, letting out a satisfied sigh before lazily sipping the last of her questionable strawberry yogurt drink. She grimaces slightly, making Film chuckle again.

"I'm starting to feel bad for you," Film muses, handing over her bottled water. Namtan takes it without hesitation, gulping it down like she’s been stranded in a desert, completely unaware of the way Film watches her, eyes filled with quiet adoration.

Then, without thinking, Film shifts closer.

Just a little.

Then a little more.

Until, finally, she rests her head against Namtan’s shoulder, exhaling softly.

Namtan stills, her grip tightening around the bottle for a moment. But then, a faint smile forms on her lips as she relaxes into it, tilting her head just slightly to rest against Film’s.

The sky in front of them is painted in deep orange and soft pinks, the sunset casting a golden glow over their faces. The world feels quieter, the moment stretching between them like a secret shared only by the two of them.

Film closes her eyes for a second, listening to the faint sounds of traffic in the distance, the rustling of leaves, the steady rhythm of Namtan’s breathing.

Namtan exhales softly, glancing down at the weight resting against her and then slowly, carefully, she slips her hand into Film’s palm, lacing them together. She had come all this way on a whim, driven by something she wasn’t ready to name. But deep down, she knew this was what she wanted.

The last remnants of sunlight stretch across the sky, fading from warm orange to dusky pink. The air is still, the world around them quiet except for the distant hum of cars passing by.

Film, still leaning into Namtan’s shoulder, gives their intertwined hands a gentle squeeze. She swallows, gathering the courage bubbling inside her.

“Phi…” she murmurs.

Namtan tilts her head slightly. “Hmm?”

Film hesitates for only a second before speaking, her voice soft but sure.

“Thanks for this,” she says. “For coming all the way here” She exhales, feeling uncharacteristically shy. “For wanting to be with me.”

Namtan blinks, caught off guard by the sincerity in Film’s voice. She turns her head slightly, enough to meet Film’s gaze. “Of course,” she says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I wanted to.”

Film smiles, her heart swelling at the response.

“I see it, you know.”

Namtan tilts her head. “See what?”

“The effort,” Film admits, voice barely above a whisper. “You didn’t have to come all this way, but you did.” She glances over the horizon, watching the sunset. “I just… I want you to know I see it.”

Namtan blinks again, warmth creeping up her neck. She hadn’t expected to be thanked, not when all she did was follow what her heart wanted.

She opens her mouth to say something, but before she can—

Soft lips press against her cheek.

It was just for a few seconds, but it sent a quiet shock through her entire body.

Film pulls away, her face burning. Namtan stays frozen for a moment, processing. Then, ever so slowly, a grin spreads across her face.

“I think you might’ve just started something dangerous.”

Film raises an eyebrow. “Oh?”

Namtan leans in just a little, closing the space between them. “Mmm,” she hums, her voice lower, softer. “Because now I really want to kiss you back.”

Namtan inches closer, her gaze flickering from Film’s eyes to her lips, the space between them growing smaller. Film’s breath catches, her heart doing a full somersault. She swears she stops breathing for a moment.

Then, as if the universe itself wants to sabotage the moment, a car honks loudly from the street, making them both jolt in surprise and snap their heads toward the direction of the sound.

Film leans away, covering her face as she laughs, shoulders shaking. Namtan sighs exasperatedly, mentally cursing the driver.

“Guess the universe has other plans.” says Film.

Namtan smirks, tilting her head. “Oh, don’t worry. I’m patient.” Her fingers, still interlaced with Film’s, give a playful squeeze. “Next time, I won’t let a car horn stop me.” Namtan says while staring at her intently.

Film tries to maintain the eye contact but couldn’t bear the yearning in Namtan’s eyes and looks away shyly, hiding the way her heart stumbles at ‘next time’.

- 🐥See you on the next chapter 🐼-

P.S. Honestly one of my fave chapters, got me blushing while writing this 😭😭😭

Chapter Text

🎵

Namtan rides her scooter through Bangkok’s streets, the hum of the engine barely registering over the whirlwind in her mind. Her lips are pressed together, trying and failing to contain the giddy smile threatening to split her face.

She stops at a red light, tapping her fingers against the handlebar. The city sounds fade into the background as her thoughts replay that moment.

The way Film leaned in. The soft press of lips against her cheek. The warmth that lingered even now. Without thinking, Namtan lifts a hand and lightly touches the spot where Film kissed her.

A sharp inhale and her heart flips and before she can stop herself, she lets out a high-pitched squeal and kicks her feet up in pure delight.

Unfortunately, she is still on her scooter.

The movement nearly topples her, and she grips the handlebars for dear life just as—

HOOOONK!

The light has turned green. The car behind her is not as enchanted by her moment of gay panic as she is.

"Sh*t!" Namtan yelps, fumbling with the throttle. In her rush, she accidentally accelerates too hard, making her scooter jerk forward like a startled rabbit.

She wobbles, barely regaining control, and speeds off, face burning as she silently prays that no one saw any of that. However, the driver definitely did. And so did a pedestrian, who is now texting someone about "some girl losing her mind at a red light."

What’s up with all these car horns today ruining my day, Seriously! She thought.

Meanwhile, Film stands at the sink in the dorm’s common kitchen, sleeves rolled up, hands submerged in warm, soapy water. She had brought home some leftovers from her bento box since she wasn’t able to finish everything after that kiss.

But if you asked her what she was actually doing…well.

She has no idea since her mind is stuck in a vivid, completely involuntary daydream.

She imagines the way Namtan would lean in, slow and teasing, the way her breath would tickle Film’s lips before closing the distance—

"Next time, I won’t let a car horn stop me."

Film lets out an absolutely pathetic sigh, swaying slightly as if she’s some tragic protagonist in a romance drama. Eyes staring into the horizon that is unfortunately, just their kitchen window while she tries her best to suppress a bashful smile.

She doesn't even notice what she’s doing.

“Uh… Film?”

A voice snaps her out of it, and she blinks, suddenly aware of her dorm mate standing next to her, staring at her with deep concern.

“Hmm?” Film asks, confused.

Her dorm mate gestures to her hands. “Are you… okay?”

Film frowns and looks down.

She is holding a fork and using it to aggressively scrub a cutting board instead of a sponge. Worse, the actual sponge is sitting inside a pot, which she has filled with water like it’s being prepared for soup.

Silence.

Film stares.

Her dorm mate stares.

A single soap bubble floats between them and pops.

“…Oh,” Film says weakly.

Her dorm mate folds their arms. “Are you sick or something?”

There’s a slight pause before she bursts out in a nervous, awkward laugh. “Oh! Haha, No! Totally not! Just, uh… You know, a little sleep-deprived, your typical college student, Haha.”

Her dorm mate just stares at her, raising an eyebrow.

"Right..."

Film quickly tosses the fork in the sink and snatches the sponge, nearly spilling the water everywhere. "Yep! So, um, yeah. I'm good. Just… yeah. Thanks for checking, though!"

The dorm mate looks at her for another beat, expression unsure, but then just shrugs and gives her a small, hesitant smile. "Okay, sure. Take care, I guess."

As her dorm mate walks away, Film exhales a shaky breath. She mutters to herself, sinking back into her thoughts.

"...Maybe I am sick. Lovesick..." she snickers softly, covering her face with her free hand.

--

The following day, the college bell rings, signaling the end of the lecture. Film packs up her notebook, stuffing it into her bag with a bit more force than necessary, her mind already elsewhere.

Her heart skips a beat as she approaches the area. The volunteer space is already alive with people. Some are splashing bold, vibrant colors onto the wall while others are chatting or taking turns setting up the painting materials.

As the professor gestures toward the group of mural painting volunteers, Film steps forward with the others, paintbrushes and palettes in hand. The scent of acrylic and fresh canvas fills the auditorium as they set up near the massive backdrop.

Namtan, standing in the center of the stage with her castmates, tilts her head in curiosity at the newcomers, only for her breath to hitch slightly when her eyes land on Film.

Film, on the other hand, pretends to focus on the outline she’s meant to fill in, but her gaze keeps drifting back to the stage.

To her.

Namtan moves with an effortless grace, flipping through her script, conversing animatedly with her co-stars, her expressions shifting between serious concentration and playful banter. She radiates a certain kind of warmth, one that seems to pull Film in without even trying.

Then, during a scene run-through, Namtan steps under the stage lights, and Film is momentarily stunned.

The way the lights hit her face, casting a soft glow against her skin. The way her eyes shine. Lively and passionate as she delivers her lines with raw emotion. 

She belongs there.

Film lets out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding.

She dips her brush into the paint, trying to shake off the fluttering in her chest. Focus, she tells herself. You’re here to paint, not to—

“Hi, can I borrow a brush?”

Film jolts, nearly smudging the canvas as Nanon, another volunteer, enters into view.

“What?” Film blinks.

“A brush please?” he said, beaming. Film, with her usual quiet demeanor, hands Nanon a brush without much thought.

Nanon leans on the edge of the mural stand, twirling the borrowed paintbrush between his fingers. “So, Nong’Film, right? You’re pretty good at this,” he says, nodding toward the half-painted backdrop.

Film, still focused on her strokes, hums in acknowledgment. “Thanks.”

He grins. “Didn’t expect to see you here. Thought you’d be more of a library type.”, recalling the first time he saw her.

Film flicks her gaze to him briefly before dipping her brush into the paint. “I like painting.”

Nanon chuckles. “Yeah? That’s cool. I mean, I can barely draw stick figures, so props to you.”

Film offers a small polite smile but doesn’t add anything. Instead, she subtly shifts her attention back to the stage, her brush slowing as she watches Namtan move under the lights. The way she commands attention with every line, every gesture, it’s mesmerizing.

Nanon follows her gaze. “You know Namtan?” he asks, curiosity lacing his tone.

Film blinks, caught off guard. “Huh?”

Nanon smirks. “You keep looking at her.”

Film stiffens for half a second before schooling her expression. “She’s the lead,” she says simply, as if that explains everything.

Nanon chuckles again. “Right. Of course”

He doesn’t press further, but Namtan, watching from the stage, starts to question as to why her friend suddenly dawdles around Film.

During the break, Namtan stretches her arms over her head, rolling her shoulders before casually making her way toward Film. She had no real reason, just wanted to chit-chat, maybe tease her a little, or just to have her near.

But just as she opens her mouth to speak, another voice beats her to it.

“Hey, you two,” Nanon calls out, stepping in beside Film with an easy grin. “Let’s go grab a drink at the canteen. My treat.”

He winks at Namtan, a silent nudge for her to play along, clearly enlisting her help in charming Film.

Namtan quirks a brow, confused, but before she can even react, Film shakes her head.

“Sorry Phi, I already bought some, but it’s limited, only 2 bottles”. Film replies smoothly, holding up a plastic bag.

Both Nanon and Namtan pause.

Namtan glances at Film, who’s looking directly at her, as if waiting for her to take it.

For some reason, her chest feels warm. She reaches out, taking the bottle from Film’s hand, their fingers brushing lightly.

“Thank you,” Namtan murmurs.

Film just hums. “Let’s sit somewhere,” she suggests.

Before leaving, Namtan tossed a glance at Nanon, whose face twists into something unreadable.

As they were on their way, a voice calls out.

“Phi’Namtan! There you are!” Both Namtan and Film turn to see a co-actress, Pear, approaching with an easy smile, her long hair swaying with every step.

“I was looking for you,” Pear continues, resting a hand lightly on Namtan’s shoulder. “I need help with the script delivery in sequence eight of scene number four, would you mind practicing with me?”

Namtan, seemingly unaware, hesitates before turning toward Film. “Would you mind—?”

Film glances at Namtan, then at Pear, and shrugs casually. “Go ahead. I’ll wait outside,” she says. Her tone is relaxed, but there’s a flicker of something unreadable in her eyes.

Namtan gives her an appreciative smile. “I won’t take long.”

With that, Film walks out, heading toward the quieter part of the building, just outside the rehearsal hall near an open-air staircase. It’s shaded, a bit secluded, with a nice view of the campus below. She scrolls through her phone absentmindedly, occasionally glancing toward the door, expecting Namtan to come out soon.

But minutes pass. Then more.

Inside, Namtan starts explaining a few things to Pear, but before she can wrap up, another co-actress, Aom, one of her closest juniors, excitedly calls out to her. “Phi!!! I followed what you told me about my audition tape and it went through! I’m lined up for final casting for a TV commercial!”

Aom is a cute, petite girl that Namtan treats like a little sister. She’s been trying to enter show business, marketing her cute looks for TV commercial castings and Namtan has been diligently coaching her on developing her self-confidence on camera.

Before she knows it, Namtan is pulled into a tight bear hug. Out of joy for her junior, she hugs back just a little, a congratulatory hug if you may and pats her head, Aom’s arms are still wrapped around Namtan’s waist.

“See, I told you, you can do it” says Namtan. She looks at Aom proudly, Pear then proceeds to hug Aom as well and their chit-chat goes on.

At the back of her mind though, she wants to leave. Really, she does, but the timing never feels right. Every time she thinks she can slip away, someone else pulls her back in with another joke, another question, another story.

Outside, Film shifts on her feet, checking the time.

Ten minutes. Fifteen.

Her jaw tenses as she glances back toward the door.

Still no sign of Namtan.

Her fingers tighten around her phone, debating whether to check on the older girl, she tells herself it’s not a big deal but later on, curiosity got the best of her. She steps quietly toward the auditorium; she pushes the door open just enough to see inside.

And there she is.

Namtan.

In someone else’s arms.

Aom has her wrapped in a tight hug while Namtan pats her head as they laugh at something. Namtan doesn’t pull away. In fact, her own arms come up to return the embrace. The others around them are chatting, but all Film sees is that.

Her grip tightens on the doorknob.

The sight catches her off guard, a sudden ache settling in her chest before she can push it down.

Maybe I was stupid for waiting.

She lets out a quiet breath, stepping back before anyone can notice her.

Her thoughts spiral as she walks away.

I guess Namtan is just kind to everyone, including me.

She’s warm, open… maybe too open.

Maybe I just imagined it—every glance, every brush of her fingers against mine.

A bitter chuckle escapes her lips.

She thought, no, she hoped that maybe she was special. That maybe the way Namtan looked at her, the way she always seemed to seek her out, meant something.

But looking at her now, in someone else’s arms, it hits her.

I’m probably just another person in her life.

And that realization stings more than she wants to admit.

Film swallows the lump in her throat, forcing her legs to keep moving. The laughter and chatter from inside the rehearsal room fade behind her, but the image of Namtan in someone else’s arms stays burned in her mind.

Without a second thought, she rips the plastic bag open, pulling out the untouched bottles, she shakes her head while looking at the electrolyte drink she specifically got, worried that Namtan might overexert herself during practices. 

Her fingers tighten around it for a split second and then, with a sharp exhale, she throws the bottles into the empty trash bin near the entrance.

The dull clunk echoes in the quiet hallway.

She bites her lip, hard.

The sting distracts her from the warmth building behind her eyes, from the way her chest feels tight and heavy.

Stupid. I was so stupid.

She should’ve known. Should’ve never let herself believe, even for a second, that she was someone different to Namtan.

With a shaky breath, she turns on her heel and walks away, blinking rapidly to keep the tears from spilling. 

She refuses to cry over something that was never hers to begin with.

- 🐥See you on the next chapter 🐼-

Chapter Text

🎵

As Film walks briskly through the hall, her mind still clouded with frustration and hurt, she doesn’t even realize she’s walking toward the outdoor vending machines near the courtyard.

 She just wants to be somewhere else, anywhere but inside that rehearsal room where Namtan is.

She turns to the nearest corner and leans back against the wall, sighing. Not that she even wants a drink, she just needs an excuse to stand still for a moment, to gather herself but the rush of thoughts came flooding in.

The sight shouldn’t have hurt. Namtan had always been like this, warm, affectionate, effortlessly charming.

But it did.

And suddenly, Film felt stupid.

She clenched her fists, nails pressing into her palms as embarrassment crept up her spine. She had convinced herself that Namtan’s gestures meant something more. But maybe that was just who Namtan was. Maybe Film had read into things that were never there.

She wanted to laugh at herself, but the lump in her throat made it impossible.

Was I just another person in her orbit? Someone she liked having around, but nothing more.

Suddenly, she hears a voice drifting from around the corner. A low, familiar hum at first, then soft singing, unpolished but warm, carrying an easy rhythm and then a distinct thunk of a bottle dropping into the tray catches her attention.

She turns her head, slightly looking over the where the noise came from and there, crouching in front of the vending machine next to hers, is Nanon.

He doesn’t seem to have noticed her yet, too focused on struggling to get his drink out of the tray. He sticks his hand in, grumbling under his breath when it doesn’t budge.

"Seriously? I paid for this, you piece of junk"

Film watches as he shakes the machine lightly before trying again. When the bottle still doesn’t come out, he groans dramatically and presses his forehead against the glass, sighing in defeat.

That’s when he finally notices her.

"Nong’Film?" His voice is slightly muffled against the vending machine before he quickly straightens up, blinking.

--

Back at the auditorium, Namtan finally manages to slip away from the huddle, her laughter fading the moment she steps out of the circle. She checks her watch. and her stomach drops.

Over 30 minutes.

Film is nowhere in sight.

Her chest tightens as she pushes open the door and glances around the hallway but an unsettling silence greets her. Her palms are suddenly damp.

She checks inside the auditorium again, maybe Film got tired and decided to sit somewhere in the back row.

Nothing. She’s gone.

Namtan bites her lip and then her fingers; unconsciously moving to her nails as she anxiously chews at them. Her eyes dart across every corner, every shadowed hallway, searching for any sign of Film.

Nothing.

Her heartbeat quickens.

She wouldn’t just leave without saying anything… right?

She paces at the auditorium entrance when something catches her eye.

Two unopened drink bottles on a pile of discarded wrappers and paper cups in a trash bin.

Namtan stops in her tracks.

She recognizes them immediately.

Her throat tightens.

Oh shit.

A heavy weight settles in her stomach as realization crashes into her.

Film didn’t just leave—she left angry.

And worse, she didn’t even wait to talk about it. A lump forms in Namtan’s throat as she takes a step closer, staring at the drinks as if they hold the answers she’s suddenly desperate for.

She swallows hard.

She has to find her.

Now.

Namtan’s heart pounded in her chest as she sprinted down the hallways.

“Film! Film, where are you?” she calls out.

Her voice echoed off the walls, mingling with the sound of her rapid footsteps. She’s only managed to give a slight bow to the other students who ask her if she’s feeling alright.

With every corner she turned, panic surged higher. Running a hand through her hair in a futile attempt to gather herself, worry and regret are starting to eat her from the inside.

I should’ve left earlier, I should’ve excused myself during the first 10 minutes. I let it drag too long she thought, scolding herself internally.

The corridors felt endless, and as the minutes stretched on with no sign of Film, despair began to seep in. Finally, unable to bear the relentless worry, Namtan slumped over the cool, metal railings lining the corridor.

But even in her moment of defeat, her eyes caught a glimmer of movement. Down in the courtyard, two floors below, the familiar shape of a vending machine came into view. And beside it, two people stood quietly, their conversation and easy laughter a stark contrast to the turmoil inside her.

Namtan’s heart twisted as she recognized them.

Film, there you are.

...Nanon too?

Namtan’s fingers tightened around the railing as she stared down at the two figures near the vending machine. Even from two floors up, she could recognize them instantly.

Film was leaning back against the vending machine, her posture relaxed in a way that made Namtan’s chest ache. Nanon was beside her, casually sipping from a drink, nudging Film’s arm every so often as if trying to pull a reaction from her.

There was a softness to the way Film stood there, to the way she let herself just be next to Nanon.

Something bitter curled in Namtan’s chest.

She had spent the last thirty minutes searching in a frenzy, panicking at the thought of Film leaving, Film being angry at her, Film not wanting to see her, only to find her here.

Perfectly fine.

Talking to someone else and letting him be the one to share drinks with when they had already agreed about it earlier.

Was she not the first person Film turned to anymore?

She stepped back from the railing, suddenly feeling unsteady. Her mind screamed at her to go down there, to interrupt, to fix this, but a small, ugly part of her whispered:

What if she doesn’t need you right now?

Her hands clenched into fists.

- 🐥See you on the next chapter 🐼-

Chapter Text

🎵

Film stared at the ceiling, her fingers hovering over her phone before she sighed and set it down again. She had nothing to say. Or rather, she had too much to say, but none of it felt right.

She had waited earlier. She had hoped Namtan would come after her, that she would notice, that she would care enough to reach out first. But the hours passed, and nothing came.

Maybe that was her answer.

On the other side of the neighborhood, Namtan lay curled up in bed, clutching her phone to her chest. Her heart ached with the weight of unsent messages, of words forming and deleting over and over again.

Namtan: Are you okay? (deleted)

Namtan: I’m sorry I took too long… (deleted)

Namtan: Can we talk? (deleted)

She wanted to reach out. But the memory of Film at the vending machine, looking so at ease with Nanon, made her hesitate. Maybe Film didn’t want to hear from her. Maybe she had already decided where Namtan stood in her life now.

And so, the night stretched on.

Both of them, waiting and hurting.

Neither of them willing to make the first move.

Sleep was restless and shallow, filled with flashes of the day, of words unspoken, of something fragile slipping between their fingers.

The following morning at campus, the air between them was heavy.

Namtan saw Film across the campus courtyard, she stood with her arms crossed, nodding absently as Nanon chatted beside her. They’re hanging out, again.

A dull ache settled in Namtan’s chest.

She had barely slept; had spent the entire night clutching her phone, staring at a blank screen, waiting for something or anything. But no message ever came. And she hadn’t sent one either.

Taking a breath, Namtan squared her shoulders and made her way toward them. But the moment Film’s eyes flicked up and landed on hers, Namtan noticed a shift in her expression.

Guarded, unreadable.

For a second, they just looked at each other.

Nanon’s gaze darted between them before he cleared his throat and stood up, he casually patted Namtan’s shoulder and left the two of them alone which made Namtan wonder.

What was that? Was he trying to say something indirectly?

Now, it was just them.

Namtan forced a smile. “Hey.”

Film nodded, her voice quieter than usual. “Hey.”

The silence stretched.

It was agonizing.

Namtan hated this. The distance, the awkwardness, the way Film wasn’t meeting her eyes properly. Just the other day, they had been fine. Laughing. Sitting close. Sharing drinks. But now? It felt like a chasm had opened between them overnight.

Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore.

“Film,” she started, voice barely above a whisper, “are we… okay?”

Film’s jaw tightened. She exhaled through her nose, glancing away before answering.

“I don’t know Phi, are we?” she admitted.

Namtan’s fingers twitched at her sides. “I’m sorry I made you wait the other day”

Film finally looked at her then, and the weight of that gaze nearly knocked the breath out of her.

She smiled, a bitter one.

“It’s fine,” she murmured. “You’re just being you, caught up in your own world. I’m the one who wasn’t used to it. Maybe I should’ve known better than to step outside my comfort zone.”

Film didn’t wait for a response. She simply turned and walked away, leaving Namtan standing there, frozen. Namtan felt her chest tighten as she watched Film’s retreating figure, her words replaying over and over in her mind.

You’re just being you, caught up in your own world.

I should’ve known better.

She thought she understood what Film meant but she doesn’t want to believe it, because if she did, then that would mean admitting that she had hurt Film in a way she didn’t even realize.

That would mean acknowledging that maybe… she was losing her.

Her fingers curled into fists, but no amount of squeezing could stop the ache creeping into her chest and she swore for a second, she could hear her heart crack. Desperate for answers in this confusing mess, she could only think of one person to connect the missing puzzle pieces.

Namtan quietly approached him, watching Nanon pin up the last few posters for their upcoming stage play. The bright yellow paper stood out against the dull bulletin board, catching the attention of passing students. He was focused, humming a tune under his breath, completely unaware of her presence.

She sighed and sat down on one of the benches across the hallway, tapping her fingers against the wooden seat. They hadn’t properly hung out in a while; both of them caught up in rehearsals, studies, and, in her case, this blossoming thing she has with Film.

When Nanon finally turned around, wiping his hands on his jeans, he spotted her.

He knows why she’s here.

"Hey, stranger," he greeted, walking over. "It’s been a while”

Namtan managed a small smile. "Yeah, well, been busy."

“So…tell me, what’s going on?” Namtan asks, wasting no time.

Nanon tilted his head, reading her expression for a beat before leaning back against the bench.

“What did you say to Film? Yesterday. At the vending machine.”

Realization flickered in his eyes, but he didn’t immediately answer. Instead, he studied her face, reading the frustration, the hurt, the desperation barely hidden beneath her glare.

Nanon exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t say anything bad, if that’s what you’re thinking,” he said carefully. “She was already upset when I found her.”

Namtan’s throat tightened. “Upset about what?”

He hesitated, then sighed. “I don’t think it’s my place to say.”

That wasn’t good enough.

“Nanon, please. I need to know.”

He looked at her for a long moment before shaking his head with a soft chuckle, though there was no humor in it. “You really don’t get it, do you?”

Her stomach dropped. “Get what?”

Nanon leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“She wasn’t mad at you.” He tilted his head, watching her carefully. “She was hurt.”

Namtan gulped, she felt a short but sharp pang in her heart.

Nanon sighed. “I don’t know the whole story, but I do know this, it wasn’t that she waited for you for so long, Pear and Aom, she saw you with them and may have realized that she wasn’t your priority, turns out she may just be an ordinary person, just a friend to you while she felt otherwise…” He trailed off, shrugging. “So…she left.”

The words hit harder than she expected.

Namtan swallowed past the lump in her throat, trying to keep her voice steady.

“That’s not true. I—” She faltered.

Because deep down, she knew.

She knew.

She had taken too long. She had assumed Film would wait. She had assumed she always would and it didn’t occur to her that being romantically involved with someone comes with the responsibility to adjust to other people with regards to physical boundaries.

Nanon stood, dusting off his jeans. “Look, if you want to fix this, don’t waste your time questioning me. Go talk to her.”

Then, with one last knowing glance, he walked back to working on the bulletin board, leaving Namtan dumfounded; feeling just as lost as when Film had left her behind.

“…Do you like Film?” Namtan asks, she’s been wanting to ask her friend since noticing his attempts of trying to get close to Film during rehearsals.

Nanon let out a dry chuckle, shaking his head as he stuffed his hands into his pockets, his back turned to Namtan. “You know what’s funny?”

He exhaled, glancing up at the bulletin board for a minute. “That day at the vending machine… I confessed to Film.”

Namtan felt like the air had been knocked out of her lungs. “You what????”

“I told her I liked her.” His voice was casual, like he was just recounting a random event, but the weight of his words settled heavy between them. “Figured, why not? The moment felt right.”

Namtan’s stomach twisted. The idea of Nanon liking Film—her Film. It left a strange, uncomfortable feeling in her chest.

“I guess I owe you an apology for being dense, if I should’ve known there was something between you in the first place, I never would’ve dared”

Namtan’s gaze dropped to her knees, all these information is overwhelming her. She swallowed. “And… what did she say?”

Nanon scoffed, running a hand through his hair. “She didn’t even let me get my hopes up.” He turned to her with a small, almost amused smile, though his eyes held something deeper. “She told me right away that she likes someone else.”

Namtan’s breath hitched. “Oh.”

“She didn’t even hesitate,” Nanon continued, watching her closely now. “Just looked me dead in the eye and said, Sorry, Nanon. My heart’s already with someone else.”

His next words sent a shiver down her spine.

“She said it’s with you.”

Namtan froze.

Her lips parted, but no words came out.

Nanon let out another chuckle, but this time, it sounded almost bitter. “You were all she talked about that day. She was recounting all that happened since day one, she would laugh and chuckle in between the stories and then she’d turn melancholic towards the end. So, yeah. She loves you. She still does.”

Silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating.

Namtan felt her pulse roaring in her ears, her mind scrambling to process everything at once.

And Namtan had made her feel like she wasn’t important? Like she was just another person in her life?

The thought made her chest ache.

And with that, he gave her a final tap on the shoulder, turned and walked away, leaving Namtan there, heart pounding, hands trembling, as realization crashed into her all at once.

- 🐥See you on the next chapter 🐼-

Chapter Text

🎵

Namtan walked with her head down, her steps aimless despite knowing exactly where she was headed. The city lights blurred together, a hazy backdrop to the storm inside her.

How could I have been so blind?

Her mind replayed Nanon’s words over and over, each one cutting deeper than the last.

"She said it’s with you."

"She loves you. She still does."

Film had been waiting. All this time, she had been waiting. And Namtan, careless and clueless had made her feel like she wasn’t important.

Her throat tightened, shame pressing down on her chest. She had always been someone who clung to others, always had people around her, always laughed, always loved freely, so much so that she never noticed when she was holding someone too loosely.

She bit her lip, trying to hold back the sob bubbling in her chest.

I was so stupid.

Her vision blurred.

I was so stupid.

She barely realized she had arrived until she saw the glowing sign of the radio station. The cool air inside hit her like a shock, but it wasn’t enough to pull her out of the suffocating weight of regret.

Through the large glass panel of the DJ booth, Milk was mid-sentence, wearing her usual playful smirk as she spoke into the mic. But then, her eyes flickered up.

She saw Namtan.

Her smirk vanished.

She finished her radio spiel with haste “time check it’s 7:47pm brought to you by Muvmuv food delivery app, for the next hour we will be playing your song requests so stay tuned…” she pressed a button, cutting to a radio commercial. She pulled off her headset, stood up, and made her way to the door.

By the time she reached Namtan, the dam had already broken.

Milk cupped her cheeks, her thumbs brushing against tear-streaked skin, her voice soft but firm.

“Namtan, what happened?! Are you hurt?” she inspects her best friend, head to foot.

Namtan choked on a sob, shaking her head as fresh tears spilled over.

“I was so stupid,” she whispered, voice trembling, breaking, before she collapsed into Milk’s arms.

Milk didn’t ask questions. She just held her. Tight, steady, solid. Namtan sobbed into her shoulder, letting herself fall apart. Milk gently ran a hand down her back, grounding her.

Namtan sat slumped on the worn-out couch inside the radio station’s break room, her face still damp, her body drained from crying. Milk sat beside her, quietly listening as Namtan spilled everything. The vending machine, Nanon’s words, Film’s feelings, and the unbearable weight of realizing just how badly she had messed up.

Milk didn’t interrupt. She just let Namtan talk.

When Namtan finally fell silent, staring at the floor, her fingers twisting the hem of her shirt, Milk sighed.

“You really were an idiot,” she said, voice soft, teasing but warm.

Namtan let out a short, humorless laugh. “I know.”

Milk nudged her shoulder. “But you weren’t cruel, Namtan. Just…a little bit oblivious.”

Namtan swallowed, her fingers tightening around the fabric of her shirt. “And what if that’s worse?”

Milk clicked her tongue, reaching out to flick Namtan’s forehead lightly. “Then fix it, dumbass.”

Namtan winced, rubbing the spot where Milk had flicked her. “How?”

Milk tilted her head, thinking. “Well… talking to her would be a good start.”

Namtan let out a slow, shuddering breath. “I don’t know if I can do that yet. Not without screwing it up more.”

Milk studied her for a moment, then leaned back against the couch. “Then don’t use words. Use something else.”

And just like that, an idea sparked in Namtan’s mind.

She turned to Milk, eyes still red but suddenly filled with purpose. “Milk… can I request a song?”

Milk raised an eyebrow. “Obviously, yes? That’s kind of my whole job.”

“No, I mean. A dedication. I will do it myself, on-air.”

Milk blinked. Then, understanding dawned on her face.

“Oh.” A slow smirk curled her lips. “You wanna confess through the radio, huh?”

Namtan groaned, burying her face in her hands. “Yes. I need her to know, even if that means letting the whole listening audience of Bangkok know as well, I want to reassure her there’s no one else”

Milk hummed, leaning forward, elbows resting on her knees. “Goodness, this is the cheesiest thing I’ve encountered but alright. I’ll make it happen. You got a song in mind?”

Namtan hesitated for a moment before nodding. She told Milk the song, and her friend whistled. “Damn. You’re really going for the heart, huh?”

Namtan let out a shaky exhale. “I just hope she listens.”

Milk grinned, giving her a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “Oh, she will. And if she doesn’t, I’ll personally make sure she hears it.”

For the first time that night, Namtan felt a small, fragile sense of hope.

**

Meanwhile Film sat on her balcony, her fingers absentmindedly strumming the guitar resting on her lap. The night air was cool against her skin, but the ache in her chest kept her warm in the worst way. She sang quietly, letting the words of a familiar heartbreak song escape into the empty night.

She wasn’t sure how long she’d been out there, lost in her thoughts, until her phone buzzed beside her. She sighed, glancing at the screen.

Her breath hitched.

"Namtan: 101.79 Radio. 10pm. Please listen."

What is she onto this time? She thought.

Film stared at the text with hesitation. But against her better judgment, her fingers hovering over the phone screen, she finally let out a frustrated sigh and pressed play on the radio. She needed to know, even if it hurt. 

The soft hum of the station filled the room and then she heard Milk’s voice crackling through the air.

"Good evening, everyone! You’re listening to 101.79 Radio, and tonight we have something a little different for you. It’s not every day we get to share a surprise with our listeners... and especially not with one of our very special guests sitting right here in the booth with me."

Film’s heart skipped a beat. Her mind raced. Special guest? Her stomach churned with nerves.

"And, before we dive in," Milk continued, "I just want to say a big thanks to Namtan for squeezing into my show tonight. She's got something she really wants to share with someone very special, so… take it away, Namtan."

Film leaned forward, suddenly glued to the sound, her breath shallow.

There was a pause. Then, Namtan’s voice. Soft, hesitant, but determined broke through the static.

“Hi, Film. I… I don’t really know where to start, but I need you to know I’m so sorry for not seeing things sooner…”

Film’s hand trembled as it rested on the guitar strings, her heart thumping against her chest.

“I want you to hear this, and let it convey what my heart wants you to know. Please, listen closely.”

Film closed her eyes, the guitar now discarded as she clasps her phone with both hands as if her life depended on it. The minus-one instrumental version of Keshi's "Soft Spot" began to play.

 The familiar melody sent a shiver down her spine, and for a moment, she felt as if the whole world had paused. Then, just as the words began to flow, her breath caught in her throat.

Namtan’s voice. The same voice she had missed, that she had longed to hear again, filled the room.

Don't like anybody, tell me why it's different with you
Don't believe in love but no one makes me feel like you do
I don't say it much 'cause I just always thought that you knew, oh

It's what you do to me
I'm wrapped around your finger and it can't stop
You know I got a soft spot for you
You know I got a soft spot for you

Film’s chest tightened as the lyrics wrapped around her heart. She hadn’t expected this. The rawness of the confession, the sincerity behind the words. It was as if Namtan’s heart was speaking directly to hers.

Too late, don't wanna fall, baby
I just don't need somebody else to throw me aside
But I'm up all night
Thinking 'bout how it could be you to change my heart, but I

Don't like anybody, tell me why it's different with you
Don't believe in love but no one makes me feel like you do
I don't say it much 'cause I just always thought that you knew, oh

It's what you do to me
I'm wrapped around your finger and it can't stop
You know I got a soft spot for you
You know I got a soft spot for you

She felt her own tears beginning to well up, her mind racing to catch up with the emotions tumbling out of her. Namtan was singing, pouring everything she had into this song and all Film could do was listen, overwhelmed by the vulnerability in the gesture.

Namtan’s voice grew steadier as the song continued, each note carrying the weight of her regret, her longing, and her hope. It was the closest thing to a love letter Film could imagine, even if it was broadcast to the entire world.

When the song finally faded, Film sat there sobbing, the lingering echo of Namtan’s voice still ringing in her ears. The message had been clear. The song was a confession, a plea, an apology wrapped in the sincerity that only Namtan could offer.

One thing was definitely certain: Namtan wasn’t giving up.

At first, there was a sharpness in Film’s chest. She could feel the weight of being exposed, as if her most private, fragile emotions had been broadcast to the entire city.

But then, something inside her softened.

Namtan had gone all in, hadn't she?

She didn’t just apologize with words. She didn’t just confess with a text or a voicemail. No, she’d sung it, on-air, for everyone to hear. And in that moment, Film realized that this was more than just a gesture. It was a promise, a reassurance, and a vulnerability that demanded to be felt.

She was willing to risk everything for me to hear this.

The realization hit Film with full force. Namtan had made herself vulnerable in a way that Film could understand now. Namtan was offering something more than just an apology. She was offering a piece of her heart, and she had placed it out there for everyone to hear. There was no hiding it. No pretending.

For the first time, Film felt like she wasn’t alone, that her feelings hadn’t been one-sided after all.

And just like that, the weight in her chest lightened. They were on the same page.

- 🐥See you on the next chapter 🐼-

Chapter Text

🎵

Her fingers trembled as she dialed the number she knew by heart, the rhythm of the ring in her ear matching the unsteady beats of her chest. Each second felt like it stretched into eternity until the line finally clicked.

“Hello?”

Namtan’s voice on the other end was warm and familiar, but there was a tension to it now, a quiet waiting, as though she, too, was unsure what to expect next.

Film paused, biting her lip. She had so many questions, so many things she wanted to say, but she needed to hear one thing, first.

“Phi, do you really mean it?” she asked softly, the weight of the question more than just curiosity. It was a plea, an opening for the truth, for Namtan to confirm everything that had just been laid bare over the airwaves.

The silence on the other end felt endless. Film held her breath, the space between the question and the answer stretching as she waited, her heart in her throat. Then, Namtan spoke, her voice quieter now, but unmistakably sincere.

“I mean it, Film. Every single word.”

Film’s chest tightened, a rush of emotion she wasn’t prepared for flooding through her. She had always doubted that Namtan could feel the same way. But now, Namtan’s words hung in the air like a lifeline, offering her something she’d been afraid to hope for.

There was a pause before Namtan continued, a small sigh escaping her lips. “I’m not asking for instant forgiveness. But I’m asking for a chance. A chance to show you, to prove to you that I’m serious. That I’m here, not just in the good times, but in all of it. I want us to try. If you’ll let me.”

Film felt her heart swell at the sincerity in Namtan’s voice. It wasn’t perfect, and it wasn’t easy, but Namtan wasn’t asking for it to be. She was simply asking for a chance.

She closed her eyes, a smile tugging at her lips despite herself. “One step at a time, Phi,” she said, her voice steady now. “But I’m willing to try, too.”

The relief in Namtan’s laugh was audible, and for the first time in a long while, Film felt her heart open up to the possibility of what could be. They had a long road ahead of them.

Later that night, Film lay in bed with her phone pressed to her ear, the soft hum of wind chimes in the background. Namtan was still on the line, their call stretching past midnight like old times. The heaviness from earlier had eased into something lighter, easier.

“I still can’t believe you actually sang it,” Film said softly, her voice full of wonder, like the thought was still settling in.

Namtan groaned on the other end. “Ugh, don’t remind me.”

Film was giggling so hard she could barely catch her breath. “You were brave. And emotional. And... honestly, a little bit pitchy on the second verse.”

Namtan let out a dramatic gasp. “I knew I cracked a note! I felt it happen and I just powered through like a wounded cat.”

“But it was… heartfelt,” Film replied, her voice warm, her words gently wrapped in a smile. “Phi, did you know my hands were sweaty and trembling the whole time I was listening, and I felt like my heart rate was off the roof”

“You were nervous?” Namtan asked, sounding surprised and a little soft now.

“Terrified,” Film confessed. “I thought maybe I imagined everything between us. But then you sang, and suddenly it was like, everything made sense. Like I wasn’t crazy after all.”

“You were never crazy,” Namtan said gently. “Just patient. And way too good for me.”

Film gave a quiet laugh. “Don’t say that. I was just scared.”

“Well, I was too” Namtan said with a small huff, “I was the one sobbing into a studio microphone like a broken karaoke machine.”

Film giggled. “Just with a slightly wobbly high note.”

“Oh my gosh,” Namtan whined, but her laughter bubbled up anyway. “I’m never singing again.”

“You are,” Film said sweetly. “But I have to be the first to hear it. Not the whole city.”

Namtan’s cheeks flustered, “I wanted to make sure you had to listen”

There was a beat of quiet, the kind that felt full of smiles you could hear even without seeing.

“Well,” Film said, her voice glowing with something bright and fluttery, “I’m listening now. To all of it.”

Namtan was quiet for a second. Then, with a soft, flustered kind of laugh, she said, “You’re gonna make me cry again.”

“Please don’t,” Film said. “Your poor eyes have been through enough today.”

“Kiss them then,” Namtan mumbled, biting her cheeks from the inside. “My poor eyes deserve  it; they’ve cried a puddle of feelings today.”

“You’re my puddle of feelings,” Film said without even thinking.

And the silence that followed was soft, golden, breathless.

“…Did you just call me yours?” Namtan whispered, teasing but touched.

Film’s voice dipped shyly. “Maybe.”

“Well,” Namtan said, grinning into the phone, “this puddle of feelings can’t wait to see you tomorrow”

“…and get those kisses”

Film felt her cheeks warm, her voice barely above a whisper now. “You’ll get them,” she murmured. “Tomorrow. One for each tear you shed... maybe more, if you ask nicely.”

Namtan let out the softest laugh, the kind that made Film’s chest flutter. “That’s a dangerous promise.”

“I’m feeling brave tonight,” Film said, her smile audible. “Must be the effect of a certain late-night singer serenading me.”

“Oh, I’ve never seen this side of you before, I like it, maybe I could inspire more things out of you?” Namtan teased.

Film hummed, sleepy and happy. “Mm-hmm. And maybe a little bit of butterflies, too.”

A quiet settled over them again. The comfortable kind, where neither needed to speak to feel the closeness.

Then Namtan’s voice came through, tender and low. “Good night… babi.”

“Good night, babi.”

“Dream of me, okay?”

Film smiled, her eyes slipping closed. “Only if you dream of me back.”

“I have been, many nights before” Namtan confesses, eyes closing, lips curled into a smile.

And with that, the call faded to silence but the warmth stayed, lingering in their hearts like a lullaby.

The next morning, Film wasn’t expecting much. A text, maybe. A sticker on LINE. A sleepy “good morning” at most. But when she turned the corner toward her usual bus stop, her steps slowed.

There, waiting with two steaming cups of coffee in her hands and a hopeful little smile on her face, was Namtan.

Film blinked. “Phi?”

“I figured I’d catch you before the day tried to,” Namtan said, holding out one of the cups. “You said you like it with two sugars, right?”

Film took it, still a little stunned, the warmth of the cup soaking into her fingers. “You remembered.”

“Of course I did.” Namtan’s voice was soft, steady. “I remember a lot of things about you.”

For a moment, they just stood there, holding her coffee, heart quietly racing, and Namtan looking at her like she was exactly where she wanted to be.

“You didn’t have to wait for me,” Film said, though her smile betrayed how much she liked that she did.

“I know,” Namtan said, and there was no hesitation in her voice. “But I wanted to.”

They walked together toward campus, falling into step like it had always been natural. The city was already busy. Horns, chatter, the buzz of motorbikes but in the bubble between them, things felt calm. Soft.

They talked about silly things. Group assignments, the theater play’s progress, the overpriced toast at the cafe near the library. But underneath it all was a quiet understanding: things were shifting, and they were letting it happen, together.

And then, just as they reached the quiet stretch before the university gates, Film shifted a little closer. Without saying a word, she slipped her arm through Namtan’s and gently linked them together.

Namtan stiffened ever so slightly in surprise, almost choking on her coffee before her shoulders relaxed.

Film couldn’t resist the smile forming on her face but choosing to look straight ahead instead, cheeks pink, pretending to admire a nearby billboard.

Namtan coughs comically, “I’m not normally a morning person but if my mornings will be like this with you then I won’t mind. Do you want me to get up at 5am next time?” Namtan jokes.

“Why bother when you can just…I don’t know, maybe sleep over?” Film suggests, matter-of-factly.

Namtan’s jaw drops and her eyes widen like that of an owl’s.

Film didn’t look at her. She sipped her coffee very innocently. Arm still linked around Namtan.

“You—” Namtan sputtered. “Did you just—?”

Film blinked, all sugar-sweet and unfazed. “Hmm?”

Namtan pointed at her. “Ma’am. That was illegal.”

Film finally turned to her, trying and failing to look serious. “What? It’s just a practical suggestion. Saves time. Cuts down commute. Environmentally friendly” she smiles mischievously.

Namtan squinted, lips twitching as she tried to suppress her smile. “You’re dangerous in the mornings.”

“Which means…” Film said, taking a smug little sip, “you better get used to it, fast.”

Their arms stayed entwined the rest of the way to campus, swinging slightly with every step. And by the time they reached the university gates, both their hearts were too full to speak.

“See you later at rehearsals?” Namtan asked, trying to sound casual but failing adorably.

Film nodded, finally meeting her eyes with a soft smile. “See you.”

And just like that, they parted. One step closer, one touch warmer, and both a whole lot happier than yesterday.

- 🐥See you on the next chapter 🐼-

Chapter Text

🎵

Rehearsals were halfway through, the room buzzing with energy. Scripts scattered, shoes kicked off, actors flopped dramatically over chairs like they'd just survived a battle scene.

When the director finally called for a 30-minute break, everyone scattered: some made a beeline for the vending machines, others huddled into friend groups to scroll through their phones or rehearse lines.

Film, meanwhile, stayed back in the corner of the stage, stretching her arms above her head after putting down the brushes and palette, not quite sure where to go or who to join. She didn't want to assume anything. Not even now.

Namtan was across the room, still talking to the lighting crew, half-laughing at something one of them said. She was always warm with everyone as per her usual self. Friendly, natural, effortlessly liked. Film's mind wandered off to the reason why they had their first skirmish.

Just as that thought started to sink in, Namtan looked up and their eyes met.

Without hesitation, Namtan gently excused herself from the group and crossed the room, weaving through cables and scattered props, straight to Film.

She didn't say anything right away.

Instead, she reached into her bag and pulled out an electrolyte drink, the same one Film got her the day they fought, it's slightly damp from the condensation as she offered it with an easy smile. "Hydration delivery for my favorite art department volunteer"

Film blinked and a smile slowly crept on her face. "Of all the drinks huh?"

"Of course," Namtan said, like it was obvious. "I won't mess it up this time."

Film took it slowly, fingers brushing over Namtan's. "Thank you"

Before she could say more, Namtan leaned in, not close enough to draw stares, but just enough so her voice was low and meant for Film alone.

"I know I talk to everyone, but I only check in with you," she said, eyes soft. "Don't ever think I don't notice you most."

Film's breath caught, her cheeks warming.

"Also," Namtan added with a mischievous little smirk, "you're the only one I snuck a snack for. Top zipper pocket."

Film opened it and a small pack of her favorite seaweed snack welcome her, already half-crushed but clearly intentional.

She tried to hide her smile, but it was useless. "That's... a suspicious amount of effort."

"Hey," Namtan said, bumping her shoulder, "you're a suspiciously important person." Namtan then tugged on Film's sleeve.

"Come on," she said with a conspiratorial grin.

Film blinked. "Where are we going?"

"Escape mission," Namtan said, already pulling her toward the hallway. "You're being kidnapped. For hydration and peace."

Film let herself be dragged with only the tiniest resistance. "Should I be worried?"

Namtan only gave her a mischievous grin.

They slipped out into the hallway just outside the auditorium, and the moment the door closed behind them, the chaos of the rehearsal room was replaced by silence, the kind you only find in university buildings during off-hours. The air was cooler here, the hallway shaded and still. A breeze floated through, carrying the faint scent of campus grass and the rustle of trees.

"Up here," Namtan said, tilting her chin toward a quiet stairwell a few steps away. They climbed a few steps and settled on a small landing tucked away from view, sitting cross-legged like kids hiding out during lunch break.

Film cracked open her drink and took a long sip before glancing at Namtan. "So...this is your secret hangout, I see."

Namtan shrugged. "I like the view. And no one ever finds me here unless I want them to."

Film raised a brow. "So you brought me here. That's saying something."

Namtan gave her a soft smile. "Exactly."

For a moment, they just sat there, sipping quietly, the wind playing gently with loose strands of their hair. It wasn't dramatic or intense, it was simple. Easy. Good.

"Thanks again for this," Film said eventually, voice softer than before.

"Don't thank me yet," Namtan replied, stretching her legs out with a grin. "I still have about twenty-five more minutes of your undivided attention and some smooches"

Film rolled her eyes playfully.

"Whaaaaat?" Namtan said, turning to face her more fully. "Don't think for a second that I forgot about it"

Film laughed, shaking her head. "I'm guessing that's the real reason you pulled me out here?"

Namtan pretends to think. "Hmm, maybe?"

Film took another sip of her drink and tilted her head casually toward the trees, their branches cascading near the corridor rails. "Mmm, the breeze really is nice out here."

Namtan narrowed her eyes. "Don't think I don't see what you're doing."

"Doing what?" Film asked, all innocent, still refusing to meet her gaze. "I'm just enjoying nature."

"You owe me," Namtan said, pointing to her eyes. "These poor, puffy victims of emotion. Someone promised me eye kisses but pretends the wind is more important than my suffering."

Film turned her head just slightly, a tiny smile tugging at her lips. "You're really pulling the full guilt trip, huh?"

"I sang my heart out for you," Namtan said, drawing each word out like a tragedy. "Live. On-air. Tear-stained. Soul-bare. And now I sit here, abandoned, smoochless."

Film finally turned her head slightly, biting back a smile as she side-eyed her. "Did you just say smoochless?"

Namtan nodded with the saddest pout imaginable, lips pushed out and all.

Film giggled, just a little, but bit it back quickly. "You're too good at that face. Stop it."

"Then pay your dues!" Namtan pointed at her eyes.

Film peeked at her sideways, eyes playful and her voice low. "You want them now?"

Namtan blinked, suddenly nervous. "Yes—well, I mean—if you're offering—wait, are you?"

Film leaned back again with a sly little smile. "Nope."

Namtan's jaw dropped in frustration. "Film!!!"

But Namtan's protest was cut short when Film finally leaned in slowly, deliberately and pressed her cheek lightly against Namtan's temple. One hand came up, gingerly cupping the other side of Namtan's face, her touch feather-light and careful.

Film's nose brushed softly against Namtan's cheek, breathing in that familiar baby powder scent that always seemed to linger around her.

Namtan stayed frozen in place, her heartbeat pounding so loud it felt like it echoed in her ears, her chest tight with the kind of emotion that didn't know whether to melt or explode.

With quiet tenderness, Film guided Namtan to turn slightly toward her and placed the gentlest kiss at the corner of one eye, then the other. She lingered there, lips still for a few blissful seconds, as if memorizing the moment.

Then, forehead to forehead, Film exhaled, her slightly trembling hands still cradling Namtan's face like it's something fragile. Namtan's own hand came up slowly, fingers brushing over Film's wrist in a silent response.

She rubbed their noses together softly, her lips curving into a cheeky smile.

Film, once again, leaned in and gave Namtan's dainty little nose a quick peck; warm, shy, and entirely hers.

It made Namtan freeze, wide-eyed and stunned. "Heh, a bonus" she thought, snickering to herself deep inside.

Film pulled back, feigning nonchalance. "There. Debt paid."

Namtan blinked slowly, face pink. "I... might need interest."

Film snorted. "Don't push it."

They both laugh.

Then, without another word, Namtan set her drink aside and gently tugged Film toward her. Surprised but not resisting, Film let herself be pulled in, finding herself wrapped in a warm, secure hug.

Namtan's arms circled her protectively, and before Film could make another snarky remark or tease her way out of the growing warmth in her chest, Namtan shifted, guiding her down with practiced care.

"Here," Namtan murmured. "Rest for a bit."

Film blinked but obeyed, lowering her head to Namtan's lap. It felt silly, vulnerable and oddly right. She let her eyes flutter shut as Namtan's fingers gently swept strands of hair away from her forehead, trailing lightly down to her cheek in a soothing rhythm.

Namtan looked down at the girl curled into her, the faintest smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Her fingers never stopped moving, tracing comfort into Film's skin.

A thought hit her like a tidal wave.

She wanted Film. Officially, openly, unshakably.

Film shifted slightly, sighing contentedly, and Namtan smiled to herself.

They stayed like that for a while. Film's head resting peacefully on Namtan's lap, Namtan's fingers stroking her cheek with quiet devotion. The wind outside the hallway stirred again as sunset rays slowly creep through the floor.

Amidst the rustling of leaves, Namtan spoke.

"...Do you want to go to the planetarium this weekend?"

Film's eyes remained closed; her expression soft, nearly dreamy. For a second, she didn't respond, and Namtan thought maybe she'd spoken too quietly.

But then Film nodded gently, her lips curving into the faintest smile. "Mhm. Yeah," she murmured. "I'd like that."

And then, without opening her eyes, she leaned further into Namtan's touch, nestling into the safety of it, like her whole body understood what her words hadn't yet said aloud.

Namtan's heart squeezed, breath catching just slightly in her throat.

And in that quiet, breezy hallway, the world muted just for them.

- 🐥See you on the next chapter 🐼-

Chapter Text

🎵

The hotpot restaurant was tucked into a cozy corner of a bustling street, its warm glow spilling out onto the sidewalk like an invitation. Dim pendant lights hung low over each table, casting a soft golden hue on bubbling broths and rising steam.

Wooden tables were separated by bamboo dividers, offering just enough privacy for conversations and the occasional belly laugh as steam billowed up from the bubbling pot, the spicy broth crackling with chili oil and the occasional rebellious fishball.

Film and Love sat at a corner booth with cushions tucked into the bench, their cheeks slightly pink from the warmth of the soup and the excitement of the conversation.

“Okay, I went away for a modeling gig and suddenly you’re little miss radio show queen? Spill it. Who was that on the radio weeks ago?” Love said, plopping down on her chair after getting two iced teas in hand. “You’ve been smiling to yourself for the past fifteen minutes like a lunatic”

Film was quietly adding mushrooms and tofu, pretending not to notice Love staring at her like she was about to interrogate a suspect on a crime show.

“You’re really not gonna tell me until I bring it up first, huh?” Love said slowly, drawing out the syllable as she twirled noodles around her chopsticks.

Film raised an eyebrow. “That depends. Who do you think it is?”

Love’s eyes narrowed. “Oh my gosh. No way. Is it… who I think it is? Namtan? Was that really her voice???”

“…Yeah.” Film tried to hide her smile but failing miserably.

Love gasped, physically clutched her chest like she’d just taken a hit. She dramatically scooted her chair closer, almost knocking over the dipping sauces. “YOU’RE KIDDING ME.”

“I’m not!”

“Since when?! Since when, Film?! I feel so betrayed! I didn’t even get to go through the emotional journey! I’m—I'm behind on episodes! How long have you two been…what even are you two? Did she kiss you? Did you kiss her?”

Film burst into laughter, nearly snorting into her iced tea. “Love, calm down. It’s not a drama. Well. Maybe a little. We had our radio moment. And… no kissing yet. But we’ve been spending time. She’s taking me to the planetarium this weekend”

Love dropped her chopsticks. “You’re kidding. The planetarium? As in, ‘I wanna hold your hand under pretend galaxies’ planetarium?”

Film nodded, unable to hide the shy smile tugging at her lips. “She asked while I was resting on her lap.”

“STOP.” Love flailed, almost sending her tea flying. “This is so romantic I could scream. No, seriously, I’m sweating. Is it the soup or my feelings?!”

“Probably both,” Film said, cackling.

Love stared at her, stunned for a moment longer. Then she blinked, the weight of everything finally settling in. “Wait.”

“What now?”

“I—” Love paused, her voice dipping suddenly. “I feel like an idiot. I should’ve seen it. Or at least known about your preferences. I just assumed. I’m your best friend and I didn’t know.” She toyed with her chopsticks. “I don’t want to be that person who doesn’t see you, you know?”

Film looked up, caught off guard by her sudden seriousness, she reached out held Love’s hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Hey, don’t feel bad. I didn’t even know for sure until recently. I didn’t even know what I was feeling for the longest time, I thought this was just a silly, little crush at first. But then again, it’s not about who I like, it’s about… who makes me feel safe. Seen. And she does.”

Love’s eyes softened. “And you deserve that. So much.”

“Not just me, us both”

As the sun dipped lower and the broth in their bowls slowly dwindled, Love leaned back with her full belly, “You know what? I’m really happy for you. Like, for real. And I better be the first person you text when she kisses you under fake stars.”

Film choked on her iced tea and threw a napkin at Love. “You’re impossible.”

“Do I get to help you pick the outfit?” asks Love.

“Oh no.”

“Oh yes.”

They both dissolved into laughter again, the kind that made people passing by glance their way and smile.

--

Meanwhile, Namtan and Milk casually stroll through a pop-up bazaar on a random Thursday as the afternoon sun softened into a mellow gold, the duo wandered lazily through the winding rows of a local market. 

The scent of coffee mixed with freshly baked pastries and secondhand books waft through the air.

Namtan paused to flip through a crate of old vinyls, her fingers grazing over familiar covers. Milk, a few steps behind, was busy trying on a pair of sunglasses from a vintage stall.

“So,” Milk said casually, not looking up. “How’s the star of the airwaves doing?”

Namtan stifled a laugh, placing a record back in its sleeve. “Please don’t start.”

“Shut up, you’re the one who begged me to let you do that live on air”

Namtan rolled her eyes but her smile gave her away.

Milk handed the sunglasses back to the vendor with a sheepish grin and caught up to Namtan. “Was our mission a success though? How did it go? With Film?”

Namtan glanced down at the sketchbook she had picked up, flipping through the blank pages. “Better than I expected. She didn’t run. She didn’t shut me out. She… heard me. And I think she’s starting to trust me again.”

Milk slowed her steps, bumping shoulders with her gently. “I’m really proud of you, you know. For owning it.”

Namtan’s voice was softer now. “What can I do? I’m already in too deep, Milk. We both know I’m an idiot at times, but what I have with Film right now, it’s the only thing that I don’t want to mess up, I was so afraid when I thought she was going to avoid me forever, I don’t want that to ever happen again, I want her with me, always”

Milk stopped walking, turning to face her. “Maaan, please tell me I have tears in my pretty eyes, I am so freaking happy for you. I think you’ve already proved yourself to her. But if I’m being honest…” she lowered her voice a bit, “Film’s been holding back. She’s got walls up but you’re chipping away at them one by one, keep it up, I’m rooting for you.”

Namtan smiled as Milk draped an arm around her, giving her a tight side hug.

The two of them wandered down another row of stalls, the soft golden light wrapping around them. They stumbled upon a small booth selling silver and white gold jewelry. Namtan paused, glancing over a delicate necklace with a pendant shaped like a crescent moon with a star in it.

“I think I’m gonna buy this for Film,” Namtan said, holding the pendant up to the light, her voice uncharacteristically soft. “She deserves something nice. For believing in me.”

“Cute. Disgusting. Adorable. I’m gonna throw that mini cactus at you in support.” Says Milk and pretends to head over to the adjacent stall selling potted succulents.

Namtan laughed loudly, punching Milk lightly on the arm.

- 🐥See you on the next chapter 🐼-

Chapter Text

🎵

A/N: First of all, I apologize for the weeks that have lapsed. I was on leave and travelling + other wlw problems that came up so my life was a bit of a mess 🥺 Anyway, I am back with updates! I hope you enjoy it as much as I did ☺️💖

=======

The dorm room looked like a fashion battlefield.

Clothes were flung across every available surface. Shirts draped over the desk chair, dresses dangling off the bed frame, a mountain of rejected jeans piling on the floor.

Film stood in front of the mirror, one foot with a shoe on and the other barefoot, clutching two hangers like they were swords in a duel: one with a cream-colored blouse, the other with a denim jacket.

"I have nothing to wear," she groaned dramatically, dropping both hangers on the bed and collapsing beside them.

"You have everything to wear," Love said, sitting cross-legged on the floor, inspecting her shiny, newly polished nails "and yet you're acting like you're about to walk the Cannes red carpet."

"It's not just any date," Film said, peeking out from under a pillow she had buried herself beneath. "It's our first date, I can't show up looking like a pile of laundry."

Love raised an eyebrow. "You are a pile of laundry right now."

Film let out a muffled scream.

Love stood up and gently peeled the pillow away. "Get up Rachanun and let's get to work"

After a good hour and a half, Love stood back with her hands on her hips, surveying Film now fully dressed, styled, and no longer buried under a pillow mountain of panic.

"See?" Love said with a proud grin.

Film turned toward the mirror, adjusting the scarf in her hair with flushed cheeks. "You really think it's okay?"

Love gave her an approving once-over, then dramatically flicked an invisible wand in the air.

"My work here is done," she declared, swishing her imaginary cape like a fairy godmother. "Now go. Be charming. Be gay."

Film snorted, grabbing her bag. "Thanks, Fairy Godmother Love."

Love winked. "Thank me by spilling the full deets of how your date went later."

--

The late afternoon sun cast golden lines across the pavement as Namtan pulled up outside Film's place.

She double-checked her reflection in her side mirror. She had traded her usual oversized shirt for a fitted, black blouse tucked into her cream-colored trousers, paired with oxblood-toned chunky loafers. She looked effortlessly casual, but there was no mistaking the intention: she had dressed for someone.

She had planned to make a smooth impression, showing up early. Just as she was about to check her phone, the door opened and there stood Film.

Namtan's breath caught, just for a second.

Film was wearing a long-sleeved, fitted top in a warm terracotta while her black skirt is floral-patterned; giving the whole outfit a vintage flair, she tops it off with a beige headscarf tied around her head.

"W-wow, you look..." Namtan started, eyes wide as they landed on Film. The burnt orange top hugged her just right, the scoop neckline drawing attention to the delicate slope of her collarbone, Film looked like she'd walked straight out of a vintage romance film.

Namtan blinked rapidly.

Film grinned, secretly proud of her and Love's outfit mission earlier. "You're not so bad yourself," she said, stepping forward to gently dust something nonexistent off Namtan's shoulder.

"Yeah, well... I had to match you," Namtan replied, scratching the back of her neck shyly.

But just as she moved closer to hand Film the helmet, she paused, nose twitching slightly. She leaned in, subtly trying to sniff without being weird.

"...Wait," she said, eyes narrowing. "You smell really good."

Film blinked, then tilted her head coyly. "You like it?"

"It's like...minty and floral, smells so fresh. What is that?"

Film turned her head to one side, lifting her hand to gently brush her hair back and exposing the elegant curve just behind her ear. "If you want to really smell it," she said with a devilish little smirk, "you'll have to lean in here."

Namtan immediately short-circuited. "Are you trying to assassinate me before our date?"

Film laughed, her collarbone catching the light just so. "I'm just kidding, Phi"

"Stop," Namtan begged dramatically, shielding her eyes. "You're weaponizing beauty. That's a war crime." She then proceeds to clasp the helmet's latch, fixing it just below Film's chin. She couldn't help but notice the girl's lips.

Pink and plump, with just enough lip gloss, inviting her to dive in.

Film simply giggled "My eyes are up here" she teased. "Phi, I need you to focus. Wouldn't want to crash before the date even starts."

Namtan huffed as she climbed on the scooter, still slightly stunned. "Unreal. You come out here looking like a poem and smell like a dream, and now I'm supposed to operate machinery?"

Film leaned close as she got on behind her. "Good luck."

Namtan swallowed. "I better get a reward if we survive this"

--

The moment they stepped into the cool, darkened lobby of the planetarium, the atmosphere shifted. The overhead lights were dim, casting a gentle glow, and soft instrumental music played in the background. A few couples and families milled about, but to Film, it felt like the universe had quieted just for them.

They checked in and were handed their tickets along with little glow-in-the-dark star maps. Namtan squinted at hers dramatically.

"Why does this look like IKEA instructions for the Milky Way?" she muttered.

Film laughed. "It's literally just dots and lines."

"I'm too gay for science," Namtan sighed, clutching her map like a tragic heroine. "Unless the science is you."

Film snorted. "You rehearsed that one, didn't you?"

"Don't call me out on my craft." Namtan pouts.

They wandered into the exhibit area first, passing interactive displays and scale models of planets. Namtan got overly excited pressing all the buttons on the touchscreen panels, then panicked when a loud audio explanation of Jupiter's storm system began booming across the room.

Film clutched her stomach from laughing too hard.

Namtan made a face that was equivalent to "Yikes"

Eventually, they made it to the dome theatre. The seats were reclined, cozy, and the dome above stretched wide like the sky itself. As the lights dimmed, a soft voice filled the space, welcoming them to the night sky.

The stars blinked to life.

Film let out a tiny gasp, her head tilting up to watch. Namtan glanced at her instead.

"You're not even looking at the stars," Film whispered, catching her.

"I am," Namtan whispered back, lying, eyes still on her.

She never saw this coming.

Not from the moment she first met Film. Guarded and stoic, with eyes that always seemed to hold something back. Not even during the messy phase; all the missed chances, the heartbreak, the near goodbyes.

But here they were now. Side by side. After it all.

She let herself linger in the silence, her thoughts louder than any words.

How did we get here?

Not in a doubtful way but an awe-filled, cosmic kind of wondering. Like when light travels billions of years just to reach our eyes. Like when you realize that out of all the people, all the timelines, this is the one you're in. The one where she exists, and Film exists, and somehow, in the vastness of the universe, they exist together.

Namtan tucked that thought deep in her chest, almost afraid to say it aloud in case it shattered. Not now. She thought, while clasping the necklace in her pocket secretly.

Film glanced at her, lips quirking up.

Namtan didn't speak. She just smiled back, a little helpless and a little shy.

Because right now, she didn't need the universe to explain itself.

It gave her this.

And that was enough.

When the dome projected a swirling galaxy and the narrator talked about how light from distant stars takes millions of years to reach Earth, Namtan reached out, found Film's hand in the dark, and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"Kind of wild," Namtan murmured. "The universe is so vast and yet somehow, we exist in the same space at the same time."

Film turned her head slightly, caressing Namtan's hand with her thumb. "And boy, am I glad that we do"

In the silence that followed, their longing stares seemed to burn and brighten the dimly lit dome.

The show ended with a quiet musical crescendo, the dome fading back to a soft twilight blue as the lights came back on.

As the crowd began to thin from the dome theatre, Namtan and Film followed a small glowing sign that read "Cosmos Café ". It led them to a tucked-away eatery inside the planetarium. 

Dimly lit with warm gold lanterns and fairy lights strung along the ceiling like constellations. The walls were painted deep navy, with planets and stars artistically scattered across them.

"Okay, this place is working overtime to make me think of relocating here permanently," Namtan muttered as they were led to their booth by a waiter in an astronaut apron followed by a couple of complimentary drinks.

"I think the last time I went to a planetarium, I was too short to even reach the telescope eyepiece." says Film.

"You're still a tad too short to reach it even now" Namtan grins before sipping her drink.

Film gave her a faux-scolding glare.

"So, seems like you're well aware about this place" she began, tilting her head at Namtan with mock suspicion, "do you bring girls here all the time?"

Namtan choked mid-sip, setting her drink down a little too fast. "W-what? No!" she said, eyes wide.

Film raised an eyebrow, still smirking. "Hmm. That defensive tone sounds suspicious, Phi."

Namtan leaned forward, voice low but playful. "You're the first girl I've ever brought here. I swear".

Film's smirk faltered slightly, replaced with a more thoughtful smile. She looked down at her drink, then quietly murmured under her breath, almost like it slipped out on accident, "Hopefully the last too"

But Namtan heard her and her heart skipped.

She didn't say anything immediately, but her lips curved up in a soft, knowing smile. Below the table, their knees brushed gently. Neither of them moved away.

Namtan rested her chin on her hand and looked at Film, cheeks a little pink. "You keep saying things like that, and I might never let you leave."

Film blinked at her drink nervously, realizing she voiced her thoughts out loud.

After the initial shock though, she replied "Who knows? Maybe that's my goal."

--

After their hearty meal, they moved on to the final part of their date, which Namtan planned carefully, the Space and Time Cube. She had reserved the place in advance so that it will only be the two of them inside.

Ever since the night they'd sat under the stars handcuffed together at the school fair, something had shifted. Getting to know Film better after that evening had only made it clearer: this girl had become someone special. So, it felt right to bring her here, of all places.

The Space and Time Cube was a multi-sensory installation filled with shifting lights, swirling colors, and immersive soundscapes, like stepping inside the universe's heartbeat. (**link to space & time cube)

And then, without warning, the show began.

Light bloomed across the walls and ceiling, cascading in brilliant waves of color. Purples, silvers, deep blues, and starburst golds reflect on the walls in a kaleidoscopic way. A slow pulse of music followed.

Film's breath caught. She leaned slightly into Namtan's touch, eyes wide in quiet awe. It was ethereal.

"Whoa... it's like being inside a dream. Or... inside a star. How does this even exist?"

She turns slowly, taking in the swirling light and color all around them. Her eyes eventually land on Namtan, glowing faintly in the light show and she smiles, a bit breathless.

"This is... incredible. Phi'Namtan, seriously, thank you. I've never seen anything like this. I didn't even know things like this could exist."

Namtan smiles, amused by her reaction.

Film then takes a small step closer, almost shy.

"You always know how to surprise me. In the best way. You could've taken me anywhere tonight, and I would've been happy just being with you... but this? This is unforgettable."

She gazes up at the shifting ceiling above them for a beat, eyes shimmering with light and emotion, before looking back at Namtan.

"I feel like I'm floating. Thank you for making tonight feel like magic."

"No. Thank you... for being the magic in my life these past few months. For letting me in, to your world, your thoughts, your quiet moments. For letting me feel things I haven't...ever felt this deeply for someone else."

Her voice cracked, the emotion catching up to her words.

"Hey, hey...are you alright?" Film asks, despite feeling the weight of the moment, there's something inside that tells her this may not be just a normal date for the both of them. Nevertheless, she cups Namtan's cheeks gently.

Namtan didn't say anything. She just looked at Film, softly lit by celestial glow, her features shifting with each new burst of light and smiled to herself.

This was the moment she'd been hoping for.

She took both of Film's hands in hers now, holding them close between them. Her fingers trembled, but her voice steadied as she pressed a kiss to the backs of Film's hands, one after the other, gentle and reverent.

And then, her voice just above a whisper:

"Film... will you be my girlfriend?"

- 🐥See you on the next chapter 🐼-

A/N: Did anybody notice Film's attire in this chapter? It's what she wore during Namtan's birthday last year, look it up😉

Chapter Text

🎵

There's a beat of stillness. The kind that feels suspended in time, like the cube itself was holding its breath along with them.

She already knew, the moment Namtan's voice wavered, when her words softened like unraveling silk, that something was about to happen, her gut feeling says so.

Film's breath caught mid-air as Namtan kissed her hands. The light around them shifted, casting Namtan's face in pale lavender and soft gold. Her longing gaze makes Film want to melt into a puddle.

And then, she said it.

"Film, will you be my girlfriend?"

Film blinked.

What???

Did she just—?

For a heartbeat, the world stilled. The only sound was the wild drumming of her pulse, loud enough that she wondered if Namtan could hear it too. Her lips parted, not to speak, but in quiet disbelief, because the girl standing before her, the one who had once been nothing more than a distant wish, was now looking at her with hopeful, expectant eyes.

Namtan.

The same girl Film used to glance at across the courtyard, when she thought no one was watching. When she thought her feelings had no place, no space to bloom.

And yet, here Namtan was, asking for what Film had never dared to hope for.

Tears pricked at the corners of Film's eyes, but she didn't let them fall. Instead, she stepped forward, her hands trembling as they rose slowly to up Namtan's face.

There was no hesitation left.

Film leaned in, her body pressing flush against Namtan's, and then—

Their lips met.

Namtan's breath hitched, her hands instantly finding Film's waist, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them.

Film's lips were tender against Namtan's, moving in a slow, aching glide. Up, then down, savoring the way Namtan's mouth yielded to hers. A quiet sigh escaped Namtan, her fingers tightening at Film's waist.

Namtan's tongue traced the seam of Film's lips, not demanding, but asking. Film opened for her with a quiet gasp, and the kiss deepened. Slow, intoxicating, as if they had all the time in the world and yet none at all.

Film melted into it, her fingers tangling in Namtan's hair as she opened for her, letting their tongues meet in a slow, swirling dance. Film moaned softly, her body arching into Namtan's, craving more.

Their lips moved in a rhythm now. Deep, languid kisses, each one longer than the last. Namtan's hands slid up Film's back, fingers pressing into the dip of her spine, urging her even closer. Film could feel the heat of Namtan's skin through her clothes, the way her breath hitched every time Film nipped at her lower lip or sucked gently on her tongue.

The world blurred.

There was only this, the slick heat of their mouths moving together, the soft, wet sounds of their kisses. Film's head spun, her entire body alight with need, every nerve humming as Namtan's tongue stroked against hers in slow, maddening circles.

Then came the whisper, warm against Namtan's lips:

"Yes. I'd love to be yours."

Because truth be told, she already had been. Quietly. Slowly. Completely.

She had just been waiting for Namtan to ask.

Namtan let out a choked laugh. Relieved, delighted, stunned. "You mean it?"

Film smiled and gently tugged at Namtan's hands. "I meant it the moment I started saving your voice notes."

"Voice notes, huh?" Namtan murmured against her mouth, her hands sliding up Film's arms, memorizing the feel of her. "So you did listen to them on repeat."

"Hearing you say babi was kinda cute" Film confesses, recalling to that night they stayed up late messaging each other on the phone.

"You're my babi now" Namtan adds.

Film's cheeks flushed, but she didn't deny it. Instead, she traced idle circles over Namtan's collarbone, her touch feather-light.

Namtan's thumb brushed Film's kiss-swollen lips, her voice suddenly serious. "Say it again."

Film understood. She leaned in, her breath warm against Namtan's mouth as she repeated, softer this time.

"I'm yours."

Namtan's eyes fluttered shut, as if savoring the words.

--

The night air was warm against Film's skin as they stepped out of the planetarium, their fingers still laced together. Namtan swung her leg over the scooter, patting the space behind her with a grin. "Hop on...girlfriend."

The word sent a thrill through Film's chest.

Girlfriend.

She bit her lip to hide her smile and climbed on, her hands hovering awkwardly at Namtan's waist.

Namtan glanced back, eyebrow raised. "You're gonna fall off if you hold me like I'm made of glass." She grabbed Film's wrists and pulled her forward until Film's chest pressed against her back. "Better."

Film's breath hitched as she wrapped her arms fully around Namtan, her chin hooking over her shoulder. The engine purred to life beneath them, and then they were moving, the city lights blurring into streaks of gold.

At a red light, Namtan tilted her head back slightly. "You okay?" she asked, her voice soft over the hum of traffic.

Film smiled against her shoulder. "Perfect."

Namtan squeezed her hand where it rested over her stomach, a silent "Me too"

As they rode, Film let her eyes drift closed, memorizing the feeling. The warmth of Namtan's back against her, the way the wind tangled their laughter together. She'd replayed moments like this in her head a hundred times, but the reality was sweeter than she'd ever imagined.

When they reached Film's apartment, Namtan killed the engine and walked Film to the gate, but she had one more surprise.

"Close your eyes for a second."

Film pulled back, curious. "Why?"

"Just trust me."

With a small smile, Film obeyed. She heard the rustle of fabric, then felt Namtan's fingers brush her hair aside. Something cool and delicate settled against her collarbone.

"Okay," Namtan murmured. "Look."

Film opened her eyes and glanced down. A necklace lay against her skin, with a pendant that had a tiny silver moon cradling a star. Her fingers flew to it, stunned.

"Namtan—"

"I saw it weeks ago and thought of you," Namtan admitted, her voice uncharacteristically shy. "The moon was like this when we talked over the phone after my radio confession" She tucked a strand of hair behind Film's ear. "I was... waiting for the right moment."

Film was speechless.

Instead, she leaned forward, pressing her forehead to Namtan's, her fingers still curled around the necklace, around the proof that Namtan had loved her even before tonight.

A heartbeat passed. Then another. Film's chest ached with something too big to name.

"I love you," she breathed, the words spilling out like they'd been waiting years to be said.

Namtan's breath hitched. Her hands cradled Film's face, her eyes shimmering. "I'm not dreaming, am I?"

Film laughed, tears clinging to her lashes. "No. You're not. I love you, Phi'Namtan. So much it—"

Namtan kissed her, deep and sweet, cutting off the rest.

When she pulled back, her voice was raw with emotion ""I love you too."

"Now you're stuck with me forever," Film whispered.

Namtan's grin was brighter than the moon above them. "Wouldn't have it any other way."

- 🐥See you on the next chapter 🐼-

Chapter Text

🎵

It had been a few weeks since Namtan and Film have become official. Now, their daily routines had settled into a comfortable rhythm, almost like they’d been built with each other in mind from the start.

Every morning, Namtan waited at the bus stop, perched casually on the low wall with two coffees in hand. One for her. One for Film. And every morning, Film arrived with that sleepy smile, eyes lighting up the second she spotted Namtan. 

No words were needed at first. Just a smile, a soft brush of fingers as the drink was passed over, and Namtan leaning in to giver her a soft sniff-kiss on the cheek, which never fails to make Film fluster.

The end of the semester loomed and so did opening night. The stage was nearly set. The volunteers had already completed most of the intricate mural backdrop, and Film was there for the finishing touches, quietly brushing highlights along painted clouds and rooftops.

Out front, Namtan stood center stage, script rolled up in one hand, mouthing lines to herself with intense focus. From her spot near the back, half-concealed in the shadows, Film looked up and paused, brush in hand, heart skipping in her chest. 

There was something about the way Namtan moved in the space, it was mesmerizing whenever she’s on her element. It made Film smile without meaning to.

As she was about to return to her painting, a sudden voice cut through the hum of the auditorium. Sharp, frazzled, and unmistakably frustrated.

“What do you mean he’s not coming?!”

All heads turned.

Up by the director’s podium, their professor stood tense, script in hand, eyes scanning the room like a general whose soldier had gone missing in battle.

“We’re short a lead, this is the scene we needed him for,” he said, voice rising. “This is the final buildup! We can’t afford to lose rehearsal time”

Then, his eyes locked on someone near the back.

“You there! Come here for a second.”

Film blinked. Froze. Pointed at herself.

“Me?”

“Yes, yes, you,” the professor waved her forward impatiently. “Come, quickly.”

There were several amused snickers from the crew, and Namtan turned toward the commotion, eyebrows rising in surprise as she spotted Film hesitantly jogging down the stairs with a paint-smeared rag still tucked in her waistband.

“I… I’m not in the cast,” Film mumbled as she reached the director, unsure whether to be honored or horrified.

“I know that. But right now, we just need a warm body who can read lines opposite Namtan so we can block this properly. You don’t need to memorize anything.”

Namtan tilted her head from center stage, trying not to grin. “Looks like you’re my leading lady now,” she teased under her breath.

Film’s ears turned pink as she tried to open the script without dropping it.

Then the director added, “And it’s a romantic scene. So, lean into it.”

Film's eyes snapped up. Romantic?! In front of all these people?!

She stole a glance at Namtan, who raised an eyebrow and gave her a little shrug, mischief dancing in her smile.

“Scene Twelve,” the professor’s voice echoed through the auditorium, clipboard in hand. “Confession. Film, step in as Than. Namtan, as you were. Let’s run it clean this time.”

Film stood stiffly; script clutched in both hands like a lifeline. Namtan, however, looked like she’d just been handed dessert. She took her spot with a confidence so relaxed it made Film want to evaporate.

The lights dimmed to a warm gold, bathing them in the simulated glow of twilight. And then Namtan took a step closer. And another.

Film began to read, trying to ignore how Namtan’s real, actual eyes were gazing at her far more intently than scripted stage direction required.

“Than,” Namtan began, voice trembling just enough to be real. “You’re here.”

Film replied, stuttering for a second, “I couldn’t stay away… not when I knew you’d be standing here.” With an awkward grace, Film reached for Namtan’s waist, her hands landing gently but firmly. The contact made her insides twist, but she stayed committed, focusing on the lines.

There were a few giggles from the audience. The director gave an impatient wave. “Ignore them. Keep going.”

“I’ve loved you quietly for so long. But I’m done hiding,” she said, drawing closer, eyes locked with Namtan’s. Her cue was next. Film raised one hand and caressed Namtan’s cheek, slow and deliberate.

Namtan tilted her face toward the touch, leaning in, eyes fluttering closed in character.

That was it. The moment of the kiss.

From the back of the auditorium, whistles, soft whoops can be heard. There was also a dramatic gasp from someone clearly too invested.

Film’s eyes widened a fraction, and she froze. She saw Namtan smirk at her as she got closer, the girl is not planning to stop.

Is she really planning on kissing me in front of all these people?!

Namtan’s lips are just an inch away. An ambulance siren is ringing inside Film’s mind.

“End scene!” the director barked. “Good enough for now.”

Film didn’t even notice she was holding her breath.

A chorus of playful boos and exaggerated sighs echoed from the wings. Someone yelled, “Coward!” Another: “Give the people what they want!”

The rehearsal ended an hour after that explosive scene. Students were packing up props, adjusting lighting rigs, wiping down paintbrushes. But Namtan? She was walking on air.

She practically skipped down the steps from the stage, eyes sparkling as she caught sight of Film trying to make herself invisible near the curtain ropes.

“Well, someone’s the talk of the auditorium,” Namtan sing-songed, sidling up to her. Film, already red from the post-rehearsal attention, turned crimson. “I was trying not to pass out from stage fright. And you, Phi, weren’t helping at all.” She whined.

“I know you were teasing me back there, I saw your smirk before leaning in for a fake kiss!” she adds. Namtan chuckled, grabbing her wrist gently. “Come here, my drama queen.”

Before Film could respond, Namtan pulled her by the hand and ducked behind one of the larger set pieces backstage, a towering faux bookshelf.

Film side-eyed her, suspicious. “What are you doing?”

“Rewarding my girlfriend for her good work back there” Namtan whispered with a mischievous glint. She cradled Film’s cheeks with both hands, brushing away a strand of hair that had fallen loose. Then Namtan leaned in and kissed her.

Slow, long, and sweet.

Namtan tilted her head slightly, deepening it just enough for their mouths to mold perfectly together. Her lips parted only the slightest bit, closing around Film’s lower lip in a soft tug that sent goosebumps down her spine.

Film responded with a small, involuntary sigh, and that was all the permission Namtan needed.

Her tongue slipped past gently in slow, fluid strokes that swirled around Film’s equally eager tongue, Namtan let out a blissful moan amidst their kisses.

Film melted at the sound. Her arms came up instinctively to rest against Namtan’s waist, pulling her closer, her nerves spike with the idea of making out in public with the risk of being seen.

This is crazy dangerous

…and I love it

When they finally parted, the kiss lingering like a soft echo, both of them were flushed, eyes half-lidded with quiet awe.

“Now you don’t have to complain about that fake kiss” Namtan whispered, voice husky from the closeness.

“Gosh, I love rehearsals” Film retorts, giving Namtan a cheeky smile.

- 🐥See you on the next chapter 🐼-

Chapter Text

🎵

The sky had already begun its quiet shift from golden to dusky blue as Namtan and Film strolled down the pavement, hand in hand. Their steps were unhurried, the kind that naturally found rhythm after weeks of walking beside each other like this.

"I can't believe the stageplay's this close," Film said, her voice light but charged with energy.

Namtan smiled, though her fingers fidgeted against Film's. "I know, and it doesn't help with the nerves. I've done plays before, but this one feels different. Bigger."

Film turned her head slightly to glance at her. "You'll do great, that I'm sure of. You're kind of... magnetic on stage, you know?"

Namtan groaned softly, her free hand brushing her hair out of her face. "That just made it worse."

Film laughed and swung their hands gently between them. "I promise to be there, down the stage, I can even hold a copy of the script and mouth a dialogue in case you forget any. I feel like I've memorized your lines at this point."

Namtan chuckled, squeezing her hand. "You probably have. Want to go on stage as me if I choke?"

Film huffed, lips jutting out in a tiny pout. "No, I don't wanna," she said, swinging their hands dramatically. "If I'm gonna be playing a character in that play, it's going to be your co-lead! So Phi doesn't have to put her face so close to somebody else's." Film mutters to herself. She looked ahead stubbornly, but her cheeks were visibly flushed.

Namtan blinked, surprised for a moment, then laughed, delighted. "Oh? My little Nong'Film is jealous?"

Film side-eyes her, "Hmm, maybe, maybe not."

Namtan threw her arm around Film's shoulders and leaned in, nuzzling her nose affectionately against Film's cheek. "You are the cutest," she murmured, lips brushing lightly against her skin. "That kiss on stage was fake anyway. But this..." she tilted Film's chin gently, eyes gleaming with mischief, "this one's real."

She puckered her lips dramatically, leaning in with the full force of her signature charm but before she could land the kiss, Film burst into laughter and playfully placed her fingers against Namtan's pouted lips.

"Nope!" she giggled. "Denied!"

Namtan gasped, scandalized, then broke into a grin, "I demand to exercise my kissy rights as a girlfriend" she says, casually chasing after Film like a cartoon villain as they both laughed under the fading light.

But their playful chaos was cut short by a soft patter against the pavement. They looked up at the same time, the sky graying above them. The rain came down in sheets. Merciless, loud, drenching them in seconds.

Film blinked, her hand instinctively tugging Namtan toward the tree-lined sidewalk nearby. "Come on, let's get under cover before it gets worse"

But Namtan didn't budge. Instead, she spun out of Film's grip, twirling once in the open street with her arms out like a child on a playground. Raindrops kissed her face, her hair, her laughter echoing softly as she looked up into the sky like it was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen.

From beneath the leafy shade, Film stood frozen, watching.

With the light rain sprinkling around them and Namtan twirling freely in the middle of it all, Film couldn't help the soft smile that crept onto her lips.

God, she thought. This girl.

Just then, Namtan had her eyes locked on Film, that same mischievous glint dancing in her gaze. She tilted her head ever so slightly, her body lowering into a playful crouch, like a predator zeroing in on her unsuspecting prey.

Film immediately sensed danger.

"No, no, no--Phi, don't get any ideas now!" she squeaked, already taking a cautious step back, laughing nervously as she clutched her tote bag tighter.

Too late.

By the time Namtan broke into a full sprint with a war cry that would've made a drama club proud, Film was already turning tail, letting out a high-pitched squeal of delight as she darted down the rain-slicked sidewalk.

Their laughter echoed down the empty lane, soaked shoes slapping against the pavement, hair matted to their faces, socks squelching in drenched sneakers. Namtan chase her relentlessly, her wet fringe clinging to her forehead, a grin stretched wide across her face as she called after Film with triumphant glee.

And then, victory.

With a triumphant shout, Namtan caught Film by the waist, both of them nearly stumbling as they spun in a tangle of limbs and soaked uniforms. Film gasped, her chest heaving with laughter, catching her breath as Namtan held her tight from behind, arms wrapped firmly around her.

They stood like that for a moment. Breathless, dripping, and entirely in their own little world.

Namtan buried her face into the crook of Film's neck, inhaling the rain and shampoo and the soft, warm scent that always reminded her of home. She didn't say anything at first, she just let herself feel it. The absurd joy. The comfort. The freedom.

In that moment, Namtan realized she had never felt this free, this light. With Film, things didn't feel like a performance. She didn't have to impress or deflect. She could simply be. And as long as Film was beside her, Namtan didn't need the rest of the world.

She was her world.

Still smiling, Film turned and slipped her arms around Namtan's shoulders as she leaned her forehead against hers.

"I love you," Namtan whispered, the words escaping her lips before she could overthink them. Honest and raw, like the storm around them.

Film's smile softened. Her breath hitched for half a second, then without hesitation, she closed the small distance between them and kissed her. Slow, warm, and rain-slicked.

As their lips met, everything around them seemed to quiet. There were no rehearsals, no stage lights, no audience, just them.

"I love you too," Film whispered back against her lips. "So much."

--

They had finally reached the gate of Film's dorm house, clothes clinging to their skin, shoes squelching with every step. The rain had settled into a gentle drizzle, but they were soaked to the bone. Hair dripping, shoulders quivering, fingers pruned and cold.

"You are not going home like that," Film said firmly, placing both hands on her hips, her maternal mode kicking in with adorable conviction. "You'll get sick, and we can't risk that since the stageplay is just around the corner."

Namtan chuckled, rubbing her arms as she bounced on her toes. "It's fine, a quick taxicab will get me home in a jiffy."

Film glared. "No if's, no buts."

That made Namtan grin sheepishly. "Okay, okay, you win" she says, putting her hands up in mock surrender.

But as they stood at the foot of the dorm building, a hush fell between them. The door loomed quietly behind Film, and for a moment, neither of them moved.

It wasn't just about a hot shower anymore.

It hit them at the same time. This would be the first time Namtan stepped foot into Film's room. Into her space. Her books. Her mess. Her bed.

And for Film, letting Namtan in wasn't just literal. It was the ultimate trust fall. Her walls so carefully kept up were about to open just a little wider. Film's cheeks turned a distinct shade of rose. She looked away, suddenly unable to hold Namtan's gaze, lips pursed like she was trying to will her heartbeat into submission.

Namtan didn't say anything. She was watching Film with soft eyes, reading every flicker of hesitation and quiet courage written across her face.

Then, shyly but with quiet certainty, Film reached out and hooked her pinky around Namtan's.

She didn't look up. Just gave a tiny tug.

"Come on," she said, voice small but sure.

And like a spell had been cast, Namtan followed as Film turned around and led her inside.

Namtan stepped inside slowly, reverently, as if walking into a chapel, or somewhere sacred. Her wet socks made the softest squish against the wooden floors, and she toed off her shoes at the entrance instinctively. 

The air inside Film's room was warm and inviting, laced with the faint scent of lavender and something distinctly her. A quiet mix of clean laundry, acrylic paint, and that same perfume Namtan had nearly lost her mind over on their first date.

It was a small studio-type setup, but every corner whispered Film.

The bed sat neatly tucked near the far wall, a cream throw blanket slung casually over the edge, like someone had napped recently and didn't have the heart to fix it perfectly. Above the bed, Namtan's eyes were immediately drawn to a cluster of framed and unframed paintings. 

Film's passion projects, all brimming with emotion and color. Some abstract, some serene landscapes, one had a gray mallard duck as a subject while another had the planet Pluto.

Her steps brought her further in.

Across from the bed, a clean, bare wall was clearly used for movie nights, a tiny white projector sat beside a compact laptop station. A few cords were tucked behind a shelf, and a pair of comfy wireless headphones rested on top.

This was where Film must retreat when the world got too loud, Namtan thought. She smiled softly. Already imagining Film's daily routine.

A guitar leaned gently against the bedside table, one string slightly out of tune as she accidentally brushed it. Its faint, flat twang rang out softly, like a shy hello.

The corner to the left had a tall adjustable lamp with a brass finish, stretched toward the sliding window where a small balcony peeked out, flanked by potted plants and a weather-worn wooden reading chair.

Then came the sound of a soft metallic chime, and Namtan looked up to spot the windchime hanging just beside the balcony door. Its gentle, dreamy tune rang with the breeze that filtered through the barely open window. It added a zen-like hum to the air.

Namtan stood there for a moment, soaked to the skin, slightly shivering but completely entranced.

"This room is so you," she finally murmured, voice nearly lost to the chime. "Like... if someone asked me what your soul looks like, this would be it."

From behind her, Film was rummaging through a dresser for dry clothes, trying to hide the grin tugging at her lips. "That better not be your way of judging the mess."

"I mean, if this is a mess, it's the good, cozy kind of mess" Namtan said honestly, and turned to meet Film's eyes. "Seriously... I love it."

Film froze for a second, smiling. Then, without turning back, she mumbled, "I'll grab you a towel first. Then you can pick what you wanna wear."

"Got anything that says cool girlfriend on it?" Namtan teased, peeling off her jacket.

Film snorted, cheeks warming. "I've got a hoodie that says I tried. Close enough?" and they laughed.

She gently tapped Namtan on the back, steering her toward the bathroom with a towel and a change of clothes folded neatly in her hands. "You shower first, okay? You're shivering," she said, trying to keep her voice casual, though her fingers betrayed her, fidgeting with the hem of her own damp shirt.

Namtan turned to raise an eyebrow at her, amused. "You sure? I can wait."

"Nope. You go. I'll—uh—I'll be out here. Just call if you need anything. Like... lotion, baby powder or... I don't know, moral support?" Film said, waving vaguely toward the bathroom as if it might swallow her whole if she didn't keep things moving.

Namtan smirked, holding back a tease. "Moral support in the shower? Bold of you."

Film flushed instantly and made a noise somewhere between a laugh and a sputter. "You know that's not what I meant!"

Namtan finally relented, stepping into the bathroom with a soft chuckle and a wink, leaving the door slightly ajar. "Thanks, babi."

Once alone, Film stood in the middle of her room, hands on her hips, exhaling through puffed cheeks. The weight of the moment suddenly hit-- Namtan is in my shower. In my clothes. In my room.

Trying not to spiral, she turned and started picking up a few stray papers from her desk. An unfinished sketch. A sticky note with a to-do list. A class handout from two weeks ago that had somehow migrated to the floor. She shuffled them all into a tidy pile, even though she didn't really know what to do with them.

She refilled her scented oil diffuser, then fussed with the placement of her guitar. Then realigned a pillow. Film was fully aware she was just finding things to do so she wouldn't combust from nerves.

Still, despite her flustered state, there was something grounding about hearing the soft sound of water running, the presence of Namtan just a few feet away, like a quiet thread connecting them through the walls.

Film took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and allowed a tiny smile to creep onto her lips as she realized that indeed, her life has a new kind of normal.

- 🐥See you on the next chapter 🐼-

A/N: A warning for the next chapter, it could be a little explicit so you can skip it if you want.

Chapter Text

🎵

🔞 Warning: This contains sexual content 🔞

Namtan, now fresh out the shower and wrapped in the soft comfort of borrowed clothes, stepped lightly around Film’s cozy studio. The sound of running water behind the bathroom door was a steady, calming hush, blending with the distant murmur of rainfall beyond the glass.

Drawn by the scent of wet earth, she wandered toward the small balcony. Sliding the door open just enough to slip through, she was greeted by the crisp dusk air and the subtle welcome of Film’s potted succulents, plump with raindrops.

She leaned against the railing, breathing in the petrichor-laced breeze. The sky was an ever-deepening gray, like a thick blanket slowly being drawn across the horizon.

Down below, the world moved on in slow motion. Umbrella-carrying silhouettes scurried along the walkways, some skipping over puddles, others simply surrendering to the downpour. A lone stray cat sat beneath the shelter of a nearby bench, diligently licking its wet fur clean, unfazed by the chaos around it.

Namtan padded back inside, her bare feet making soft sounds against the floor. The warmth of Film’s room welcomed her again, contrasting the chill she’d left on the balcony. She reached for the towel draped nearby and sat at the edge of the bed, rubbing it gently through the ends of her hair.

Film’s laptop sat open on the low table, the mini projector hummed steadily. A weather report played on Film’s wall, the meteorologist gestured at a map dotted with dark blue storm clouds.

***Heavy rainfall is expected to persist throughout the evening and into the night, flash flooding in low-lying areas remains a concern. Commuters are advised to stay indoors unless absolutely necessary***

This rain can pour all night, she thought, I wouldn’t mind.

--

Back in the shower, Film had just finished but realized something had gone terribly wrong. Out of routine (that nobody else is usually home aside from herself) and her nervousness earlier, she forgot to bring her fresh set of clothes.

She stood frozen, droplets still clinging to her skin as she stared down at her towel-wrapped self. With eyes closed and eyebrows all scrunched up, she mutters curses to herself silently.

“You have got to be kidding me.” she whispered, pressing her palms to her right temple, visibly stressed.

Film groaned into her hands, pacing a slow circle in the small space. She couldn’t, WOULDN’T ask Namtan to fetch her underwear and clothes. The mere thought made her break into a whole new kind of sweat.

"She’d tease me forever,” Film muttered. “I’d never hear the end of it. Never."

Her mind spun through possibilities.

Option A: Die of embarrassment. Not ideal.

Option B: Wrap this towel tight like a mission-critical operation and sprint.

She braced herself against the door, plotting it like a heist.

Okay. Three seconds out. Clothes are by the other end of the bed. Grab them. Abort eye contact. Retreat.

“Yes. Easy. Like a spy,” she whispered to herself, inhaling deeply.

And then, with one hand clutching the towel in a death grip, she counted down:

“Three… two… one”

The door creaked open. Film peeked out like a criminal on the run, eyes scanning the room. Namtan was still seated on the bed, towel over her shoulders, absentmindedly watching the news while drying her hair.

Film made her move. She bolted out like a spy escaping enemy lines, towel cinched at her chest, feet pattering on the floor.

“Clothes, clothes, clothes,” she whispered under her breath

"Film?" Namtan chirps.

Nope, disregard, pay no attention Film chants inside her head like a mantra. But in her panic, her toe caught the edge of the rug.

THUD.

"AH—!"

She fell face-first onto the carpet, the towel holding on by a thread of sheer will and anxiety. Namtan whipped around, jaw dropping, eyes going comically wide.

“Film?! What—are you okay?!”

Film scrambled up, towel miraculously still intact but slightly askew. “I’m fine, I’m fine!” she squeaked, clutching the fabric tighter and desperately trying to salvage dignity. “I just… I forgot my clothes and--DON’T LOOK!”

Namtan had thrown a hand over her eyes. “I’m not looking! I swear! Okay maybe I peeked but only because you screamed!”

Film finally grabbed her clothes and was about to flee back to the bathroom when suddenly they heard a whirring sound from the outside and in following second, the lights turned out, the soft hum of the AC died, the laptop screen blinked off, and the news anchor’s voice disappeared mid-sentence, swallowed by the quiet thrum of rain outside.

The power outage caught them both by surprise but with this comes an unexpected calm as the blue hour settled over the city. Soft, quiet, and impossibly tender. 

Rain tapped gently on windows, every surface looked soaked in blue: deep cobalt in the shadows, soft indigo where the sky peeked through the rainclouds, and a dusky periwinkle on the wet concrete.

Namtan sat still on the edge of the bed, the cold towel now only half-effective against the heat building under her skin. Not from the humidity, but from the sight just a few feet away.

Film stood near the mirror, the pale gray light from outside casting her in a moody silhouette. Her towel clung to her in all the right ways, depending on the heart palpitations Namtan was trying very hard to ignore.

Her skin was flushed, her damp hair curling against her neck, and the way her bare shoulders caught the light. Namtan's pulse had not known peace since the blackout. "I didn't mean to scare you earlier, I'm sorry. It's not like I'm going to take advantage of you or anything." she says, feeling dejected.

She glanced away, trying to rein in the nervous tremble in her fingers.

“I mean,” Namtan continued quickly, “If I’m making you uncomfortable by being here… like this… I’ll go. I’ll order you hot noodles and I’ll be on my way, it’s no big deal.”

Her voice cracked a little on that last part. She hated how small she sounded. She hated that the air between them felt heavier now. But more than anything, she hated the idea that Film might think she was that kind of person. A maniac of some sort.

For a moment, the only sound was the steady tap of rain and the faint jingling of the windchime on the balcony.

Film felt a pang in her heart, hearing those words, she didn’t mean for the other girl to feel undesirable. She stared at Namtan’s reflection on the mirror, who was now a soft silhouette on the bed.

Then Film spoke, soft, barely above the hum of the wind.

“…You’re not making me uncomfortable.”

Namtan looked up, curious.

“You’re making me nervous,” Film admitted, blushing furiously. “That’s different.”

Namtan rose slowly from the edge of the bed. Her bare feet met the cool floor as she took one careful step, then another. She wasn’t even fully aware of it, how her body moved with quiet gravity, drawn toward the girl standing still by the mirror, wrapped in a towel.

“Nervous how?” Her voice was softer now, lower, more dangerous.

Film’s eyes flicked up to meet hers, then dropped again, helpless under the weight of her own confession. “Good,” she said, breath shaky. “Very good. The kind that makes my stomach feel like it’s flipping over and over.”

Namtan stopped just a foot away from her, now bathed in the ghostly gray-blue light that filtered through the window.

She wanted to touch her.

The air between them felt thick, the kind of feeling you only get right before something changes forever. Slowly, almost like she was asking permission in silence, Namtan reached out and placed her hand gently on Film’s bare shoulder. Her thumb traced a delicate line down to the top of her arm, her touch was featherlight.

Film shivered. Not from the cold, but from the touch. From the intimacy. Her lips parted slightly, but she couldn’t bring herself to speak.

“I should go…” Namtan whisper against her will, gathering all the courage she could muster just so she could stop herself. If Film wasn’t ready, she wouldn’t impose. Namtan had already retracted her hand when suddenly, Film’s arm rose up and held it in place.

“Stay…here with me” she says, eyes locked on Namtan’s own, filled with something powerful and unnamed. Was it lust? Longing? Or maybe even both?

“You’re so warm,” Namtan whispered, more to herself than to Film. “Even after the rain.” She let her hand linger, her palm cupping the side of Film’s arm now, thumb brushing up and down. It was calming and seductive all at the same time.

Film’s breathing had grown shallow, chest rising and falling in slow, hypnotic waves. Her eyes flicked down to where Namtan’s hand rested, then back up to meet hers again.

Namtan smiled gently. “I can stop… if you want me to.”

But Film already knew the answer.

With a tremble of certainty, she reached for Namtan’s hand, leading it to the knot that secured the towel along her chest. She was sure. She wanted to give herself to Namtan. Body, mind and soul, there could be nobody else.

Namtan's lips parted slightly, overcome with emotion, her fingertips tracing the path they had been led to. She swallowed hard, her heart pounding as if it were trying to match the rhythm of a dragon boat’s drumming sequence. She leaned in and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to the side of Film’s neck.

Film exhaled sharply, her eyes fluttering closed. That kiss ignited a slow-burning fire beneath her skin. She felt a warm electric jolt deep in her sex.

Namtan’s fingers moved delicately, carefully untying the towel. The fabric loosened and dropped silently to the floor.

Film stood bare before her.

Namtan raised her eyes to meet Film’s again. “You’re breathtaking,” she whispered and wrapped her other arm around Film’s waist, pulling the woman towards her even more. Then, she continued to pepper Film’s neck with kisses that traveled up to the girl’s earlobe where she bit gently. 

Her hand that was once caressing the shoulder had moved its way and claimed it’s rightful place, cupping one of Film’s petite breasts, squeezing it ever so gently and rolling a thumb around the now perky nipple.

A soft sigh escaped Film’s lips as goosebumps rose like a tide across her skin, following the trail of Namtan’s fingers which are now both busy as she kept fondling Film’s breast, squeezing it until the flesh of her breasts bulge in between the space of her fingers while the other hand roamed dangerously lower, to where Film’s very core was patiently waiting, already moist in anticipation. 

She slid her finger along the slick folds until she found the bundle of nerves, already engorged, Namtan rubbed it in slow circles.

Film threw her head back in bliss as her legs opened a little bit wider by instinct, giving Namtan’s hand ample space to move around.

“Phi..Namtan...” Film moans and exhales her name, almost breathless. Her hand went up to cradle the side of Namtan’s face.

“Film, you’re so beautiful…” Namtan whispers on her ear. Film looks at the mirror and sees Namtan staring at her reverently, she sees where Namtan’s hands were and what they were doing, it turned her on even more.

The way Namtan’s hands were big enough to cover the whole size of her breasts when she squeezes them, the way her nipples instantly react to her touch. Her flushed cheeks now had a deeper rosy hue as Film watched herself being touched down there by Namtan’s skillful hands which glisten in the dark with her very essence as those fingers flick her clit.

Is this what it feels like to be touched by someone who truly sees you? She wondered, but she wasn’t just being touched; she was being worshipped.

Film stood still, her breath catching in her throat as she watched Namtan’s reflection behind her. She held Namtan’s wrist, a signal to stop.

But then, slowly, Film turned.

Her lips found Namtan’s as they closed the gap between them in a passionate kiss, she slid her tongue along the bottom lip before sucking it, the taller girl gasps and Film takes that as an opportunity to slither her tongue in, swirling around Namtan’s own. A hand slipped inside Namtan’s shirt, placing a hand above the waist, fingers grazing along her underboob.

“Mmhmm” Namtan sighs into the kiss, desire growing more fervent as her hands give Film’s ass cheeks a gentle squeeze, pulling the girl in a slow backwards walk towards the bed. The younger girl stumbled on top of the other with their lips still fused and the kisses grew deeper, hungrier.

Namtan held her steady by the waist as Film swung a leg over and straddled her lap. Slowly, she slid two digits inside Film’, she moaned, and her eyes closed until Namtan’s slender fingers are all up inside. Then she started to gyrate back and forth slowly, her tight walls adjusting around the fingers that are inside her.

The older girl’s mouth gently sucked her breast, flicking her tongue against the hardened nipple as the girl on top kept riding. The rhythm and pace speeding by the second as the slick sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room.

They were both sweating now despite the consistent pattering of the rain outside.

Namtan looks up at Film and captures her lips in a deep, passionate kiss. Film cradles Namtan’s face with one hand as the other girl sucks her tongue. Fingernails dig on the back of Namtan’s shoulder as Film rocks back and forth vigorously, she could feel the girl’s walls tightening around her fingers.

“On my mouth, Film…” Namtan orders, voice heavy with lust.

It took a second for Film to understand before she got off from those fingers and repositioned herself, aligning her core with Namtan’s mouth. She held the older girl’s head in place as Namtan’s wet, agile tongue played with her clit.

Her hips rocked to meet the delicious pace with which Namtan eats her out. “Phi…mouth…feels so good”, her eyes rolled back as the older girl sped up and added pressure, building up the blissful ecstasy that she wanted Film to feel over and over again.

Only by her mouth, her hands, her lips and no one else’s will Film surrender to this pleasure.

The flat of Namtan’s tongue steadily rubbed against the sensitive bundle of nerves until she felt Film’s hips jerk involuntarily and her pleasurable moans mixed with the calm jingling of the windchime as her whole body convulsed, surrendering to the tension she didn’t realize she held.

A/N: Too much or do y'all want more? 🫣🫣🫣

- 🐥See you on the next chapter 🐼-

Chapter Text

A/N: Sorry it took me so long to update 🫠, I just got back from Blush Blossom Fan Fest and had to recover physically/emotionally from seeing them live in the flesh 🥲💖 

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The room was quiet now save for the soft hum of rain against the windowpane.

Namtan lay still, Film’s arm draped loosely around her waist, their bodies still bare and legs tangled beneath the blanket. Film’s breath against the back of her neck had lulled her to sleep, or at least into something close to it.

But then there was a shift.

Not big, but it was intentional.

Namtan blinked her eyes open slowly, adjusting to the dim blue haze of the room.

Film’s room felt like a warm haven, especially on rainy days, so comforting that Namtan never wanted to leave. She let out a soft sigh, inching closer to Film, as the windchime delicately echoed through the quiet room.

Film answered by removing her arms around Namtan’s waist and trailing light patterns on her arm instead. Absent-minded, but deliberate.

Then there was a soft, warm press of lips against the nape of her neck.

Namtan stirred slightly, a low breath escaping her lips. Film pressed another kiss, just below the first and then another, trailing down the curve of her spine. Each kiss was unhurried, damp with heat, the sound of it delicately enticing.

Namtan's fingers curled into the bedsheet. Her skin responded immediately. Goosebumps rippling along her arms, a shiver that wasn’t from the cold.

Film’s hand, previously resting against Namtan’s waist, began a slow ascent, curving upward with care, her fingertips grazing across her ribs and along her side-boob and drawing a soft, involuntary gasp from Namtan. Her breath hitched, chest rising to meet the touch as if her body was answering on instinct, no words necessary.

“Film…” Namtan breathed, voice barely audible, more a tremble than a sound.

Film didn’t respond with words, she just continued, one kiss after the other, now at the curve of Namtan’s lower back, both of her hands now cupping the entirety of Namtan’s breasts, fingers playing around and awakening the sturdiness of her nipples.

The tension in the room grew thicker with every breath.

Namtan turned her head slightly as she whispered, voice raw and trembling, “You’re driving me insane.”

Film only smiled against her skin, biting it lightly before returning upwards where her lips teased the shell of Namtan’s ear. “Good.”

Namtan stirred, turning to face Film until their foreheads brushed together. Film took this an opportunity to grab the other girl’s leg, propping it on top of her own hips. There was rain outside, but inside Film, it was all fire and softness as her lips found Namtan’s. The older girl sucked and nibbled on Film’s lower lip before grazing her tongue along the smoothness of it, prompting Film to open her mouth.

Their tongues met in the heat of the moment. Wet, warm and hungry. Film moaned into the kiss before slightly backing away to catch her breath, her hand gripping the other girl’s ass cheeks tightly. Namtan’s eyes fluttered open, half-lidded in lust, wondering why Film had stopped.

“Phi, I want you…” she said but it sounded more like a plea.

Namtan didn’t waste a second and captured the younger girl’s lips once again, mumbling “Take me” in between kisses and moaning into Film’s mouth as she slid her fingers between Namtan’s wet folds, spreading the wetness around Namtan’s clit and tracing it in circles.

Namtan focused on the euphoria she felt while devouring Film’s lips in a hungry kiss. She couldn’t believe this was the same timid Film from earlier. But to her shock, and as if fingering her clit wasn’t enough, Film slowly inserted two of her fingers inside her sex.

She gently bit Film’s lower lip, feeling the slender fingers go all the way up inside her.

Moans filled the hollowed room as Namtan started rocking her hips against the fingers that pumped in and out of her all while Film slowly descended to her chest, her tongue sucking and swirling around her perky nipples.

Film turned her over, so that Namtan lay on her back. She trailed ksses between the valley of her breasts down to her abdomen until finally lowering herself in between Namtan’s thighs where her slicked core welcomed her.

Her fingers curled instinctively into the blanket beneath her as Film moved lower.

The room was still except for the patter of rain and the gentle creak of the bed.

Namtan’s breath hitched the moment the girl’s mouth met her wet sex. Film flicked her tongue steadily against her already sensitive clit.

“Film, that feels so good” she whimpers.

Her body responded before her thoughts could catch up. A subtle arch of her spine, a tilt of her head into the pillow as her hands tangled themselves in a pool of Film’s hair, holding her head in place, as if to encourage her to continue.

Film’s eyes never left Namtan’s face. She kept her mouth busy, while feeling Namtan’s wetness trickle down her wrists. She studied every soft gasp, every flutter of lashes, the way her mouth parted when the pleasure surprised her. She wasn’t just watching; she was getting off from it.

“Yes. Fuck. Keep going…”

Namtan’s legs were already buckling, Film knew she was close to her peak, with two of her fingers, she repeatedly curled and uncurled inside Namtan, hitting her g-spot while the flat of her tongue continued to firmly lap up her clit.

Namtan’s head shot back in bliss, a sob escaped from her parted lips as she reached her climax. Her whole body trembled; her walls tightened around Film’s fingers. Every nerve felt heightened, every inch of her skin hypersensitive under Film’s touch. 

She collapsed gently into the mattress, her limbs boneless, skin flushed, chest rising and falling with spent effort.

Film went up to her and wrapped an arm around Namtan, grounding her in the haze of afterglow. She watched as Namtan unraveled. Beautiful, trembling and vulnerable.

All Film could do was hold her through it to anchor her from the orgasm. She pressed light kisses to her shoulder, her collarbone, her temple.

“I’m here,” she whispered, over and over like a prayer while her soft lips remained against Namtan’s skin, skin she never thought she'd be allowed to touch this way.

She had to blink hard, grounding herself against the sudden rush of emotion. It was hard to believe this wasn’t a dream, that the same Namtan who used to walk past her in school halls, untouchable and radiant, who she once thought she’d only ever admire from a safe distance was here now, wrapped in her arms and entirely hers.

“Are you okay?” Film whispered, hands gently caressing the girl’s arms up and down. Namtan was nuzzling against her neck.

Namtan nodded against her, pressing a small kiss just above Film’s collarbone. “More than okay.”

“…Satisfied?”

“Very much. You rock my world, quite literally” she murmured with a smile.

Film laughed, nose brushing against Namtan’s hair. “Good. That makes two of us.”

Namtan’s voice was already dipping into sleep when she added, “Don’t let me go, okay?”

Film tightened her arms around her. “Never.”

For a suspended moment, everything else fell away. The rain outside, the room, the world.

There was only this moment. 

- 🐥See you on the next chapter 🐼-

A/N: Also, Have you seen in twitter that Namtan brought Film home to a trip to her hometown in Ayutthaya?!?! SOMEONE HOLD ME OR I'M GOING TO COLLAPSE AND DIE ON THE SPOT 😭I made a one-shot out of that one if you're interested to read it, it's this one: NIGHTS IN AYUTTHAYA, I tried to make it as realistic as possible 😘