Night fell over the campus, and the lights in the library glowed like a quiet river of stars.
Manida pushed open the heavy wooden door, the cool night breeze brushing against her back. Her glasses caught the warm light, reflecting calm and thoughtfulness.
At the long table, Parin was already waiting—tapping her fingers against a page, her impatience barely hidden. But the moment she saw Manida, her expression melted into a knowing smile.
"You always arrive at the perfect moment," she said softly, her voice tinged with affection.
Manida set her coat over the chair, replying with quiet amusement,
"Otherwise, you'd accuse me of neglecting you."
Parin reached out; their fingers met and intertwined naturally. For a moment, the world went still, and only the soft rhythm of their breathing filled the space between them.
"Have you been overworking again?" Parin asked, her tone gentle, touched with concern.
Manida smiled, her thumb brushing over Parin's palm.
"Maybe. But when I see you, I forget everything else."
Parin didn't answer. She leaned closer, her gaze tender enough to make Manida's heartbeat quicken. Their lips met in a slow, deliberate kiss—soft but certain, like a silent promise.
When they parted, Parin rested her forehead against hers, smiling faintly.
"You make me feel like I'm still dreaming."
Manida brushed a strand of hair from her cheek, her voice low and sure.
"If this is a dream, then I never want to wake up."
For a while, time itself seemed to pause.
Outside, the wind whispered against the glass, carrying with it the faint chill of the unknown. But for now, they ignored it—because the warmth of this moment was all that mattered.