The beginning —————
The lecture hall smelled faintly of chalk and damp paper, a scent that seemed mundane to everyone else but to Ohm, it carried the weight of inevitability. He hadn't expected Nanon to be here today—or maybe he had, and that thought alone made his chest tighten in ways he refused to name.
There he was, reclining at the back, the kind of careless posture that screamed arrogance, the kind of smile that could unsettle anyone with a spine. Nanon's eyes caught his immediately, a flash of mischievous recognition sparking between them.
"I hate him," Ohm murmured, though his pulse betrayed a truth he wasn't ready to admit. The word felt bitter on his tongue, yet it rang hollow, because there was something… compelling about Nanon that he couldn't shake.
Nanon's smirk widened, the effortless grace of his charm almost painful.
"Already glaring? I haven't even done anything yet," he said, voice low and teasing, though it carried a sharpened edge that made Ohm's hands twitch.
Childhood memories clawed at Ohm's thoughts—sandbox battles, stolen lunches, whispered embarrassments in front of teachers. Years of rivalry, woven tight like barbed wire, now stood between them, invisible to anyone else.
"Some things never change," he thought. "The world made him charming, but the charm is poison to me."
Nanon, leaning back, recalled the same memories from his side: Ohm's rigid frowns, the carefully measured way he would argue every point, the perfect foiling of Nanon's chaos. They had grown together, yet against each other. Or maybe they had grown in spite of each other.
Then the professor's voice cut through the tension.
"You'll be paired for the next assignment. Ohm… Nanon… together."
The words landed like a strike of lightning.
"Oh, great," Ohm muttered, his tone flat, but beneath it, something like dread flickered.
"You sound thrilled," Nanon replied, smirk curling sharper. "Can't hide it, oh broody one."
Ohm's jaw tightened. Why does he have to do that? Every glance from Nanon was a challenge, a provocation, and Ohm knew—he would rise to it, whether he wanted to or not.
They approached their assigned table, shoulders brushing in a way that sent a subtle shock up Ohm's spine. Neither spoke at first, both caught in the gravity of their shared past. And yet, each breath seemed louder than necessary, each glance heavier than it should be.
"Fine," Ohm said finally, voice low. "Let's get this over with."
Nanon's grin softened—not quite warm, but dangerous in its restraint. "Oh, this is going to be fun. I hope you're ready to lose gracefully."
"Lose?" Ohm thought, gripping his pen. I don't lose. Not to him. Not now, not ever.
The first hour was a battlefield of intellect and sarcasm. They argued over the simplest points: topic, format, order of research. Every rebuttal, every correction, every smirk felt like a spark tossed onto a tinderbox.
Yet beneath the clashing words, something else simmered—attention, curiosity, the undeniable pull of recognition. Every time their fingers brushed reaching for the same notebook, the electricity hummed silently between them.
Ohm felt it first, a jolt that made his chest constrict and his thoughts scatter. Why does that feel… good?
Nanon noticed too. His chest warmed in a way that confused him. He's infuriating. Always has been. But why can't I stop noticing him?
Hours passed, marked by banter, teasing, and reluctant cooperation. The sun dipped low, casting golden streaks through the windows, illuminating Nanon's face in a way that made Ohm's pulse betray him again.
"You're quiet," Nanon said suddenly, eyes twinkling. "Lost in all that brooding?"
"Oh, stop," Ohm muttered, heat rising to his cheeks. "You're infuriating."
"Am I?" Nanon's voice was soft now, teasing but not cruel. "Or are you just… distracted?"
Ohm froze, aware of the flutter in his chest that had nothing to do with anger. Distracted. By him? Impossible.
The bell rang, startling them both. They packed up silently, the tension lingering like smoke between them. Outside, rain fell, gentle at first, then insistent.
They dashed for the nearest shelter, a small umbrella barely large enough for two. Shoulders brushed, accidental closeness forcing awareness. Nanon laughed softly, nervously, as if he too was aware of the fragile intimacy.
"I hate this," Ohm muttered to the sky above, rain dripping into his hair. Being just friends might be impossible.
"And I hate that I like it," Nanon thought, leaning slightly closer. Hate that I care.
The rain masked their breaths, the thunder outside echoing the storm they refused to name. And in that moment, enemies and friends, rivals and something more, collided in silence.
For the first time, they were caught not just by circumstance, but by the undeniable pull between them. And neither knew what to do with it.