Win's hands were still shaking when he finally made it to the campus café where he'd agreed to meet Tawan. The emotional confrontation with Ratch had left him feeling raw and exposed, every nerve ending still buzzing with the memory of Ratch's words, his touch, the desperate honesty that had stripped away all pretense between them.
Right now I don't know if I want to kiss you or punch you.
His own words echoed in his head, and Win realized how perfectly they captured the chaos of his feelings. It had only been thirty minutes since he'd fled the library, but he could still feel Ratch's thumb stroking across his knuckles, could still hear that commanding voice dropping to the tone that had always made Win's knees weak.
You're still mine, whether you want to admit it or not.
Win shook his head, trying to dispel the memory as he spotted Tawan at a corner table, checking his phone. Tawan looked up as Win approached, his smile warm and uncomplicated, and Win felt something in his chest ease slightly. Here was safety. Here was simple kindness without devastating history or emotional warfare.
"You look like you need this," Tawan said, standing to go to the counter. "Rough day? What kind of coffee do you want?"
"Something sweet," Win said, settling into the chair across from him. "Sorry I'm late."
"Don't worry about it. I figured orientation stuff could be overwhelming." Tawan's voice was gentle, understanding. "I'll get you an iced Thai coffee. Figured you might need the sugar."
When Tawan returned with their drinks, Win took a grateful sip, surprised by how perfectly Tawan had guessed his preference. "How did you know?"
Tawan's cheeks colored slightly. "You seemed like an iced Thai coffee person when we first met. Sweet but with enough caffeine to handle whatever comes your way."
There was something endearing about Tawan's attention to detail, the way he'd been watching Win closely enough to guess his coffee preference. It was so different from Ratch's intensity, so much safer than the way Ratch seemed to see straight through to his soul and demand everything in return.
"So," Tawan continued, "I thought we could tackle some of the remaining freshman requirements together. I know it's a lot to keep track of, and having someone who knows the system helps."
Win nodded gratefully. "That would be amazing. I still need to get my textbooks, figure out which clubs to join, and I think there's something about sports requirements?"
"Exactly. The bookstore first - we can get that out of the way while they still have everything in stock. Then we can walk through the club fair, and I can show you which extracurriculars actually matter versus which ones are just resume padding. Oh, and sports isn't a requirement, but if you want to try something or just check out the sports clubs, that's great too."
Tawan's easy competence was soothing after the emotional chaos of the morning. Here was someone offering help without agenda, friendship without devastating complications. Win found himself smiling genuinely for the first time all day.
"You don't have to spend your whole day helping me navigate campus life," Win said, though he hoped Tawan wouldn't take the hint and leave.
"I want to," Tawan replied simply. "Besides, it's nice having someone to hang out with who isn't constantly talking about their high school girlfriend or complaining about their parents."
They finished their coffee and headed toward the campus bookstore, Tawan maintaining an easy stream of conversation about professors, class requirements, and campus life. Win found himself actually laughing at Tawan's stories about orientation disasters from last year, feeling lighter than he had since stepping onto campus.
The bookstore was crowded with students clutching printed lists and looking overwhelmed by the sheer volume of required texts. Tawan navigated the chaos with practiced ease, helping Win locate books for his law and business courses while sharing insider tips about which professors actually required the expensive textbooks versus which ones just put them on the syllabus.
"Professor Chen will tell you the international business textbook is mandatory," Tawan said, pulling a thick volume from the shelf, "but honestly, you can get by with the online resources. Save yourself three thousand baht."
Win watched Tawan efficiently gathering his books, impressed by how knowledgeable he was about every aspect of campus life. "How do you know all this?"
"My older brother went here," Tawan explained, loading books into Win's basket. "He passed down all the survival tips. Plus, being a peer mentor means I hear about everything from the upperclassmen."
They were debating the necessity of a particular business ethics textbook when Win felt a familiar prickle at the back of his neck, the sensation of being watched. He looked up to find Ratch standing at the end of their aisle, dark eyes fixed on them with an intensity that made Win's breath catch.
Ratch looked exactly the same as he had in the library, but something in his expression had shifted. The vulnerability from their confrontation was gone, replaced by something harder, more possessive. His gaze moved from Win to Tawan and back again, taking in their easy interaction, the way Tawan stood close enough to point out passages in textbooks, the comfortable way they moved through the space together.
Win's heart started racing, his body responding to Ratch's presence even as his mind screamed at him to stay calm. Beside him, Tawan seemed oblivious to the sudden tension, still explaining the pros and cons of used versus new textbooks.
"Win," Ratch said, his voice carrying easily across the space between them. There was something possessive in the way he said it, like he was interrupting deliberately, reminding Win that he was there, that he was watching.
Tawan looked up, finally noticing Ratch's presence. His expression shifted slightly, taking in Ratch's athletic build, his confident posture, the way he commanded attention just by standing there. "Friend of yours?" Tawan asked quietly.
Win's throat felt tight. "Something like that."
Ratch moved closer, his steps deliberate and measured. When he reached them, he positioned himself slightly between Win and Tawan, a subtle but unmistakable territorial gesture.
"Ratch," he said, extending his hand to Tawan with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "I don't think we've been properly introduced."
"Tawan," Tawan replied, shaking Ratch's hand with polite firmness. "I'm helping Win get oriented to campus life."
"How thoughtful," Ratch said, his tone perfectly pleasant and somehow still menacing. "Win's lucky to have such... dedicated help."
The way he said 'dedicated' made it sound like something vaguely inappropriate, and Win felt heat rise in his cheeks. "Tawan's just being a good peer mentor," Win said quickly, trying to defuse whatever was building between them.
"Of course," Ratch agreed, his gaze never leaving Tawan's face. "Though I'm sure Win could manage the bookstore without a guide. He's more capable than he looks."
There was something possessive in the way Ratch spoke about Win, as if he had intimate knowledge of Win's capabilities, as if he had the right to comment on what Win did or didn't need. Tawan's expression shifted slightly, a flicker of understanding crossing his features.
"Well," Tawan said carefully, "everyone needs help adjusting to a new place. That's what peer mentors are for."
"Is it?" Ratch stepped closer, and Win could smell his familiar cologne, could feel the heat radiating from his body. "And how long does this mentoring usually last? Just wondering when Win might be free to... reconnect with old friends."
The subtext was unmistakable. Ratch was marking his territory, making it clear that Win belonged to someone else, that Tawan was intruding on claimed ground. Win felt trapped between them, caught in a testosterone-laden standoff he had no idea how to navigate.
"As long as Win needs help," Tawan replied evenly, his voice steady despite the obvious challenge. "I'm happy to be available."
Ratch's smile sharpened. "How generous. Though I'd hate for you to waste your time on something that's already being taken care of."
"Taken care of by whom?" Tawan's voice remained polite, but there was steel underneath now.
Win felt the air between them crackle with tension, both men staring at each other over his head like he wasn't even there. Students flowed around them, oblivious to the drama playing out in the textbook aisle, but Win felt like he was standing in the center of a storm.
"By me," Ratch said simply, his voice dropping to that dangerous tone Win knew so well. "Win and I have... history. I'm sure you understand."
Tawan glanced at Win, taking in his pale complexion and obvious distress, then looked back at Ratch with new understanding. "History doesn't always mean present," he said carefully. "Or future."
Ratch's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. "In our case, it means everything."
"Does it?" Tawan turned to Win, his expression gentle but searching. "Win, are you okay with this conversation?"
Win felt both men's attention focus on him, waiting for his response, waiting for him to choose sides in a conflict he'd never asked to be part of. Ratch's dark eyes were intense, demanding, full of the certainty that Win belonged to him whether Win admitted it or not. Tawan's gaze was concerned, supportive, offering Win the choice to set his own boundaries.
"Excuse us for a second, Tawan," Win said, his voice steadier than he felt. "I need to speak with Ratch for a moment. I'll be right back."
Before either man could respond, Win grabbed Ratch's hand and pulled him toward the back of the bookstore, weaving between shelves until they were in a quieter section away from other students. Once they were relatively alone, Win spun around to face Ratch, his eyes blazing with anger.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Win demanded, his voice low but fierce.
Ratch looked almost pleased by Win's reaction, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "I'm talking to you. And your new friend."
"Don't." Win stepped closer, his finger jabbing at Ratch's chest. "Don't you dare play games with me or with him. Tawan is helping me with orientation. He's being kind. That's it."
"Is it?" Ratch caught Win's hand, holding it against his chest. "Because from where I'm standing, it looks like he's pretty interested in being more than helpful."
Win tried to pull his hand away, but Ratch's grip was firm. "Even if he was, that's none of your business. You don't get to stake some claim on me in public like I'm your property."
"Aren't you?" Ratch's voice dropped to that dangerous tone, his eyes dark and intense. "Because an hour ago you couldn't tell me you didn't love me. You couldn't deny that you're still mine."
"That doesn't give you the right to—"
"To what? To care who you're spending your time with? To want to know if you're replacing me with someone safer?" Ratch stepped closer, backing Win against the bookshelf. "Because that's what this is, isn't it? Tawan's safe. He's uncomplicated. He won't challenge you or make you feel things that scare you."
Win's breath hitched at Ratch's proximity, at the way he could still read Win so perfectly despite everything between them. "Maybe safe is what I need right now."
"Maybe," Ratch agreed, his free hand coming up to grip Win's chin, tilting his face up so their eyes met. "But safe isn't what you want. Safe doesn't make your heart race or your hands shake. Safe doesn't make you write love stories at three in the morning because you can't stop thinking about someone."
Before Win could respond, Ratch leaned down and kissed him, soft and gentle at first, waiting to see if Win would pull away. When Win didn't resist, when he felt Win's body relax slightly against him, Ratch deepened the kiss, claiming Win's mouth with the demanding intensity that had always been his signature. His hand tightened on Win's chin, angling his head for better access as he poured weeks of frustration and longing into the connection between them.
"Stop," Win whispered, breaking the kiss but their lips still touching, the heat flowing between them immediate and real.
"I can't," Ratch said simply. "I can't stop wanting you, I can't stop fighting for you, and I sure as hell can't stand watching you try to replace what we have with something that will never come close."
"We don't have anything," Win said desperately. "You made sure of that when you ignored every call, every message—"
"You can keep saying that over and over again, trying to make yourself believe what you're saying," Ratch interrupted, his voice intense. "But we have everything, Win. We have history, we have chemistry, we have love that's so strong it survived weeks of silence and your attempts to bury it in fiction. What do you have with him? Pleasant conversation and coffee recommendations?"
Win felt tears prick at his eyes, overwhelmed by Ratch's words and his own conflicted feelings. "He's good to me. He doesn't make me feel like I'm drowning."
"Because he doesn't make you feel anything," Ratch said, his thumb stroking across Win's cheekbone. "And you deserve more than nothing, Win. You deserve to be wanted, to be chosen, to be loved so completely that it changes you."
"I have to go," Win said, finally finding the strength to pull away from Ratch's touch. "Tawan is waiting."
"Of course he is," Ratch said, but he didn't try to stop Win from moving past him. "Run back to your safe choice, Win. But we both know it won't work. We both know you'll never feel for him what you feel for me."
Win paused at the end of the aisle, his hand gripping the shelf for support. "Maybe not," he said quietly. "But at least with him, I won't feel like I'm breaking apart."
He walked back to where Tawan was waiting, his face carefully composed despite the storm raging inside him. Tawan looked up as he approached, concern clear in his expression.
"Everything okay?" Tawan asked gently.
Win forced a smile. "Fine. Just had to clear something up. Should we get out of here?"
Tawan nodded, though his eyes remained worried. They quickly paid for Win's books and left the store, Tawan maintaining gentle conversation as they walked toward the club fair. But Win could feel Ratch's presence behind them, could sense him following at a distance, and every step felt weighted with the memory of his words.
You deserve to be loved so completely that it changes you.
The problem was, Win was beginning to realize that Ratch had already changed him, had already loved him that completely. And no amount of safety or kindness from Tawan could erase that truth.
As they explored the club fair, Tawan continued to be the perfect companion - knowledgeable, funny, supportive. He made Win laugh, helped him navigate the overwhelming options, offered genuine friendship without agenda or demand. Everything about Tawan was exactly what Win thought he wanted.
But throughout the afternoon, Win found himself scanning the crowd for familiar dark hair, found his pulse jumping every time he heard a deep voice or caught a glimpse of someone tall and athletic in his peripheral vision. Even when he was enjoying Tawan's company, part of him remained hyperaware of Ratch's presence somewhere nearby, watching, waiting.
"You keep looking around," Tawan observed as they sat by the fountain, surrounded by their successful day's haul. "He really got under your skin, didn't he?"
Win sighed, finally acknowledging what he'd been trying to ignore. "He has this way of making everything feel... intense. Like every conversation is life or death."
"That sounds exhausting," Tawan said sympathetically.
"It is," Win agreed. "But it's also..." He trailed off, unable to finish the thought.
"Also what?" Tawan prompted gently.
Win looked at his new friend - kind, patient, uncomplicated Tawan - and felt a rush of guilt for what he was about to admit. "Also the most alive I've ever felt."
Tawan was quiet for a moment, processing this confession. "You're in love with him," he said finally. It wasn't a question.
Win felt tears threaten again. "I don't want to be."
"But you are." Tawan's voice was understanding rather than hurt. "And he's in love with you too."
"It doesn't matter," Win said desperately. "Love isn't enough. We hurt each other, we bring out the worst in each other—"
"Do you?" Tawan interrupted. "Because from what I saw today, he brings out your fight. He makes you passionate, makes you stand up for yourself. With me, you're pleasant and grateful. With him, you're... real."
Win stared at Tawan, shocked by his perceptiveness. "I don't want to hurt you."
"You're not hurting me," Tawan said gently. "I like you, Win. I think we could be good friends. But I'm not going to compete with someone who owns your heart, even if you wish he didn't."
"I should probably head home," Win said eventually, feeling emotionally drained by the day's revelations.
"Yeah," Tawan agreed, standing and shouldering his backpack. "But Win? Whatever you decide, make sure it's what you actually want, not what you think you should want. Sometimes the thing that scares us most is exactly what we need."
As they parted ways, Win felt the weight of Tawan's words settling over him. He'd spent the day trying to convince himself that safety and kindness were enough, that he could build something meaningful with someone who didn't challenge him or make him feel like he was standing on the edge of a cliff.
But Ratch was right - safe wasn't what he wanted. And Tawan was right too - Ratch brought out his fight, made him feel real and alive and completely himself.
His phone buzzed as he reached his apartment building, and Win's heart jumped. But it wasn't a message from Ratch. It was from Tawan: Thanks for a great day. You're a good friend, Win. Follow your heart.
Win smiled despite everything, grateful for Tawan's understanding and grace. But as he climbed the stairs to his apartment, he couldn't stop thinking about Ratch's words in the bookstore: We have love that's so strong it survived weeks of silence and your attempts to bury it in fiction.
Tomorrow he would have to decide what to do with that love - embrace it or keep running from it. But tonight, Win finally admitted to himself what he'd been trying to deny: Ratch was right about everything, and that terrified him more than anything else in the world.