Chapter 43

Sky Wongravee

Two weeks have passed, and the semester's winding down. The campus feels different now—quieter in some ways, with students distracted by the impending end of the year and the thoughts of summer break already swirling in their heads. There are only a few days left before everyone scatters, some heading home, others traveling, and a few, like Nani, preparing to leave for something much bigger. It's hard to ignore the weight of it all, the quiet sense of finality hanging in the air. Nani's scholarship, his future abroad, is real now. The details are all in place, and soon, he'll be off to another country, a new chapter of his life beginning while the rest of us stay behind.

For the past few days, I've watched him throw himself into his work with a single-minded determination. Late nights spent in the library, hunched over textbooks and projects, trying to perfect every detail before he leaves. It's like he's trying to hold onto something—some sense of control, maybe—or perhaps he's just trying to distract himself from everything else. But I can see the way his exhaustion is starting to catch up with him. There's this quiet tension about him that I can't quite ignore.

I know that Nani is avoiding deeper conversations with me. It's not that he's actively shutting me out, but it's like he's keeping himself busy with anything and everything just so he doesn't have to face whatever's brewing between us. I don't blame him for it. Things between us were... complicated. We had crossed a line that we can't uncross anymore, and I don't know how to get back to where we were before. Maybe we can't go back at all. There's this gap between us now, a space I can't seem to bridge. It wasn't there before—the easy camaraderie, the casual conversations, the way everything just flowed without effort. Now, everything feels more strained, like we're both too aware of how much has shifted.

Despite that, I can't help but feel this small, stubborn part of me wanting to fix whatever's broken between us. I want things to feel simple again, to be able to talk to him the way we used to, to joke around without that knot of tension twisting in my chest. But I don't know how to start. I don't even know if Nani would want that. I'm not sure what he needs from me anymore.

I glance across the room, where Nani is sitting, head down, his focus entirely on the pages in front of him. His pen moves across his notes in smooth, practiced strokes, the faint sound of it scratching against the paper the only noise breaking the stillness. He's so absorbed in his work, it's like nothing else exists. But then, for a brief moment, he looks up, his eyes meeting mine from across the room. Time seems to slow, the noise around us fading, and for a second, it's just the two of us, suspended in that quiet moment.

Then, as if he's been waiting for permission, Nani's lips curl into that familiar, shy smile. It's soft, almost apologetic, but there's something genuine about it, a warmth that cuts through the space between us. For a moment, I forget about all the tension, all the unspoken words between us. I just smile back, not sure what comes next but knowing that whatever it is, we'll figure it out together.

I push myself away from the doorframe I hadn't even realized I was leaning against and walk over to his desk, the sound of my footsteps soft on the floor. There's something heavy in my chest, a conversation I've been meaning to have with him. I've been holding back for too long, unsure of how to start, but I know I can't keep waiting for the perfect moment.

"You're really burying yourself in this, huh?" I say, my voice light, but I can hear the edge of concern in it.

Nani shrugs, his smile never fading completely. He runs a hand through his hair, the usual nervous gesture he does when he's trying to distract himself. "Yeah. I just want to make sure everything's perfect before I leave. No time for mistakes."

I nod, leaning against the desk, my eyes tracing the lines of his face. He's got that familiar look of determination, like he's trying to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders, but in reality, I can see how exhausted he is. "It's a big step for you. I get it," I say, my tone softening.

He glances up at me then, his eyes a little softer than usual, more vulnerable. "I don't want to mess it up. I want to be ready." His words are quieter now, like he's admitting something to me, something more personal than the usual bravado he puts on.

"You'll be ready," I tell him with quiet confidence, my gaze holding his. The distance between us feels smaller now, the gap less daunting, even if it's still there. "But don't forget to take a break, Nani. You can't do everything alone."

He meets my gaze again, and the soft smile returns, a little more genuine this time. "I know. I just don't want to waste any time."

His words echo in my mind for a second, and I look at him, wondering if he even realizes how much he's changed. I think back to when we first met—how he used to be more carefree, how we used to joke around without a care in the world. Now, it feels like he's carrying a weight, and it's like he doesn't know how to put it down.

I take a deep breath, my heart feeling a little heavy. I wish I could make things easier for him, but I don't have all the answers. I don't even know if there's a way to fix everything. But at least we're still talking. At least we're still here.

"You're not wasting any time, Nani," I say, my voice soft but firm. My words hang in the air between us, and for a moment, everything feels still. "You're doing exactly what you need to do."

The space between us is quiet for a moment, and I almost wish there was more to say. More I could do. More clarity I could offer. But sometimes, words don't fix everything, and maybe, for now, this is enough. We've come this far, and whatever comes next, we'll face it together.

Nani goes back to his work, his attention returning to his notes, but this time, there's something different in the air. The weight that was there before has shifted. I stay by his side, leaning against the desk, watching him with a sense of peace. I can't change everything, but this? This feels like a quiet understanding.