Untitled

*Theo*

Back in the present, I hugged the pillow closer and smiled at her as if nothing had happened.

She looked at me with confusion written all over her face. Those beautiful, big round eyes and that smile—God, that smile. It still catches me the same way it did eight years ago.

I love teasing her.

Mostly because it's the only language she seems to understand when it comes to me.

The memory of how we met still feels fresh.

I first saw her on my first day at my new school. We were in ninth grade.

I had just stepped onto the school bus when I heard her giggling with her friend. I remember being completely stunned by that smile. Later, when I found out she was in my class, I was ridiculously excited.

She probably didn't even notice me during the first week.

Luckily for me, our teacher decided that I should sit with one of the toppers for a project.

That topper was Lara.

"Hello! Are you lost?" she asked one day, catching me staring into space.

"N-no. I was just thinking about how to make your ideas better."

"Well, I think we should get some help from the internet and borrow a few books from the library."

I laughed.

"Tell me honestly, Lara. Do you have a crush on the librarian? Why do you keep going there?"

"Yes, I do have a crush," she replied.

My heart nearly stopped.

"On books, idiot. Not the librarian."

I rolled my eyes.

"Why are you even doing this course? You should've studied literature."

"Because of you, idiot."

I frowned.

"My mother only agreed to send me this far because she thinks I'm safe with you."

Then she pointed at me.

"Doesn't she know I hate you the most?"

I laughed.

But secretly, I wished she'd replace the word hate with something completely opposite.

A loud thunder interrupted us.

It was already eight o'clock, and the rain outside showed no signs of stopping.

"We should get some dinner and discuss the project properly," I said.

"You're right. Should we cook something or go out?"

"Whatever you want, Princess."

She stared at me.

"Princess?"

"Yes. Because eventually everything has to happen according to your wishes."

To my disappointment, she looked rather pleased.

"That's true," she said proudly. "Let's go to my favourite place. Cheap food and full stomachs."

A few minutes later, we were at the restaurant.

She grabbed my hand and pulled me through the crowded entrance before I could say anything.

And just like that, every sensible thought left my mind.

God, I loved being around her.

"Here's the menu," she said.

I glanced at it for barely a second before putting it down.

"You're not even reading it."

"No need."

"Why?"

I smiled.

"Because I already know what I'm having."

"What?"

"Whatever you're ordering."

She groaned dramatically while I watched her argue with the waiter about prices and portion sizes.

Why?

Well... it's actually a sweet story.

Flashback (4 years earlier)

"Aachoo!"

I sneezed loudly in the library while searching for my precious copy of Handbook of Interior Designing.

Theo rolled his eyes. "I told you to close the taxi window. And now I'm stuck helping you find this ridiculous book instead of being on my beautiful date."

"Oh, please," I scoffed. "I didn't ask you to come. And we both know you were looking for an excuse to ditch that date anyway."

Before I could continue, a sharp ache ran through my body.

Theo's expression changed instantly. His cool hand landed on my forehead.

"Clara, you have a fever."

His voice had lost all its teasing.

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not. I'll get the book later. We're leaving."

He grabbed my wrist and started pulling me outside. Annoyingly, even after years of friendship, that tiny touch still sent electricity through me.

Outside, rain was pouring from the sky.

Theo held the umbrella completely over me while he got drenched himself.

"Theo, move closer," I complained. "You're getting soaked because of me."

"Don't worry about it."

"I am worrying about it. You'll catch a cold."

He simply ignored me and adjusted the umbrella higher over my head.

Sometimes caring was Theo's favorite way of being stubborn.

A moment later, he pulled a full-sleeved shirt from his bag and draped it over my shoulders. Some of my wet hair got trapped underneath. As he carefully freed the strands, his thumb brushed against my neck.

My fever suddenly wasn't the only reason I felt warm.

---

Back at my apartment, I was half-asleep when a text from my roommate, Luna, popped up.

"Might be late. Got to kill this role tomorrow."

Theo was still sitting beside my bed.

"Stop looking at your phone and sleep."

I blinked. "Wait... you're still here? I thought you'd left."

"I brought soup. Someone has to keep you alive."

I smiled despite myself.

Then he started looking around my room.

"Lara, why don't you own tissues?"

At home, everyone calls me Lara.

"I forgot to buy them."

"How do you forget tissues?"

"They weren't on sale yet."

Theo stared at me as if I'd just confessed to a crime.

"You wait for tissues to go on sale?"

I shrugged.

Twenty minutes later, tissues were delivered to my apartment.

"Here. Clean your nose."

"You're unbelievably annoying."

"And you're unbelievably helpless."

The fever medicine kicked in before I could come up with a comeback.

The next thing I remember was waking up the following morning.

Theo never mentioned staying over.

He never mentioned the soup.

And he definitely never mentioned helping me when I was asleep.

But the overflowing dustbin beside my bed, filled with crumpled tissues, told me everything I needed to know.

And that, dear readers, is how Theo Hart became my Cough Syrup...

Hey, I’m back from home. Let’s hang out.

He said it casually. Too casually for someone who had disappeared for two weeks and somehow still expected me to show up the second he asked.

Still, I replied instantly.

Yes. Be there in 10.

And like an idiot, I smiled at my phone.

Excited to see his dark, perfectly messy hair, his annoyingly expressive eyes, and the prettiest smile ever created, I practically ran out of the house.

Theo Hart.

My ambivalent for the last eight years.

I hated him more than I hated capsicum, and that was saying something. I was also completely sure he hated me too.

Ironically, I hated being away from him even more.

For eight years, he had irritated me endlessly. For eight years, he had also stayed.

Even on days when I yelled at him to leave me alone. Even on days when I made it difficult to care about me.

My phone buzzed again.

Cough Syrup

Come fast. Why do you always waste my time?

I rolled my eyes instantly.

Typical Theo. Calls me at the last moment but expects me to teleport to him.

Yes, coming.

By the time I reached his apartment building, rain had already started pouring heavily.

“Theo!” I yelled while banging on the door. “Open the door, it’s raining outside!”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming,” he shouted from inside. “And don’t get wet this time. I don’t have many tissues left.”

I glared the second he opened the door.

“Shut up.”

He smirked, stepping aside to let me in.

“So,” I said, taking off my damp jacket, “why exactly did you call me? We literally never hang out.”

“Obviously, Clara Brooks.”

There it was.

My full name.

He used it whenever he wanted to annoy me because apparently my name sounded like I should be organizing ancient books in a haunted library somewhere.

“Don’t say my full name like that,” I complained.

“Like what?”

“Like you’re introducing a nineteenth-century novelist.”

He looked down at me with that irritatingly calm expression.

“Well,” he shrugged, “you do dress like you write letters with ink pens and cry near windows dramatically.”

“I do not cry near windows.”

“Right,” he nodded seriously. “Only near tissues.”

I threw the nearest cushion at him immediately.

He caught it easily, laughing under his breath.

And there it was again.

That stupid feeling.

The one that made my chest warm despite every logical reason not to like him.

Theo noticed me staring for half a second too long.

“What?” he asked.

“Nothing.”

“Creepy.”

“Your face is creepy, Cough Syrup.”