A heavy silence lingers between the two of you as your nose is buried deep in the pages of a thick, ancient chemistry book, while Phainon sits on the opposite side of the table, casually munching on the snacks he brought: dried sagelore fruits and chocolate.

You’ve been reading for hours now, and your focus keeps slipping. You catch yourself reading the same phrases five times without actually understanding a word.

A quiet yawn escapes your throat, breaking the stillness.

“Tired?” Phainon asks, lifting his eyes from his book, looking just as exhausted as you feel. He leans against the palm of one hand and flips a page with the other.

“I could use a break,” you groan, reaching for one of the dried sagelore fruits. They’re supposed to make you smarter, but you feel quite the opposite right now. You stretch your arms across the table like a cat.

He watches you with a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. “We can do something else.”

“Does it involve you being shirtless?” you ask jokingly. Lately, Phainon has shown up shirtless on more than a few occasions—almost like he’s doing it on purpose. Not that you actually mind seeing the sculpted planes of muscle.

Phainon suddenly chokes on a piece of chocolate. “W-what?”

“Nothing,” you muse, flashing him a grin. His whole face is rapidly turning pink, and you can see the redness reach all the way to his collarbones.

He tries to recover with a desperate throat-clear, but the evidence of his embarrassment lingers on his cheeks. “D-Do you think about me shirtless often, then?” he asks with a half-chuckle.

There’s a beat of silence while you think of the best way to reply.

“Well, only when you’re going around without a shirt. Which is like… every other day.”

He looks around, gaze dropping. Suddenly, he seems a little shy — a side you haven’t really seen before.

“Maybe I was hoping you’d notice,” he mumbles.

You arch a brow, puzzled, and snatch a piece of chocolate like you're afraid they might all melt away.

“Why?”

He chuckles, still clearly flustered by the situation you’ve put him in. He scratches the back of his neck before fumbling out,

“I didn’t mean to fall for you…”

His shining blue eyes find yours, earnest and open.

“I just tripped into it… slowly.”

The silence falls between the two of you like a heavy curtain, and with every beat of your heart it stretches longer, thicker. Your throat feels dry, your breath caught halfway up, and your heart makes an undignified spin as heat crawls across your skin.

You’re half expecting him to laugh and say it was a joke—obviously—but he doesn’t. He just looks at you like a hopeful puppy, waiting for something. Anything.

“…That was insanely cheesy,” you finally manage, heart flipping wildly in your chest.

He chuckles, awkward and adorable—though no longer quite as flustered as before. “You think? I’d been kind of saving that one. It definitely sounded better in my head.”

You squint at him, fighting a smile. “I’d say you’ve practiced it a few times.”

He nods slowly, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. “Once or twice,” he says—then, when your brow arches knowingly, he caves. “Okay. Maybe ten.”

A beat of silence—and then laughter bursts out of you, bright and bubbling, like a shaken bottle finally uncorked. You try to hold it in, but it’s no use.

“Aaaand you laughed—so I win,” he says, absolutely smug.

You let out a long exhale, trying to reel yourself back in from the brink of madness. Clearly, studying has melted your brain. But then—warmth. His hand gently finds yours, still stretched across the table toward the chocolates.

“So,” he says, voice softer now, “would you like to go out after we finish this paper?”

The warmth travels from your hand to your chest and blooms there like sunlight. “Only if you promise to trip and fall for me a little harder.”

You’ve never seen him smile quite like this—wide and glowing, full of something bright and maybe a little breathless. It makes you feel breathless.