Jinn leaned against the railing, his arms crossed loosely over his chest, his gaze steady as it rested on Keng.
"You really hurt him, you know."
The words weren't loud, but they didn't need to be. They landed exactly where they were meant to.
Keng didn't look up. His fingers tightened slightly where they rested on the table, his jaw clenching as if bracing against something he already knew was coming.
"Yeah… I know," he said quietly.
There was no denial. No excuses. Just acceptance.
"I never meant to," he added after a pause, his voice softer now, almost weighed down by everything he hadn't been able to say.
"I just—"
He stopped, exhaling slowly as if the words were stuck somewhere deep in his chest.
"I hope he gives me a chance to explain."
Tao let out a short, unimpressed scoff from where he stood.
"A chance?" he repeated, raising a brow.
"Right now, he's doing everything possible to avoid you."
The bluntness stung, but Keng didn't argue. Because it was true.
"So what exactly is your plan?" Tao continued, tilting his head slightly.
"Because pretending you don't exist seems to be his current strategy."
Keng remained silent. Because he didn't have an answer.
Before the silence could stretch too long, Bank stepped in, his tone calmer.
"We can help you plan something," he offered.
"At least… something that gets him to listen."
Keng finally looked up. He met Bank's gaze for a second before shaking his head slightly.
"No thanks," he said flatly.
"Your ideas s*ck."
Bank blinked, then raised both hands in surrender.
"Wow. Okay. Noted," he said dryly. "Suit yourself."
"I'll figure something out on my own," Keng added, though there was a faint hesitation beneath his words. Because the truth was— he didn't know what to do. Every option felt wrong. Every step felt like it could push Ping further away. And that was the one thing he couldn't risk.
"Oh," Tao suddenly said, his eyes shifting past them as if something had caught his attention.
"That's Ping."
Everything in Keng stilled.
Then— his heart jumped.
He pushed his chair back so quickly it scraped loudly against the floor, the sound sharp enough to turn a few heads nearby.
He was already on his feet, eyes searching instinctively, desperately scanning the space.
"Where? Where is he?"
"Just kidding," Tao added with a grin. "Relax."
Keng froze.
Slowly—very slowly—he turned his head back toward Tao. The look in his eyes was dark enough to make anyone else take a step back.
"You're dead," Keng muttered.
Tao burst into laughter, completely unfazed.
But Keng had already turned away, his hands clenched tightly at his sides as he walked off. Even jokes weren't harmless anymore. Not when his heart reacted every single time. Not when, for a split second, he believed it was real. Because every time he thought he saw Ping— Hope surged. And regret followed immediately after.
—
Keng knew better than to expect things to go back to how they were.
He knew Ping wouldn't forget. Wouldn't forgive. Not easily. Maybe not at all.
And honestly— he didn't blame him.
So instead of forcing his way back into Ping's life, Keng made a decision.
He would keep his distance.
If he couldn't stand beside him… Then at least— he could watch from afar. At least that way, he could still see him. Even if it was just like this. Even if it hurt. Because it did hurt. More than he was willing to admit. But he swallowed it. Every time. Because reaching out recklessly now might only push Ping further away. And that— that would be worse.
Keng wanted to explain. He wanted to clear everything up—to finally say the things he had been holding in for so long.
Why he left.
Why he disappeared.
Why he couldn't come back.
Why he never stopped thinking about him.
But he already understood something important.
Ping didn't want to see him. Not yet.
And maybe… just maybe… watching from a distance was the only thing Ping would allow him to do.
— So Keng watched.
From across the campus.
From quiet corners.
From places where he wouldn't be noticed.
And every time— his eyes found Ping. Too easily. Like they had never forgotten how.
Right now, Ping was laughing. The sound didn't reach Keng from where he stood, but he could see it clearly in the way Ping's shoulders moved slightly, in the way his eyes crinkled at the corners.
It was light.
Unforced.
Real.
And for a moment— Keng just stood there, staring. Because he had missed that. Missed it more than he realized.
But then— his gaze shifted slightly.
Beside Ping stood someone else.
A guy Keng didn't recognize.
They were close. Too close.
Something sharp twisted painfully in Keng's chest. Jealousy crept in quietly, unwelcome—but impossible to ignore. His jaw tightened.
"Who is that?"
The question came instantly. And right after— another one.
"When did he start smiling like that…"
"with someone else?"
Keng's fingers curled slightly into his palms.
That smile— He used to think it was his. Not in a possessive way.
Just… something special. Something shared. Something that existed between them.
But now— Ping was giving it to someone else. And Keng had no right to question it. No right to feel anything about it.
Because he was the one who left. He was the one who disappeared. He was the one who came back too late. Still— it hurt. More than it should have. Because it meant something simple, yet painful.
Ping could smile without him now.
Keng swallowed hard, forcing himself to look away. But he couldn't. His eyes drifted back again, almost against his will. He kept watching.
Quietly.
Silently.
As if that alone was enough to keep him grounded.
And then— he noticed something else. Something that made his chest tighten in a completely different way.
Ping had changed.
Not just physically— though he had grown, his features sharper, more defined. But it was more than that. It was in the way he stood. The way he carried himself. There was a quiet confidence in him now. A steadiness. A kind of independence that hadn't been there before.
The Ping Keng remembered— was softer. Quieter. Someone who leaned on him without even realizing it. Someone who found comfort just by having him nearby.
But this Ping— didn't seem to need that anymore. Didn't seem to need him.
Keng felt something twist deep in his chest.
Not jealousy this time.
Something heavier. Something harder to name.
He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry.
Time hadn't waited for him. It had moved forward. Relentlessly.
And Ping— Ping had moved with it. He had grown. Changed. Become someone stronger. Someone who no longer looked like he was waiting for anyone.
Especially not him. Keng's gaze lingered for just a moment longer before finally dropping. His hands clenched slowly at his sides.
"…Of course," he murmured under his breath.
What else did he expect?
He had left.
And life didn't stop just because he wasn't there anymore.
Still— Knowing that didn't make it hurt any less. Because no matter how much Ping had changed… No matter how much distance had grown between them… Keng's feelings hadn't changed at all. Not even a little. And that— that was the hardest part.
Because while Ping had learned to live without him— Keng was still standing in the past. Watching from afar. Hoping for something— He wasn't even sure he deserved anymore.