"Uh..?" Fah's mind was a whirlwind of confusion. "I love you too, as a friend," she managed to say, her voice barely holding on in the charged silence. The words felt awkward and out of place.
As Fah spoke, an unforeseen moment unfolded before her. She caught a flicker in Nara's eyes—a fleeting shadow of disappointment, perhaps even a hint of pain, like a cloud passing over the sun. The intensity of the moment left Fah questioning her own perception, wondering if her eyes had deceived her. Did she really witness it?
"Oh, I see," Nara's voice came, soft but distant.
"Another 'I see'?" Fah thought, frustration building in her chest. "Why do you respond so coldly? Here I am, pouring my heart out to you, and you just say 'I see'?"
It felt like a slap in the face—the coolness in Nara's voice, the indifference. Fah couldn't hold it back anymore.
"What does 'I see' even mean?" Fah burst out, her voice shaking as the tears finally spilled from her eyes. "What do you even mean by love?" She wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand, but the tears kept falling, blurring her vision.
The words poured out like a flood of emotions she'd kept bottled up for far too long.
"Ugh, what's the use?" Fah thought with frustration.
"I should just go." She stood abruptly, her hands trembling. The weight of everything—the confusion, the emotions, the silence—had become too much. She wanted to leave, to escape the suffocating feeling swirling inside her, to run away from it all. She didn't even know what "it" was anymore.
But before she could move, a sudden warmth enveloped her. Thump.
Nara pulled her into an embrace, tight and comforting. For a moment, Fah froze, unsure what to do. The sudden gesture caught her off guard, her heart skipping a beat.
"I'm sorry," Fah whispered through her tears. "I shouldn't have exploded like that." Her voice trembled, each word heavier than the last. She wiped her eyes, but the tears wouldn't stop.
"It's unfair to you," she added, her chest tightening, a wave of guilt rushing through her again. Why was she pushing Nara away?
"No," Nara murmured softly, her voice thick with emotion. "I should be the one apologising."
Fah pulled back slightly, blinking at her. Her mind raced. Why did it sound like Nara was crying too? Fah didn't know what to say, didn't know if she should speak at all. She felt a sudden wave of compassion, but also confusion. Why was Nara reacting like this?
"I should have known you had all these feelings bottled up inside of you," Nara continued, her voice soft but resolute. "Since I was young, I've been taught never to show my emotions. I was told that others could use them against me, so I built walls around myself. Now, I find it hard to properly express what I feel."
Fah's heart twisted as she listened to Nara's words. She had always thought Nara was so composed, so calm. But now, hearing the pain and vulnerability in her voice, Fah realised just how much she had misunderstood.
"But for you," Nara added, her words quieter now, "I'll try. I'll try to be more open."
Fah felt like the world had shifted under her feet. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words got stuck in her throat. What could she say to this? Nara was opening up in a way that felt so intimate, so raw, that Fah couldn't bring herself to break the moment. Maybe it was better to stay quiet for now.
Nara continued, her voice barely above a whisper. "My parents... they're going through a divorce. And I have to decide who I want to live with. To avoid embarrassing them, I had to move out of my previous school."
Fah's breath caught. She had no idea. Nara had always been so composed, so put-together. It never even occurred to Fah that there was so much going on behind that calm exterior.
"I know I haven't been forthcoming about this part of myself," Nara went on, her voice a little steadier now, though still full of emotion. "I've kept it hidden from everyone. But from tonight onwards, I'll do my best to share this part of myself with you and answer any questions you have."
Fah stood there, frozen in Nara's embrace, her heart aching with the weight of everything Nara had just revealed. The walls around Nara were coming down, piece by piece, and Fah didn't know how to process it all.
The silence between them hung heavy, but it wasn't uncomfortable. It felt like the first step toward something new—something that Fah couldn't yet define but knew was changing her, changing both of them.
-A Few Days Later-
It had been a few days since Nara had said the words that rattled Fah's world:
"I love you."
Those words had haunted her thoughts, keeping her awake long into the night. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Nara's face—soft, warm, intense.
What did it mean?
What was Nara expecting from her?
Fah had tried to push the thought away, focusing on schoolwork and distracting herself with her friends, but it was always there, lingering at the edges of her consciousness.
Tonight, however, she couldn't run anymore. She had to face it.
And face Nara.
-In the Dorm Courtyard-
Fah paced nervously in the courtyard just outside Nara's dorm, the evening air cool against her skin. The sky was beginning to darken, a wash of purple and orange stretching across the horizon. The familiar surroundings of the campus felt like they were closing in on her.
It had been three days since their conversation, and Fah hadn't seen Nara since. It wasn't like she was avoiding her—she just needed space to think, time to figure out what to say, to process everything.
Fah couldn't shake the feeling that she was on the edge of something. Something big. She could feel it, like the tension before a storm. Everything was building up. And she didn't know how much longer she could hold it all in.
Fah glanced at her phone one last time. The message from Nara was still open on the screen:
[Nara: I'll be in my room if you want to talk.]
No pressure. No demands. Just an invitation.
Fah typed a response, her fingers hovering over the keys, before she deleted it. She wasn't ready. She couldn't express it yet.
Suddenly, the door opened, and there was Nara, standing before her again, calm as always, waiting. No questions. No judgments.
"You came," Nara said, her voice quiet and soft, but there was an unmistakable warmth there.
Fah nodded, feeling her heart race. She opened her mouth to say something, but the words wouldn't come. Instead, she stepped inside, feeling the weight of the moment settle on her shoulders.
The door closed behind her with a soft click, and suddenly, they were both alone in the space where everything between them felt like it was about to change.
Nara watched her silently for a long moment before speaking again. "You don't have to say anything if you're not ready. I'm not going anywhere, Fah."
Fah swallowed. She didn't know where to start.
"I've been... thinking about what you said," Fah said slowly, her voice trembling despite her attempts to steady it. "And, I just—" She paused, looking at Nara's calm expression, the way she always seemed to have everything in control. "I don't know what I'm feeling. It's like..."
Fah exhaled, frustrated with herself for being unable to articulate what was going on in her head.
"I'm confused, Nara."
"I know," Nara replied softly, her gaze never leaving Fah's face. "It's okay to be confused."
Fah shook her head. "But it's not okay. I can't just keep pretending everything is fine, especially not with you. You've been so open, so... patient with me, and I've been holding myself back. I don't know if I'm afraid of what I'm feeling, or if I'm just not ready to face it."
Nara's expression softened, and she took a step closer. "It's alright, Fah. You don't have to figure it out right now. But I do want you to know, I'm not going anywhere. I care about you, Fah. More than you know."
The words were simple, yet they landed in Fah's chest like a heavy weight. She wanted to say something in return, to make sense of the confusion swirling inside of her, but the only thing that came out was the truth:
"I care about you too."
Her voice was barely above a whisper.
Nara nodded, her eyes searching Fah's face. There was something unspoken there—an understanding, something deeper than just friendship.
"I just need to know," Fah murmured, looking down at her hands. "What do you think of Ton? Of Phat? I need to know what you feel about them. Because I don't know what I feel. I feel pulled in so many directions, and I'm terrified of what that means."
Nara stepped forward, her voice soft but firm. "I think you care about them both in different ways, Fah. And I think that's okay."
Fah felt her chest tighten. "But what about you? What about us?" she asked, her voice cracking.
Nara took another step closer, her hand gently brushing against Fah's. "I think we both know the answer to that question already."
Fah looked up at Nara, her heart in her throat. "What does that mean?"
Nara smiled, a slow, knowing smile that made Fah's heart flutter. She took Fah's hand in hers and held it gently. "It means that I care about you, Fah. More than just a friend. More than just a classmate. And I think... I think you feel the same."
The words hung in the air, heavy and real.
Fah's mind raced. Was this really happening? Was she really hearing this?
But before she could respond, Nara spoke again, her voice a little more serious.
"I love you, Fah."
The words were simple, but they landed like a bombshell. Fah blinked, her heart stuttering as she processed the confession.
"I love you," Nara repeated, her tone softer now, almost hesitant. "And I don't want to rush you into anything. But I needed you to know how I feel. You don't have to say anything right now. But... I think we both need to be honest with each other."
Fah's breath caught in her throat. "I—" She shook her head, struggling to comprehend everything. "I don't know what to say."
Nara smiled softly, squeezing her hand. "You don't need to say anything, not yet. But I want you to know that no matter what happens, I'm here. Always."
Fah stared at Nara, her heart pounding in her chest. For the first time, the confusion in her mind began to settle. The world didn't seem so complicated anymore. It wasn't perfect, but it was real, and that was enough for now.
She didn't know what the future would hold, but for the first time, she felt like she could breathe again.