Chapter 3. Territorial instinct

The school cafeteria at lunchtime resembled a disturbed beehive. But even in this chaos, Wat maintained his icy aura. He calmly carried a tray with a salad, his eyes searching for a familiar tuft of tousled hair.

He found him. But he didn’t like what he saw.

Lunch Break: A Spark of Jealousy

Sun and Kinn were sitting at a far table. Kinn was telling something animatedly, gesturing wildly, when he suddenly leaned forward and playfully flicked Sun’s nose. Sun burst into laughter, nearly dropping his fork, and gave Kinn a playful shove on the shoulder.

Wat stopped in his tracks. His fingers tightened around the edges of the tray.

"Wat! Come sit with us!" Sun noticed him and waved his hand.

Wat approached and sat opposite them without saying a word. His gaze, cold and sharp as a scalpel, lingered for a moment on Kinn’s hand, which was still resting on the back of Sun’s chair.

"Hey, Wiwat," Kinn smiled his "sly" smile. "We were just discussing how Sun would look great in a white vet coat. Right?"

"He’ll look great in anything if he finally learns his Latin," Wat snapped, not even looking at Kinn. He shifted his gaze to Sun. "Are you finished eating? We don't have much time."

"But I haven't finished my juice yet..." Sun began, but he met Wat’s eyes and instantly fell silent.

"I’ll be waiting for you by the exit in five minutes. We need to discuss this evening’s study session."

As Wat walked away, Kinn leaned toward Sun and whispered:

"Did you see that? He just incinerated me in his mind for touching your nose. Sun, that’s not 'neighborly concern,' that’s territorial instinct."

Evening fell over Bangkok, bringing a long-awaited coolness. In Wat’s room, the air conditioner hummed, creating the perfect environment for studying. Two laptops, stacks of papers, and a large plate of fruit brought by Wat’s mother sat on the desk.

Sun was sitting on the floor, leaning his back against Wat’s bed, absentmindedly flipping through a biology textbook. Wat sat in his chair, focused on macroeconomics, but his attention was scattered.

"Wat..." Sun called out softly. "You’ve been... prickly all day. Even more than usual. Is it because of Kinn?"

Wat put down his pen. The only sound in the room was the quiet hum of electronics.

"Your friend talks too much, Sun. And he takes too many liberties."

"He’s just fun!" Sun turned around, kneeling so he could see Wat’s face. "He helps me not go crazy from all these bones and muscles I have to memorize."

Wat slowly leaned toward him. The distance between them closed to a critical point. Sun caught the faint scent of Wat’s cologne—cedar and sandalwood.

"I can help you too," Wat’s voice became low, almost velvety. "You don’t need Kinn to study. In fact, you don't need anyone except..."

Wat suddenly cut himself off, realizing he had almost said too much. Sun held his breath. His heart was pounding so hard he felt Wat could surely hear it.

"Except whom?" Sun whispered.

Wat pulled back, putting his mask of restraint back on.

"Except a good tutor. Give me your textbook. I’ll check how well you’ve learned the respiratory system of mammals."

Sun exhaled, feeling a mix of relief and a strange disappointment. He handed over the book, but as Wat took it, their fingers brushed. Wat didn't pull his hand away immediately. He held it a second longer than politeness required.

"Дякую, Ват..." (Thank you, Wat) Sun whispered in Ukrainian.

"Будь ласка," (You're welcome) Wat replied in the same language.

Sun’s eyes widened in surprise.

"You... you learned that word?"

"I have a good memory for important things," Wat murmured, diving back into the textbook to hide a faint, triumphant smile.

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