The next morning, I was still nestled under my blankets, caught between the last threads of a dream and the soft glow of early sunlight filtering through my curtains. Suddenly, I felt a gentle shake on my shoulder, followed by a familiar, warm voice.
"Wake up, sleepyhead," Fah's voice chimed, soft yet insistent. "We're going out for breakfast together."
Groggily, I blinked my eyes open, half-awake and squinting up at her. She was leaning over me with an amused smile, her face framed by the morning light, looking as fresh as ever. It took a moment for my brain to catch up, but once it did, a rush of happiness washed over me. It had been so long since she'd woken me up like this, with that playful spark in her eyes and that hint of mischief in her voice. Memories of past mornings together flooded back—her gentle nudges, her soft laughter as she teased me awake, and our spontaneous breakfast adventures.
"Breakfast?" I mumbled, still trying to shake off the last remnants of sleep. "Since when did we plan that?"
Fah grinned, ruffling my messy hair. "Since now. Come on, lazybones! Get ready, or I'll leave without you."
The excitement in her voice stirred me fully awake, and I couldn't resist her invitation. I quickly threw on a jacket and ran a brush through my hair, not wanting to waste another second.
As I finished a quick run-through with my hairbrush, I glanced at the mirror, feeling satisfied enough. I didn't want to take up too much time with it—I knew P'Fah was already waiting, and I didn't want her to get hungry because of me. But just as I was about to leave, I felt her gentle hands on my shoulders, guiding me to sit back down in front of the mirror.
"Hold on," she said, a soft smile playing on her lips as she picked up the brush I'd left on the dresser. "You rushed through it, didn't you? It's still a little messy."
She shook her head, amused, and started brushing my hair slowly, her movements careful and precise. I sat quietly, feeling the soft, rhythmic tug of the brush as she ran it through my hair. It was a simple act, but there was something incredibly soothing about it, her gentle touch smoothing out each tangle, her focus fully on me.
"Remember when I used to do this for you before school?" she asked, a hint of nostalgia in her voice. "You'd always rush, and I'd have to chase you down to make sure your hair wasn't all over the place."
I laughed sheepishly, shrugging. "I just didn't want to keep you waiting."
We found a small café tucked away on a quiet street, its windows fogged up from the warmth inside. The smell of freshly brewed coffee and warm pastries wafted out, wrapping us in an inviting embrace. Fah chose a table by the window, and as we sat down, I couldn't help but steal glances at her, feeling like I was rediscovering her all over again.
As we ate, we slipped into conversation about everything and nothing, laughter bubbling up from some hidden place we hadn't visited in a long time. Every time she spoke, her eyes would light up in that way that made everything else seem to melt away. I couldn't stop smiling, savoring every second, every laugh, every little gesture.
It felt like we'd stepped back in time, to the days when spontaneous breakfasts and shared mornings were just part of our rhythm, a simple joy we took for granted. And sitting there with her, I realized how much I'd missed this—missed her, missed us, the closeness that had been buried under the busyness of life.
At one point, she reached across the table and passed me the bacon, "You know, this was my favorite thing to do with you," she said softly, her smile tinged with nostalgia. "Just sitting, talking, having breakfast with no rush, no plans… just us."
I nodded, feeling a warmth spread through my chest. "Mine too," I admitted, my voice barely more than a whisper. And as I looked across the table at her, a quiet happiness settled over me, as if somehow, we had found our way back to each other, one breakfast at a time.
As we were finishing up the last bites of our breakfast, P'Fah's phone buzzed on the table, interrupting the comfortable quiet we'd settled into. She glanced at the screen and sighed softly before answering, her voice warm as she spoke, "Hey, Daniel."
I could only hear her side of the conversation, but it quickly became clear that Daniel was calling to invite her out to breakfast, completely unaware that she was already with me. I kept my eyes on my plate, feeling an unexpected twist of frustration. We'd just started reconnecting, and I was hoping for more uninterrupted time together, just the two of us.
"Actually, I'm already having breakfast with Kwan," she said, smiling at me in reassurance. "But… you're on your way here?"
She paused, listening, and nodded. "Alright, we'll see you soon." With that, she ended the call and set her phone down, looking at me with a soft, slightly apologetic smile. "He wanted to pick me up, but I told him I'm here with you."
I forced a smile, trying to mask the twinge of disappointment. "Oh, that's… nice of him. I just thought…" I trailed off, not wanting to sound too selfish or possessive, even though I was already feeling a pang at the thought of him taking her away. We hadn't had this kind of time together in ages, and the morning had felt so perfect, as if it was carved out just for us.
P'Fah seemed to sense my reluctance. She reached across the table, squeezing my hand gently. "Hey," she said softly. "This is our time, okay? No one's taking that away. He just wanted to say hi."
I nodded, feeling a bit silly for overreacting but still wishing it could just be us. She seemed to read my thoughts and offered a small, understanding smile. "I'll tell him to give us some space."
Just as we were settling back into the comfortable quiet, Daniel arrived at the café. He strode in with his usual easy confidence, flashing us a bright smile as he walked over to our table. He greeted me warmly, "Hey, Kwan," but I only managed a quick, polite nod before looking away, unable to muster any enthusiasm for his sudden appearance.
The mood I'd shared with P'Fah, that cozy sense of intimacy, felt like it was slipping away. Daniel pulled up a chair, joining us uninvited, and I found myself holding my breath, hoping he'd have somewhere else to be soon. But he seemed to have other ideas, casually chatting with P'Fah as though he'd planned on spending the day with her all along.
"I could drop you both off wherever you're headed," he offered with a friendly grin. I noticed the way his eyes lingered on her, filled with the same warmth that had once belonged to our moments together. A flicker of frustration ran through me.
P'Fah shook her head gently, giving him a small but firm smile. "Thanks, Daniel, but we already have plans," she said, her tone polite but clear. I relaxed a little at her response, grateful she hadn't accepted his offer. She looked over at me with a playful gleam in her eyes. "Kwan and I are going somewhere special—just like old times."
Daniel raised an eyebrow, amused. "Alright, I'll let you two have your fun, then," he said, giving a half-laugh. But I could tell he wasn't entirely pleased as he excused himself, leaving us to our plans.
Once he left, P'Fah turned to me, her excitement evident as she leaned forward. "Ready?"
I nodded, feeling a sense of relief. We'd managed to reclaim the day, and it was ours once again. We were going to the funfair—the same one we used to visit as kids, our own secret escape from the world. It had been years since we'd been there, and I couldn't help but wonder if it had changed, or if the magic was still there, waiting for us.
On the drive over, memories flooded back. I remembered the smell of caramel and popcorn filling the air, the twinkling lights, and how we'd race from one game booth to the next, laughing until our cheeks hurt. The thought that it was still there, unchanged, felt like a gift. A chance to go back in time, just for a day, to the days when things were simple, when it was only the two of us, sharing secrets and laughter under the glow of carnival lights.
As we wandered through the lively, colorful funfair, we found ourselves strolling past the familiar row of side stalls. My eyes widened when we passed one in particular—a small booth filled with plush toys, blinking lights, and a carnival worker calling out for customers. I couldn't believe it was still here after all these years. It was the same stall we'd played at five years ago, and seeing it brought a rush of memories.
I stole a glance at P'Fah, who was gazing at the booth with a small, nostalgic smile. I remembered how she'd stubbornly tried over and over that day to win a particular plush toy—a soft, round teddy bear with a ribbon around its neck—but she kept falling short. By the end, she was so frustrated she nearly gave up, and we'd laughed all the way home about it. The memory felt like a precious secret we'd tucked away, one I hadn't realized how much I missed.
Before she could move on, I reached out and grabbed her hand, pulling her back toward the stall. She looked at me, surprised.
"Let's play this one," I said, a spark of determination in my voice. "And this time, I'm going to win it for you."
P'Fah's eyebrows lifted, her eyes dancing with amusement. "Oh, really? You think you can do what I couldn't?" she teased, folding her arms and watching me with a grin.
I smirked, feeling a wave of confidence. "Watch me," I replied, fishing a few coins from my pocket and handing them to the stall operator.
The game was simple enough, but winning required skill. I concentrated hard, tuning out the bustling sounds around us. The first attempt missed, and P'Fah let out a light chuckle, crossing her arms with a raised brow.
"Still confident?" she teased.
"Oh, absolutely," I said, determined not to let her down. I tried again, my focus sharper, my heart pounding as I aimed for the target. After a couple more tries, I felt a thrill run through me as I heard the satisfying ding of a win.
The stall worker smiled, handing me the same plush teddy bear P'Fah had wanted all those years ago, as if it had been waiting just for her. I turned to her, a triumphant grin spreading across my face as I held it out to her.
"See? Told you I'd get it this time," I said proudly.
She laughed, a soft, happy sound that made my heart skip a beat. "Well, I guess I underestimated you," she admitted, her eyes bright as she accepted the teddy bear. She hugged it close, looking down at it like it was something precious, and then glanced back up at me with that warm smile.
"Thank you, Kwan," she said, her voice softer, filled with a quiet gratitude that made me feel as if I'd given her more than just a toy.
After securing her prize at the plush toy stall, we wandered deeper into the fairgrounds, weaving through the buzzing crowd and stopping occasionally at different booths. P'Fah's eyes sparkled with excitement, her mood lifted, and I was content just watching her take it all in, her smile lighting up each corner we turned.
Then, unexpectedly, she stopped and pointed to a ride in the distance. "Let's go on the roller coaster!" she said, her tone full of enthusiasm.
I blinked at her, taken aback. "The… roller coaster?" I echoed, trying to keep my voice steady. "Are you sure?"
P'Fah looked at me and nodded, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. "Absolutely. I know, I know—I hated it before. Last time, I ended up feeling so sick I swore I'd never get on one again," she admitted, shaking her head at the memory. The last time she'd tried it, she'd gotten such terrible motion sickness that it put her off the ride for years. "But," she continued, "I've been thinking about it lately, and I think I want to try again."
I couldn't quite hide my hesitation. I'd never been a fan of roller coasters myself—the height, the speed, the twists, and especially that stomach-flipping drop terrified me. Just looking at the ride in the distance, with its metal loops glinting under the lights and the faint sound of screams as people whirled through the air, sent a shiver down my spine.
"Are you sure you want to?" I asked, trying to sound casual.
She nudged my arm. "Come on, Kwan, where's your sense of adventure? We've done so many things together—don't tell me you're going to let a roller coaster scare you off?"
Her words struck a chord, and despite my nerves, I couldn't say no. I wanted this time with her, to make memories that would last. If she was willing to face her old fear, maybe I could too. I took a deep breath, trying to psych myself up. "Alright, let's do it. But… if we did it, you will need to reward me something." I said, half-joking, half- praying I'd be able to get through it.
P'Fah laughed, nodding in agreement. "Deal."
We made our way to the roller coaster, the line moving quickly, and before I knew it, we were strapping ourselves in, sitting side-by-side with the safety bars pressing down on our laps. My heart was pounding wildly, but when I looked over at P'Fah, she was grinning, holding onto the bar with an expression that was a mixture of thrill and nervousness.
As the ride jerked forward, slowly climbing the steep track, I reached over and took her hand, squeezing it for reassurance—maybe as much for her as for myself. She squeezed back, offering a small smile that made me feel just a little braver.
When we reached the top, hovering for that breathless second before the drop, she leaned in, her voice a barely-there whisper that somehow cut through the noise. "Thank you for doing this with me."
And then we were falling, twisting, and soaring through the air, our laughter and screams blending as the world spun around us. It was terrifying, thrilling, and oddly freeing, a rush of adrenaline and joy that I'd never expected to feel.
When the ride finally slowed, I was breathless, my head spinning, but when I looked over at P'Fah, I saw her smiling wide, her cheeks flushed with excitement. She looked at me, her eyes shining. "See? We survived."
I chuckled, still catching my breath. "We survived, but I think I deserve something for that," I replied, trying to sound casual as I brushed off the lingering queasiness.
Her eyebrow arched in amusement, clearly intrigued. "Oh? And what exactly do you think you deserve?"
I took a breath, trying to gather some confidence. "Well… since I conquered my fear—for you, might I add—I think I deserve a wish. Something I can ask you for, and you have to say yes. No backing out."
She laughed, the sound warm and familiar. "Oh, so now we're playing that game?" she teased, crossing her arms with a playful grin. "Alright, Kwan. You survived a roller coaster with me, so a wish is only fair. But be warned—I don't grant just any wish. So make it a good one."
My heart raced at the thought, a million ideas flickering through my mind. I could ask for something small, something simple that I'd been wanting to do with her for ages. Or… I could ask for something bolder, something that would show her just how much I'd been keeping inside, the feelings I'd buried each time she looked at me with that warm gaze, each time she laughed like she was doing now.
I glanced down, thinking it over, then looked up at her, my nerves bubbling to the surface. "Alright," I said, a smile tugging at my lips. "I'll save it for the perfect moment, then. When it really counts."
P'Fah raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. "You're not going to ask for it now?" she asked, her voice soft, almost as if she'd been expecting something big.
"Nope," I replied, shaking my head, savoring the way the anticipation lit her face. "But don't worry—you'll know it when I do."
She laughed, shaking her head, but I could tell she was intrigued, and that was enough for now. The idea of a promise yet to be fulfilled lingered between us, and as we continued walking through the fairgrounds, I couldn't help but feel like we'd crossed some invisible threshold, one that made the air around us feel charged with possibilities.
As we strolled back home after getting off the BTS, the city lights flickering around us, I found myself wanting to know something I'd never dared to ask before. It came out almost without thinking. "P'Fah," I began, glancing over at her, "what kind of person… do you like? Or, you know, find attractive?"
I wasn't even sure why I asked. The question hung in the air between us, uncomfortably intimate, yet I couldn't take it back. Something inside me had been wanting to know, an itch in my mind that wouldn't settle. What kind of person would draw her attention? And deep down, I worried, wondered if she'd say Daniel, if maybe he was the kind of person she'd choose. Just imagining her saying his name made my chest feel tight, like the ground might slip out from under me.
She stopped and turned to me, a smile curving at the edge of her lips. "Why the sudden curiosity?" she asked, her tone light, but her gaze keen, like she was seeing right through me.
"Oh, I don't know," I stammered, trying to brush it off. "Just curious, I guess." My voice felt weaker than I'd intended, and I could tell she sensed my underlying nervousness. It was the truth, though—curiosity was one part of it. But more than that, I wanted some sort of sign, some tiny hint that there might be a place in her heart where I belonged.
She tilted her head, a thoughtful look passing over her face, and then, after a long pause, she said, "I think… I'm drawn to someone with a beautiful smile, the kind that's genuine and honest. It's like… when they smile, it feels like everything else fades away, even if just for a moment."
I nodded slowly, feeling my heart pound at her words. My mind raced, replaying every smile I'd ever shared with her, every laugh we'd exchanged. I wanted to believe,
for a moment, that maybe I could be that person with the smile she described, the one that stayed with her, even in fleeting moments.
But part of me hesitated, the worry creeping back. Could Daniel be the one she was describing, with his easy charm and confident grin? Would she eventually turn her gaze to him, finding everything she needed in him?
"Anyone in particular?" I tried to ask it lightly, yet I could hear the shakiness in my voice.
P'Fah's gaze softened as she looked at me, her smile lingering with something unspoken, almost tender. "Someone who smiles like you," she said, her voice low yet steady. "Every time I see your smile, it brings me peace. I don't know… it's like, no matter what's going on around me, everything feels right for a moment."
Her words settled over me, warm and unexpected, and my heart skipped at the thought. She wasn't just saying it lightly; there was a depth in her eyes that made me wonder if maybe, just maybe, she saw something in me that went beyond our years of shared memories.
She continued, her gaze steady. "I hope nothing ever takes that smile away from you, Kwan. You have this way of lighting up a room, of making people feel like they're… safe. Loved, even." She paused, a faint blush coloring her cheeks as though she'd said more than she'd planned.
I swallowed, feeling a surge of warmth spread through me. Did she realize how much those words meant to me? How much I had longed to be someone she'd cherish, someone who could bring her that feeling of peace she described? My throat tightened as I tried to think of something to say, something that wouldn't betray the flood of emotions her words had stirred.
"You're the one who makes me smile, P'Fah," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper. "When I'm with you… everything just feels right."
She looked away, a soft smile playing on her lips, and for a moment, we walked in silence, side by side under the city's fading lights. I didn't know what would come of this small, precious exchange, but I knew I wanted to hold onto it forever—this quiet confession, this unspoken promise that maybe, somehow, she saw me as I saw her.