9 (let go)

(Monday)

North POV

“North, did something happen?” Easter asked cautiously, tilting his head, eyes narrowing as if he were trying to read the fine print on

“No,” I replied, my voice flat as I scribbled notes across my notebook. We were sitting on the campus grounds under the shade of an old tree.

“You never make notes, baby witch,” Phoon said, his tone almost concerned now.

“I just realized I need a good GPA to score a decent job. You guys might want to start making notes too,” I muttered, voice detached, eyes fixed on the page.

Truth was, I was exhausted—too tired to hold a proper conversation. My words tasted like chalk in my mouth, dry and bitter.

Dao, Phoon, and Easter stared at me like I had sprouted horns. No one said anything else, as if sensing the gloomy storm brewing inside me.

I kept writing, even though the lines blurred every now and then. Their chatter faded into white noise, a distant hum, while my sole focus anchored on the letters taking shape on the page. My lips pressed into a thin line.

Semester break starts after this week.

The thought weighed heavily. I’d already decided—I’d go back to my parents’ house. At least they wouldn’t look at me like I was too much. At least they’d smile, hold my hand, and take me on cute little dates, even if it was just for a grocery run. They wouldn’t tire of my cringey, idiotic, overly sensitive self.

“North!” Easter’s voice rang out startling me.

I looked up, blinking rapidly, pen still in my hand. His face had softened, concern etched into his features.

“Baby witch, let’s go,” he said gently, like coaxing a stray cat.

I stared at him before forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach my eyes.

“Umm, you guys go. I’ll come later—I have some work,” I said quickly, avoiding their gazes.

They exchanged glances, whispers passing between them before they finally left. I could feel their curiosity burning holes in my back, but I didn’t care. I needed space.

Time blurred. Minutes, maybe an hour, slipped by while I sat frozen, knees locked, legs numb. When I finally tried to stand, a groan escaped my throat as pins and needles pricked through my calves.

The campus had emptied out. A strange calm lingered in the air, like the world had taken a deep breath and forgotten to exhale.

I gathered my scattered things, shoving papers into my bag carelessly. Slinging the strap over my shoulder, I headed toward the exit.

The weather was beautiful in that bittersweet way—a soft gloom, the sky heavy with unspoken rain. The earthy scent of wet soil clung to the air, cool and comforting against my lungs.

I walked without direction, mind blank, letting the hum of cicadas and the crunch of gravel under my shoes fill the silence.

By the time I reached the campus gate, my feet faltered. My breath caught.

“Phi…” The word slipped out before I could stop it.

He was standing there leaning against his car. His posture was rigid, his jaw set, but his eyes… his eyes looked like a storm. Panic mingled with something fiercer, sharper, barely restrained.

“Little brat,” he said, voice low, and started toward me with long, purposeful strides.

My pulse stuttered.

“Why weren’t you replying to my texts and calls?” His voice was clipped, almost shaking as his gaze scoured my face.

I looked away, pretending to find the cracks in the pavement fascinating.

“North.” His tone hardened, like the sound of steel tightening.

“I told you, Phi. I was with my parents, I had so much fun I forgot to check my phone ,” I said finally, my words flat, rehearsed.

Silence filled the space.

I bit my lips hard before taking in a deep breath and started walking past him, ignoring the weight of his presence, but his hand shot out, fingers curling around my arm with startling precision.

“Where are you going?” he asked, voice tight.

“Dorm,” I replied simply, not meeting his eyes.

“No. You’re coming with me—to our house.” His tone left no room for argument.

I stiffened at his word before yanking my arm free, the sudden movement startled him. His eyes widened for a fraction of a second, raw panic flashing through before it disappeared behind that familiar mask.

“I have to make projects, Phi. I’ll disturb you.” My voice trembled, though I fought to keep it even.

“What are you talking about? You’ll never distu—”

“No,” I cut him off, sharper this time.

“I will disturb you and your work. It’s late. I need to go back to my dorm.” I forced a nod, each syllable punching out like a verdict. “I’ll see you later, Phi.”

I took one step.

Two.

Then he moved.

In a blink, he was in front of me, blocking my path, his body a wall I couldn’t sidestep.

I stared at his shoes, refusing to lift my gaze. The weight of his presence pressed against me, suffocating and familiar all at once.

Warm palms cupped my face, tilting it upward. His hands were trembling.

“You’re angry with phi, right?” His voice cracked, almost pleading.

“Phi is sorry. I never meant to break our promise.”

My eyes stayed downcast, lids heavy, lashes wet.

“We can go now,” he rushed on, desperation spilling into every word. “Our cute little date—you planned it, right? Tell me where. Or better—let’s go everywhere. Every single place you wrote down.” His voice faltered, like he was running out of air.

Something in me shattered. My throat burned as my vision blurred.

“Teerak…” The endearment slipped from his lips like a prayer, and that was it. The tears came, hot and unrelenting.

His breath hitched audibly. I felt his body stiffen, panic rippling off him in waves.

I finally met his eyes, those stormy depths reflecting every crack in my soul. Then, slowly, I pried his hands away from my cheeks.

“Go back, Phi,” I whispered, voice breaking on the edges of a sob. “I have projects to complete.”

I turned away before he could see me fall apart completely.