The moment the lesson ended, my head felt lighter.

For the last few hours, I'd managed to think about deadlines, assignments and the terrifying amount of work our tutors apparently believed human beings could complete in a single semester.

Anything except Seoul.

Anything except her.

Anything except him.

Keeping my mind busy had always worked.

Temporarily, anyway.

Now that everyone was packing their things, reality was already beginning to creep back in.

“Where do you live?”

I recognised the voice before I looked up.

Of course.

“Student accommodation?”

I shoved the last of my notes into my backpack and found the same guy from that morning standing beside my desk.

He'd spent the entire lesson on the opposite side of the room. I'd noticed.

Not because I'd been looking at him.

Obviously.

“Sorry,” I said, pulling the zip closed. “Your name is...?”

His eyebrows lifted.

A perfect way to avoid answering his question.

He seemed to realise it too.

Still, he followed me out of the classroom.

“I'm Cheng. Liu Cheng.”

He stepped in front of me and walked backwards for a few seconds, smiling as if introducing himself had finally solved some enormous problem.

Liu Cheng.

Great.

Now the irritating stranger had a name.

“And now that you know mine...” His eyes narrowed playfully. “Where do you live?”

Persistent too.

“I—”

“Actually, forget it. I'm starving.”

I blinked.

“What?”

“It's tea time.”

“It is?”

“It can be.”

Before I could find a convincing excuse, he motioned towards the exit.

“Come eat something with me.”

“I don't think—”

“You think too much.”

I stared at him.

He grinned.

I already regret learning your name.

Outside, the cold air hit my face hard enough to make my eyes water.

The city centre was packed now. Cars crawled between traffic lights while people moved around us in every direction, wrapped in coats and carrying shopping bags, briefcases and takeaway cups.

I stayed close to Cheng.

Not because I wanted to.

Because within five minutes I'd lost any idea of where the university was.

My sense of direction had always been a complete disaster, so I started memorising street names, shops and anything distinctive enough to guide me back later.

A red sign.

A stone building with enormous columns.

A café on the corner.

Left here.

Right there.

Remember.

Meanwhile, Cheng walked as if he'd lived here his entire life.

“We're here.”

I nearly walked into his shoulder when he stopped.

Then I looked up.

And immediately wanted to leave.

The restaurant windows were tall and spotless, warm golden light spilling through them onto the pavement. Inside, white tablecloths and dark furniture sat beneath hanging lights that looked suspiciously expensive.

“This place?”

Cheng opened the door.

“I've been dying to come here with someone.”

Someone.

For some reason, that made me feel slightly better.

At least it didn't have to be me.

He stepped aside to let me enter first.

Such a small, unnecessarily polite gesture shouldn't have affected me.

It did.

Heat touched my cheeks as I walked past him.

Stop that.

A blonde woman greeted us almost immediately. Her uniform was immaculate, her hair pulled into a perfect ponytail.

“Reservation?”

“Liu.”

Of course he had a reservation.

She checked the list before smiling.

“This way, please.”

As we followed her deeper into the restaurant, Cheng asked whether there was somewhere quieter we could sit.

My stomach tightened.

Private.

Quiet.

I didn't know why those words bothered me.

The waitress led us towards a table near the back, partially separated from the rest of the room.

I caught myself watching her ponytail sway against her back.

A few loose strands had become trapped against the collar of her shirt.

Something about them held my attention longer than it should have.

Then the familiar cold sweat returned.

I wrapped my arms around myself.

Not now.

“Here you are.”

I sat quickly.

The waitress placed two black leather menus in front of us.

“Thank you.”

My smile felt unnatural even to me.

The second she left, I opened the menu.

And almost closed it again.

The prices were ridiculous. I could probably order a salad.

Maybe.

My stomach twisted at the thought of food.

Actually, no.

Nothing.

Across the table, Cheng was studying the menu with absolutely none of the financial terror I was experiencing.

That confirmed it.

Spoiled rich kid.

His mouth curved into a satisfied smile.

Apparently he'd found what he wanted.

The waitress returned, and Cheng ordered while I asked for only a drink.

I expected him to argue.

He didn't.

That surprised me.

Maybe he really had only wanted company.

Maybe anybody would've done.

For some reason, that thought bothered me too.

“So,” he said after the waitress disappeared, “where do you live?”

I sighed.

“You really don't give up.”

“You really don't answer questions.”

I looked towards the window.

“You aren't very talkative, are you?”

There was disappointment in his voice this time.

Before I could respond, the waitress returned carrying a bottle of red wine.

She uncorked it beside the table and poured two glasses.

I frowned.

“When did you order this?”

“On the way in.”

“You ordered an entire bottle?”

“I thought we should celebrate.”

“Celebrate what?”

Cheng lifted his glass.

“The beginning of a great friendship.”

I stared at him.

He was serious.

Or at least pretending to be.

His arm stretched halfway across the table, glass waiting for mine.

Something about his ridiculous confidence made it difficult not to smile.

I picked up my glass.

“That's ambitious.”

Our glasses touched with a quiet clink.

“To ambition, then.”

I took a sip.

Sweet at first.

Then warm.

The alcohol left a pleasant burn at the back of my throat.

“I'm not very good with alcohol,” I admitted.

“Then don't drink too much.”

That wasn't the answer I'd expected from him.

From the corner of my eye, I noticed the blonde waitress speaking to another member of staff.

She laughed.

Then looked towards us.

My fingers tightened around the glass.

What the—

“It's okay,” Cheng said, apparently misunderstanding my expression. “Drink whatever you want. I just want to know you better.”

He finished his glass and checked his phone.

“Sorry.”

I shrugged.

While he typed something, I drank the rest of mine.

Too quickly.

Warmth spread through my chest.

Maybe that was what I needed.

Something to soften the edges.

It wasn't that I disliked Cheng.

That was almost the problem.

He seemed easy to talk to.

Easy to look at.

Easy to be around.

And the less he knew about me, the better.

I shouldn't even have been there.

“So where do you live?” I asked instead.

His eyes lifted from his phone.

Surprise flickered across his face.

I almost rolled my eyes.

Yes, I can ask questions too.

“My family rented me an apartment near here.”

I knew it.

“They didn't want me in student accommodation because apparently I wouldn't study properly.”

He laughed, covering his mouth.

“Even though I told them it wasn't necessary. They never listen. So nosy.”

The waitress arrived with his food: fillet steak, hand-cut chips and charred broccoli.

I watched him cut into the steak.

Red gathered against the blade.

When he brought the first piece to his mouth, a trace of juice remained against his lower lip.

My attention fixed on it.

His tongue passed briefly across his lip.

My stomach tightened.

For one completely insane second, I wondered what it would taste like.

The steak.

Obviously.

Wait.

What the hell?

I looked down at my wine.

“You shouldn't say that about them,” I muttered. “They probably just want what's best for you.”

Silence.

I realised what I'd said.

Cheng's expression had changed.

“Oh.” He blinked. “Yeah. You're right.”

There was something almost embarrassed in the way he looked down at his plate.

“Sorry.”

Now I felt worse.

I hadn't meant to lecture him.

I was just jealous.

That was the ugly truth.

He could complain about parents who worried whether he studied enough because he still had people allowed to worry about him.

People whose concern hadn't become something complicated.

Something painful.

People never realised what they had until they lost it. I certainly hadn't.

I reached for my wine.

“Anyway,” Cheng said, breaking the silence, “you should eat something if you're going to keep drinking.”

“I'm fine.”

“You've said that a lot today.”

“Because I am.”

“You nearly fainted this morning.”

“That was different.”

“And now you've had two glasses of wine without eating.”

I narrowed my eyes.

“Are you always this annoying?”

“Only with people I like.”

My hand stopped halfway towards my glass.

Cheng appeared completely unbothered by what he'd just said.

He cut another piece of steak.

Then held the fork towards me.

I stared at it.

Then at him.

“What are you doing?”

“Preventing your death.”

“I don't want it.”

“One bite.”

“No.”

“Chin Mae.”

“Cheng.”

He smiled.

I hated that smile.

Mostly because I was beginning not to.

When he moved the fork closer, I noticed people at another table glance towards us.

My skin prickled.

“Just eat it.”

I opened my mouth, if only to make the entire embarrassing situation end.

The meat was warm and tender, its juices rich against my tongue.

Cheng looked unbearably satisfied.

“See?”

I raised a hand when he tried cutting another piece.

“No.”

He laughed and ate it himself.

My eyes fell to the white tablecloth.

A tiny red stain had appeared near his plate.

Blood-red against white.

What a pity.

“You should eat more,” Cheng continued. “You need energy if you're going to survive university.”

“I'll survive.”

I finished another glass.

My stomach protested immediately.

I ignored it.

I was beginning to feel pleasantly light. The restaurant seemed warmer now, Cheng's voice softer around the edges.

Recently, drinking had become dangerously easy.

A drink to sleep.

A drink not to think.

A drink because saying no required more effort than saying yes.

I rolled the stem of my empty glass between my fingers, watching the final drop of red wine slide around the bottom.

“Feeling better?”

I looked up.

Cheng was watching me.

“Maybe.”

His expression softened.

Then the waitress returned.

The moment I saw her, the warmth disappeared.

She collected Cheng's plate and poured the remaining wine into our glasses. Before leaving, her eyes flicked towards me.

Or I thought they did.

I watched her walk towards the kitchen.

She disappeared behind the doors, then emerged moments later and spoke to a middle-aged man behind the bar.

He looked over.

At me.

My body went still.

No.

The restaurant suddenly felt too bright.

Too crowded.

Too exposed.

“I'm sorry,” I whispered.

Cheng frowned. “For what?”

The man was still looking.

He doesn't know me.

Impossible.

He doesn't know me, right?

“Chin Mae?”

Cheng followed my gaze.

His expression changed when he looked back at me.

“Don't worry about them. Everything's fine.”

He leaned across the table slightly.

His hand moved.

Then stopped.

He remembered.

Don't touch me.

For some reason, watching him fight the instinct to reach for me hurt more than if he had.

His mouth kept moving, but his words began disappearing beneath the pounding in my ears.

The waitress had laughed.

Her colleague had looked at us.

Now that man was staring.

Maybe they thought—

No.

I could feel their eyes anyway.

Two men sitting together.

Cheng smiling at me.

Feeding me.

Me looking at him the way I had.

Disgusting.

The word arrived before I could stop it.

Not them.

Me.

I was disgusting.

My chest tightened.

They were laughing because of me.

They had to be.

“I need to go.”

“What?”

“Sorry.”

I threw money onto the table, grabbed my bag and stood so quickly the room tilted.

“Chin Mae, wait—”

I was already gone.

Cold air hit me the moment I pushed through the restaurant door.

I collided with someone outside.

“Sorry.”

The man barely looked at me before continuing down the street.

As if nothing had happened.

As if I were nothing.

I rubbed both hands over my face.

The city had changed while we'd been inside.

Darkness had fallen, windows glowing against wet-looking streets while signs burned in colours I didn't recognise.

I turned around.

Nothing looked familiar.

Perfect.

Drunk, panicking and lost.

Maybe the staff hadn't been talking about me at all.

Maybe the man hadn't really been staring.

Maybe I was simply drunk enough to turn every glance into an accusation.

I tried to breathe.

It didn't work.

My heartbeat became louder.

The traffic faded.

Voices disappeared.

And beneath everything—

waves.

I froze.

For one impossible second, I could smell salt.

The city vanished.

I was back home.

Dark water stretched before me, waves crashing against rocks while my high-school friends screamed at the cold and splashed one another near the shore.

Someone was laughing.

Someone else was trying to light a fire.

We used to be afraid of the sea after dark.

When the water turned black, we'd shine torches across it and convince ourselves we were safe.

Nothing could happen to us.

Not while we were together.

I could almost feel the wind again.

Smell the sea. Hear those stupid laughs.

Back then, that place had felt separate from everything else.

No expectations.

No lies.

No pretending.

Just us.

I wanted to go back.

God, I wanted to go back.

Back to the water.

Back to those nights.

Back to—

Stolen kisses in the darkness while everybody else slept.

A hand finding mine where no one could see.

A mouth against mine.

And morning arriving like nothing had happened.

Like we had never happened.

I closed my eyes.

My hands curled into fists.

Why does everything have to be so difficult?

Why am I here when the people I loved probably hate me now?

Why does everyone change?

The world tilted.

“Chin Mae!”

Arms caught me before I hit the pavement.

I knew that voice.

Cheng.

Of course he'd followed me.

“Why do you keep running away?”

I would've laughed if I had the energy.

I ask myself the same thing.

He pulled my arm around his neck and supported my weight.

“I'll take you home. Where do you live?”

Home.

The word felt strange.

“Mhm... hi.”

“What?”

I smiled stupidly.

His face was so close to mine that I could feel his breath.

Wine.

Something metallic.

Something that reminded me of—

Blood.

A shiver ran through me.

And underneath the fear, something warmer twisted low in my stomach.

I lowered my face immediately.

Don't.

I couldn't tell him where I was staying.

A hostel.

Even thinking about it filled me with shame.

He had his beautiful apartment paid for by his family.

I had a temporary room and a suitcase containing what remained of my life.

My knees weakened.

Cheng tightened his arm around me.

“Hey. Stay awake.”

I tried.

I really did.

But my body had already stopped listening.

My eyes closed.

The city disappeared.

And somehow, held against someone I'd met only hours ago, I felt something I hadn't expected to feel again.

Safe.

Almost like home.

My consciousness slipped.

And somewhere between memory and darkness—

I could smell the sea.