Ping didn't stop running until his chest burned.
He didn't know what he was running from—Keng's hand, his voice, or the way his own body had betrayed him—but he knew one thing for sure.
If he stayed another second, he would have crossed a line he wasn't ready to face.
He slowed near the dorm building, gripping the strap of his bag as he tried to steady his breathing.
Stupid.
So stupid.
He could still feel it—Keng's presence, too close, too familiar. The way his name had sounded on Keng's lips like it meant something dangerous.
Ping pressed a hand to his chest.
Get a grip ping - He said to himself.
That night, he barely slept.
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Keng—not teasing, not smiling—but serious. Watching him like he was afraid Ping would disappear again.
The next morning, Ping avoided him.
He changed his route to class. Sat farther away. Left early. Arrived late.
Keng noticed.
Of course he did.
Kemg didn't chase.
That was worse.
Instead, he watched Ping the way one watches something fragile—like one wrong move would send it shattering.
Rain noticed too
"You're quiet," Rain said, eyeing Ping as they walked. "You ran like you saw a ghost yesterday."
Ping stiffened. "I did not."
Rain hummed. "Funny. Because someone else has been staring holes into your back since morning."
Ping didn't turn. He didn't need to.
"I told you," he muttered, "mind your business."
Rain smiled. "Your business is loud these days."
By lunchtime, even Keng's friends had caught on.
Tao leaned back in his chair. "He really bolted yesterday."
Bank nodded. "Didn't even look back."
Keng stayed silent, fingers tapping lightly against his phone.
"So?" Jinn said. "You finally pushed too far?"
Keng's jaw tightened. "I didn't push."
"Mm," Bank said. "But he ran."
Keng's eyes lifted, finding Ping across the courtyard—laughing quietly at something Rain said, like nothing was wrong.
His chest tightened.
"I'll wait," Keng said finally.
Tao raised an eyebrow. "You sure? You don't look patient."
"I don't need to be," Keng replied calmly. "He already crossed the line."
Later that evening, Ping was alone in the common room when someone sat beside him.
He tensed instantly.
"Relax," Keng said quietly. "I'm not here to trap you."
Ping didn't look at him. "Then why are you here."
"Because you running from me," Keng replied. "I'm being impatient right?"
Ping didn't reply.
Silence stretched between them.
"I won't do that again," Keng added. "Not unless you want me to."
Ping's fingers curled slowly against his knee.
"That's the problem," he said under his breath. "I don't know what I want."
Keng turned to him then, expression soft. "That's okay."
Ping finally looked up.
"I'm not leaving," Keng said. "But I won't chase you into corners either."
Ping swallowed.
"…You're annoying," he said weakly.
Keng smiled—not teasing this time. "I know."
And for the first time since yesterday, Ping didn't run.