(Mali's POV)
Mali noticed things.
She always did.
Small things.
Quiet things.
Things people didn't say.
Like how—
Phuwin never looked at Arthit for long.
But always noticed when he entered a room.
Like how—
Arthit didn't talk much.
But always listened when Phuwin spoke.
Like how—
Krit pretended not to care.
But watched both of them constantly.
"…This is exhausting," Mali muttered.
"What is?" Krit asked.
"You."
"Rude."
They were decorating after school.
Lights. Paper. Tape everywhere.
Messy.
Chaotic.
Normal.
Phuwin stood on a chair, trying to hang something.
"…This is not straight," he complained.
"It's fine," Krit said.
"It's not fine."
"It's fine."
"It's literally crooked."
"…Here."
Arthit stepped forward.
Held the edge.
Fixed it slightly.
"…Like this."
Phuwin paused.
Looked at it.
"…Yeah."
Quiet.
Soft.
Too soft.
Mali noticed.
Of course she did.
They didn't look at each other.
But the space between them—
felt different.
Not fixed.
Not okay.
But…
not empty either.
Mali frowned slightly.
"…Oh."
Krit glanced at her. "What?"
"…Nothing."
But it wasn't nothing.
Because for the first time—
Mali realized something.
This wasn't over.
Not really.
And that?
Was going to make everything harder.
End of Chapter 9