somewhere in between-

10. 

Por should’ve told him to take it back. 

Should’ve shoved the painting into Teetee’s hands and told him *never do this again*. 

But he didn’t. 

Instead, the canvas still sat on the counter between them, untouched. 

It wasn’t just a painting. It was *something else*. 

Something heavy. Something *undeniable*. 

And Teetee— 

Teetee was still *watching him*. 

Por refused to look up. “Why would you waste your time on this?” 

Teetee hummed. “I don’t think it was a waste.” 

“That’s not what I—” Por clenched his jaw, cutting himself off. He wasn’t going to play this game. 

He pushed the painting back toward him. “Take it.” 

Teetee didn’t move. “It’s yours.” 

“I don’t want it.” 

Teetee tilted his head, smile unreadable. “Then why haven’t you thrown it away?” 

Por went still. 

His fingers twitched against the counter. He could *feel* the smirk in Teetee’s voice, the quiet challenge beneath the words. 

He hated that Teetee was right. 

Hated even more that he didn’t have a good answer. 

The silence stretched. 

Then— 

Teetee took a step closer. 

Not much, just enough to shrink the space between them. Just enough to *change* something in the air. 

Por’s breath slowed. 

And then— 

“I like drawing you,” Teetee murmured. 

Por’s stomach twisted. 

He *shouldn’t* react. Shouldn’t let Teetee’s words get under his skin. Shouldn’t let the warmth in Teetee’s voice *mean anything*. 

But— 

Teetee wasn’t teasing. 

He wasn’t throwing out careless words, waiting for Por to flinch. 

He was just *saying it*. 

Por felt his pulse hammering in his throat. He wasn’t sure why, but suddenly, he was *too aware* of everything—the way Teetee’s eyes stayed locked onto his, the way he spoke quietly, like he was saying something real, something *deliberate*. 

He had spent *hours* sketching him. *Him*. Not random landscapes, not faceless figures. *Por*. 

Something hot curled under Por’s ribs, unfamiliar and *dangerous*. 

He needed to break this moment. Needed to *end it now*. 

“You should stop,” he said, voice flat. 

Teetee blinked. “Stop what?” 

Por swallowed. *Stop looking at me like that.* *Stop making things complicated.* *Stop making me think about you when you’re not here.* 

Instead, he said, “Drawing me.” 

Teetee stilled. 

Por expected him to deflect, to brush it off with a laugh. But he didn’t. He just studied Por carefully, as if searching for something. 

Then, voice softer—*too soft*—he asked, 

“Why?” 

Por had no answer. 

Because what was he supposed to say? That it made him feel *seen* in a way he didn’t know how to handle? That it made something shift under his skin, something he didn’t have the words for? 

That it made him *want*— 

No. 

Absolutely not. 

Por exhaled sharply. “Because it’s annoying.” 

Teetee’s expression flickered. Just for a second. 

And Por felt it—*the mistake*. 

Something in his chest squeezed, sharp and immediate. He had said the wrong thing, twisted something the wrong way. 

Teetee looked at him for a moment longer. 

Then— 

He smiled. 

Easy. Relaxed. Like the last few seconds hadn’t just *happened*. 

“Alright,” he said, stepping back, slipping his hands into his pockets. “I’ll stop, then.” 

Por should’ve been relieved. 

He wasn’t. 

Because that smile— 

It wasn’t real. 

Teetee turned away, walking toward his usual spot near the window. But his steps were slower than usual, more measured. 

Por’s fingers curled into a fist against the counter. He didn’t like this. 

Didn’t like the way something had *cracked* between them. 

Didn’t like that Teetee had let it happen *so easily*. 

Didn’t like— 

“Por,” Teetee called over his shoulder, breaking the silence. 

Por looked up, heart still beating *too fast*. 

Teetee glanced back at him, smiling again—but this time, something was different. Not teasing. Not smug. Just… *knowing.* 

And then— 

“I lied,” Teetee said lightly. “I’m not gonna stop.” 

Por inhaled sharply. 

And then, before Por could say a word, Teetee dropped into his usual spot, flipping open his sketchbook— 

And started drawing *again*.