Beneath the Surface

Part 11

The soft chime of the bookstore door rang out, pulling Longtai's attention as another customer stepped inside. He greeted them with his usual polite smile, his voice calm and steady, though his mind wasn't entirely in the moment. His phone, tucked in the pocket of his apron, buzzed again-its vibration a subtle reminder of the ongoing conversation he'd been juggling all day.

When there was a lull in the activity, Longtai reached for his phone and glanced at the screen.

Yok: Your shift's almost over, right? I'm coming to get you.

Longtai felt a familiar warmth bloom in his chest, a sensation he still wasn't quite used to. His fingers moved quickly over the screen, typing back before he could second-guess himself.

Longtai: Where are we going?

The reply came almost instantly, as if Yok had been waiting for him to text back.

Yok: Just be ready.

Longtai sighed softly, his lips quirking into the faintest smile. He slid the phone back into his pocket, doing his best to ignore the small flutter of anticipation stirring in his chest. It was strange how easily Yok managed to weave his way into Longtai's day-through texts, unexpected calls, and moments like these, where he seemed to pop into Longtai's life without warning or explanation.

It had been a week now since they'd fallen into this rhythm, this casual exchange of messages and photos. Longtai had started it, surprisingly, with the impulsive cat photo. Since then, their conversations had become an odd but comforting mix of Yok's playful silliness and Longtai's quiet, thoughtful responses.

Longtai had found himself sharing more than he ever thought he would. Photos he took for his photography project-snapshots of the world through his eyes-were sent to Yok with little captions. Sometimes, Yok would reply with something ridiculous, like claiming one photo of an empty park bench looked "too dramatic, like the bench has feelings." Other times, he'd share his own creations, pictures of the graffiti he painted on walls across the city, bursting with colors and life.

Longtai didn't know what to make of this strange connection they were building, but he found himself looking forward to Yok's messages. And now, the thought of Yok waiting for him outside, ready to whisk him away on some unplanned adventure, made the corners of Longtai's mouth twitch upward again.

Shaking his head slightly, Longtai pushed the thoughts aside and refocused on the task at hand. There were still customers to assist, books to organize, and time to pass before his shift ended. But even as he worked, his mind kept drifting to the moment he'd walk out of the bookstore, to the person who'd be waiting for him just beyond the door.

Longtai stood near the counter, his voice calm and measured as he explained the closing routine to the new employee. He glanced at the clock, his shift almost over, when the door chime rang out again. He didn't bother looking up at first, assuming it was another customer.

"Let's go, Longtai!"

The familiar voice snapped his attention to the doorway, and there stood Yok, radiating his usual uncontainable energy. Longtai blinked, his carefully composed exterior faltering for a moment. Yok didn't wait for an answer. Before Longtai could utter a word of protest, Yok strode over, grabbed his hand, and tugged him toward the door with a confidence that left no room for resistance.

"Wait, Yok-" Longtai started, his voice catching as his heart skipped a beat. He wasn't used to being pulled into someone else's orbit so easily, so casually.

But Yok didn't let go, didn't stop. Longtai could feel the warmth of his grip, firm yet gentle, and something in that touch silenced his objections. The curiosity that flickered in his chest overpowered the instinct to retreat.