Their unspoken deal began that very day.

    Every afternoon after class, the corner of the old library became their own private space. Hạ An seriously taught Minh Khang every literary work, how to analyze characters and express ideas. At first Minh Khang seemed sluggish, but he quickly began picking things up. Behind that carefree exterior was a remarkably sharp and clever mind.

    In return, Minh Khang kept his promise. He took Hạ An up to the rooftop of the classroom building, a place few people knew about, to watch brilliant sunsets spill over the city. He brought her homemade milk tea with less sugar, just the way she liked it, or simply pulled her out into the schoolyard to watch the last patches of sunlight drift through the leaves.

    One rainy summer afternoon, the two of them got stuck under the eaves of the corridor. The sudden downpour cooled the air at once.

    “You know, Hạ An,” Minh Khang said, leaning his head against the peeling yellow wall and watching the raindrops splash across the yard, “I used to think it was enough to just let life drift by freely. But since I’ve watched you work so hard every day, I’ve realized that having a goal to strive for is a kind of happiness too.”

    Hạ An turned to look at his sharp profile. She answered softly, “And thanks to you, I’ve learned how peaceful the world outside of books can be.”

    They looked at each other. Amid the pounding rain, a quiet understanding spread between them. There were no grand promises. Their schoolyard feelings grew gently, like seedlings after the first rain of the season, clear and sincere.

    0 Comments

    Heads up! Your comment will be invisible to other guests and subscribers (except for replies), including you after a grace period.
    Note