Beneath the Surface

Part 3

His fingers traced over the half-drawn lines of his sketch, his mind drifting back to the familiar, calm face of Longtai that he had drawn in a moment of distraction. It puzzled him why that face kept appearing in his sketches, why it lingered in his thoughts even now.

The class continued, but for Yok, the rest of the lecture was little more than background noise as he wrestled with his thoughts.

~

Longtai sat at the small wooden desk in the corner of his cozy bookstore, the late afternoon sunlight casting warm golden hues over the rows of neatly arranged books. The air was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of paper or the soft tap of a customer's footsteps. His head rested heavily on his folded arms, and his face was half-hidden by the stack of glossy university brochures sprawled out in front of him.

He let out a deep, frustrated groan, his eyes scanning over the booklets for what felt like the hundredth time. "Should I really do this?" he muttered to himself, huffing and gently tapping his forehead against the desk. His bangs fell messily over his face, a result of constantly ruffling his hair in anxious thought. He was torn. Enrolling in university felt like the next logical step-it was time for him to choose, time to move forward-but something about it filled him with unease.

The idea of change unsettled him. Would university life really be different from high school? He had kept to himself for so long, happy in his own quiet world of books and stories, never really fitting in with others. It wasn't that he disliked people; he just never knew how to find his place among them. His fear of not fitting in gnawed at him.

His fingers clutched at the booklets as he pouted, scrunching his face in frustration. "Why can't things just stay the way they are?" he whispered to the empty room. He didn't mind his routine. The small apartment, the quiet bookstore, the familiar streets-everything was in its place.

Longtai groaned again, pushing himself up and ruffling his hair in an attempt to stop the spiraling thoughts. "Stop thinking about it," he muttered. His hair now stuck up at odd angles, messier than before, but it gave him a charmingly disheveled look. Just as he sat up straight, the soft chime of the bell above the store's door rang, signaling a new customer.

Emma walked briskly toward the bookstore, her purple cardigan swaying lightly in the spring breeze, her shopping bag bouncing against her leg. Beside her, Yok trailed lazily, his hands in his pockets and a look of exasperation on his face. The sky was bright and clear, the warmth of the sun seeping through the buildings and casting a glow over the neighborhood.

"Do we really have to stop here?" Yok groaned, side-eyeing Emma as they neared the bookstore.

"Yes!" Emma chirped, her tone cheerful. "It's on the way to Sean's, and I need to pick up that book I reserved. You won't even notice the time passing."

Yok rolled his eyes. "I hate that you dragged me along," he muttered, though there was no real bite in his words. His voice was more resigned than annoyed. He sighed and shoved his hand deeper into his bag, pulling out a jacket. Without explanation, he shrugged it on, covering the tattoos that adorned his arms.

Emma gave him a puzzled look. "Why are you putting that on? It's warm out."

Yok adjusted the collar, tugging the sleeves down as if to hide something. He glanced at her briefly. "I don't know," he muttered, "I just... felt like it."

Emma furrowed her brow but shrugged it off. "Whatever, let's go. Sean's going to complain if we're late again."

Yok took a deep breath, pulling on the jacket more firmly, as if steeling himself for something. They stepped into the bookstore together, the bell above the door chiming once again.