"Are you free later? For an hour? Probably less," Gumo suddenly said, scrunching up a paper ball and tossing it at the wastepaper basket.
"Yeah, once I finish this." Miku tapped her pen against her notebook, semi-distracted. She was curled up on a beanbag in the study room, looking through her notes. There were so many dates to memorise for this class, and it was painful.
"Okay. I was wondering if you'd be able to model for me." His words took a while to register, but when they did she stiffened, her pen falling from her fingers. Gumo was scribbling on a piece of scrap paper. "Huh. That got your attention."
"You…you want me to model for you? Today?" she squeaked, looking down at herself. She was dressed in a ratty tank top and an old pair of sweatpants, her hair whipped into a sloppy bun. This was far from her best look, and Gumo knew that.
"Why not? I need to practice. At this rate, I'll forget how to draw realistically." He shot her a wicked grin. "Why? Want to change your outfit? Put on some makeup?"
"Shut up!" She picked up her pen and threw it at him, and he ducked, slapping the pen away from his face. "Okay, wait. Hand that back. I need it."
"You're pretty demanding for someone who attacked me first." But he tossed the pen to her anyway, and she caught it with a murmur of thanks. "So, you can help me out later? It's no biggie – I'll be sketching while you do stuff, so you won't have to pose."
"Oh." She blinked. "That's…okay, I guess. You won't make me do anything weird?"
"I don't know what you define as weird, but probably not." He chuckled. "Scared I'll make you look bad?"
He was teasing her now, and she pouted, circling a date in her notes. She had no idea what happened in that year but at least it made her look busy. "You're doing this on purpose."
"Sweetheart, if I cared about the way you looked I wouldn't even have agreed to study with you today." She narrowed her eyes at him, and he held out his hands. "I mean, not to say that you're hideous or anything. You're stunning, Miku. As usual."
"Flattery will get you nowhere," she warned, now underlining the circled date. His eyes crinkled with mirth, and she was momentarily distracted by just how attractive he was – god, how had she not noticed before?
Probably through sheer force of will. She'd been told a million times that crushing on a friend was never a good idea, and she could understand why. "But it's not flattery if you believe it!" he sang, and she rolled her eyes, turning her head away from him.
"How are you so free? Don't you have any assignments to turn in?" She twirled her pen around her fingers, trying to focus. Of course, she could put off her revision to another day but she just wanted to get this over and done with.
She'd finally worked up the courage to ask Len for study tips and the first thing he told her was that she should look through her notes every day. Just a little each time, he said, but make it consistent. And eventually, she'd remember everything like the back of her hand and it'd be easier to study for her finals.
This was the second week she was attempting to follow his advice. And while the very first time she tried this hadn't been too bad, she was now bored with her routine. It made her wonder whether looking through just one or two pages of notes each day truly did have any effect – but then again, Len was on the Dean's List and he never failed to do well on his tests. She should listen to him if she wanted to score, right?
"Hm, already done with them," he answered, sinking into his chair, his head hanging over the back. "I have a quiz coming up next week but it should be fine."
"A quiz?" It was rare for Gumo to be tested on anything. Most of his classes were project-based, after all.
"Uh-huh. Oh, it's one of those compulsory holistic classes. Pop Culture in Biology." He made a face. "It sounds fun, right? Until you realise the professor reads off his slides…ugh. Luckily it's a multiple choice quiz. I hate science stuff."
She gave him a sympathetic look. "What kind of pop culture things do you learn?"
He snorted. "That all those crime forensic shows we watch are unrealistic. But I didn't need a university class to tell me that." He paused, tapping his finger against his chin. "I'm sure we were taught more but frankly, I can't remember anything right now."
"Sounds fun? I mean, if you ignore the reading off the slides part." He frowned at her, his head still hanging over the back of the chair, his bangs falling away from his face. "What? You get to watch shows and stuff. Isn't that a good thing?"
He pouted. "Yeah, but you know I'm not a fan of sci-fi, and that's most of the movies we end up watching. I fell asleep a few times." He finally sat upright, turning around to straddle the chair, his arms draped across the back. "How did you clear the science requirement? What class did you take?"
"Oh, last year there was a class about perfume-making. It counted as a science mod but it was pretty fun! Not that I remember anything from it."
"Damn. Now that sounds like something I might enjoy." He sighed, walking his fingers across his forearm. "You should have taken this class instead. You'd have more fun with the movies, I'm sure. I mean, is there any genre of film you don't enjoy?"
"I don't like romcoms." She stared at her notebook and noticed a blank margin – did she forget to fill in a date, perhaps? Gumo made a sound of surprise. "You've never seen me suggest a romcom on movie nights, right? They're not my thing."
"Romcoms are cute though. Don't they make you feel all warm and fuzzy inside?" He shifted his chair closer, and she stilled, much too aware of his sudden proximity. "It's the kind of thing you watch with your partner. Mostly to laugh at how stupid the plot is. I don't know about you, but I've always liked making fun of the actors…"
"Okay, that can be entertaining. But." She hesitated. "Romcoms remind me of things I don't want to think about. There are far more interesting shows to watch anyway."
She half-expected him to ask what those things were, and he did give her a curious look, but when he opened his mouth he changed the topic and she exhaled, grateful that he didn't question her. "Want to grab lunch?"
"Sure." She could use a break. Clambering up from her beanbag, she tossed her pen and notebook on the table, fishing for her wallet in her bag. She briefly thought about bringing her bag along but decided that if someone wanted to steal her scrap paper then they were welcome to it. Gumo shoved his hands in his pockets, whistling as he led the way out, and she walked behind him, staring at the back of his head.
"Gumo, what have you been doing for the past two hours? I'm curious," she said, and he glanced over his shoulder at her, his eyes bright with amusement.
"Hm, working on a little project, I guess." He held up his hands, smudged with streaks of grey. "Charcoal is a mess to use, but the results are always so satisfying."
"Should you be putting your hands in your pockets? You're going to leave marks all over your clothes," she pointed out, and he chuckled, reaching out to wipe his thumb over her cheek – she yelped, jumping back as she indignantly patted her face.
"Nice to know that you're so concerned about my cleanliness." He raised an eyebrow. "This is a super old pair of sweats, so I'm not fussed about how dirty they get."
"Still…" She exhaled. "Why didn't you just draw me while I was studying?"
"Nah, that's boring. I wanted to do some dynamic sketches, but you spent the entire time huddled in your beanbag and you barely moved an inch. I figured I'd have better luck asking for your help later. Hopefully when you're a little less stressed."
"Oh." She didn't know what to say, so she just stared at the floor, thinking over his words. She wasn't stressed. Probably. But maybe she looked like she was?
His fingers touched her chin, tilting her face up, and she looked straight into his eyes, her breath catching. "You've been spacing out a lot lately. More so than usual," he commented, and though his tone was neutral she could sense his concern, feel it in the way he studied her, how he touched her more gently than he normally would.
"I'm not stressed. I think." She didn't move away from him, too caught up in his gaze – Gumo reminded her of balmy summer days and peaceful afternoons by the lake, and it was so comfortable. "I just have a few things on my mind."
"Am I one of them?" He laughed, and she wondered if it would be appropriate to tell him that yes, indeed, he was. "Kidding. But is there anything I can help you with?"
She shook her head. "Thanks for the offer though. I appreciate it."
"No problem." He cocked his head, studying her. "You know that I'd drop everything else I'm doing for you so long as you said the word, right?"
"What?" She was almost definitely blushing. How could he go around saying stuff like that with such a straight face? "You're never that helpful when we ask you to design stuff for the dorm. Don't try to trick me with your pretty words."
He scoffed. "Please. I'm always helpful when you come to me. The gorilla girl, on the other hand…she doesn't even knock! You know the number of times she barged into my room after almost destroying my door? She's unbelievable."
"You know Rin. She's just a little, um, enthusiastic sometimes." Which was a massive understatement. Gumo narrowed his eyes at her, his fingers still holding up her chin.
"I don't want to think about whether Rin's penchant for destruction can be attributed to enthusiasm or sheer malice. It's probably the latter, but that's not important right now." His thumb brushed her cheek, gentle. "I just want you to know that I'm here for you, that's all. And you can always come to me if you need help."
"Thank you," she whispered, taken aback by how serious he sounded – he was rarely this intense, after all. Gumo cracked a grin, then bopped her on the nose and took a step back, his eyes dancing with mischief.
"By the way, you might want to wash your face before you head to the cafeteria," he said, wriggling his hands, and too late she remembered the charcoal streaks on his fingers. She whipped out her phone to check her reflection, then shot him a glare.
"Hilarious, Gumo. I'm laughing." But he was laughing and she couldn't help but soften, averting her face to hide a smile. Maybe she could forgive him this once.
Like what Gumo promised, he didn't request anything fancy. It was just them in the courtyard, him sitting underneath a tree with his sketchbook, and her traipsing awkwardly through the community garden.
"Just act natural," he called, and she glared at him, lifting her hand to shield her eyes from the sun. "You know, be yourself! Don't worry about me!"
"If I was being myself I wouldn't even be in the garden!" she shouted, and she could see him laughing from here, his hand flying across the page. She huffed, pushing her bangs out of her eyes – it was so bright today. She hadn't realised how warm it was outside, and god, she wished she could just crawl back into the study room right now.
Be herself, huh? Miku wasn't a very outdoorsy person, but if she did decide to leave her room and wander to the garden, then what would she do? She studied the plants the Horticulture Club had cultivated, crouching to look at the young leaves shooting up from the soil. She wondered what plants these were. There weren't any signs.
Maybe she should start eating more vegetables. She wasn't too fond of them because they usually tasted so bland to her, but things might be different if she grew her own veggies. She had some space on her windowsill, it'd be just nice for a pot or two.
She rose, walking further into the garden. Most of the plants were still growing – the club members had only sowed seeds a few weeks ago. She glanced at the colourful pebbles that lined the winding path and wondered which club member had put them in position. So much effort for a tiny garden most people wouldn't even come to.
"Is there something specific you want me to do?" she called, hoping to get Gumo's attention. He was already looking at her, and he cocked his head, considering.
"It'd be nice if you can interact with the plants a bit more! But it's fine either way." He gave her a thumbs-up and she sighed, kicking a tuft of grass.
"I hate the outdoors," she muttered, and though she was aware that Gumo couldn't hear her, his lips curved up like he knew exactly what she was saying. Maybe he did. She wasn't very difficult to read, after all. And he was frighteningly observant.
She lost track of the number of times he would casually say something that made her stop and stare at him, taken aback by just how perceptive he was. He knew her food preferences almost better than she did, and whenever schoolwork was getting to her, he'd show up outside her door with scrambled eggs and a cup of hot chocolate.
He treated her so well. She felt her heart clench at the thought. This situation made her think about her ex and how she once took him for granted – she didn't want the same thing to happen here. But how was she supposed to make a decision?
"Oi, Miku. You okay?" She jumped at the sound of his voice, much closer than it was before. Gumo was standing outside the community garden, staring at her with an eyebrow raised. "I know you're a pro at spacing out, but this is a bit too much."
"Sorry, I was just thinking about stuff." She exhaled, turning around to face him. "It's stupidly warm today. I don't even want to know what summer will be like."
He made a face. "Uncomfortable, probably. The past few years have been weirdly hot." His gaze was sympathetic. "Do you need a break? We can go back inside if you want."
"Nah, I'm good. It'd be silly to take a break, it's not like I'm doing anything." Besides thinking. It would be great if her brain could shut up for once. "Can I see?" she asked, pointing at his sketchbook.
He hesitated. Even after he admitted that he liked to draw her, he was still strangely reluctant to show her his sketches. "When we're done, maybe. Or if you want…"
"If you don't want to show me now, it's fine." She shrugged. "It's your work, after all. I know how it feels to let people see stuff you haven't completed yet."
Gumo exhaled, his eyes twinkling. "You're so understanding, sweetheart. What great things did I do in my past life to be blessed with an angel like you?"
She rolled her eyes. "That was awful. You need to brush up on your pickup lines."
"I'll have you know that it worked on every other girl I said it to." He pouted.
"Maybe their standards are lower," she said, and he laughed, a warm, inviting sound that made her toes curl. She kicked another tuft of grass, trying to distract herself from that familiar feeling. "You know what? I kind of want to take my shoes off."
He blinked. "Oh? I wouldn't expect that from someone who hates the great outdoors."
"I like the way grass feels beneath my feet. I used to walk barefoot on our lawn all the time back home. It helps me come up with ideas." She stepped out of her flats and reached down to remove her socks, carefully placing her feet on the stone path.
It was pleasantly warm, and she wriggled her toes, feeling strangely relieved. "Didn't you ever do this as a kid?" she asked, noticing the look on Gumo's face.
"Not out of choice." He grinned, reaching over to ruffle her hair, and instinctively she batted his hand away. "Be careful, if not you'll end up hurting your feet."
"Yeah, I will." She paused. "I was wondering. Don't you already have models when you go for your life drawing class? The art department is always recruiting."
"Yeah, we do." He took a step away, his hand flying back to his sketchbook. His eyes were intense, and honestly, they made her feel a little exposed. "But drawing them is no fun. They're too, mm, professional? And that's not how I like to do things."
"But you are a professional," she pointed out, confused.
"Correction. I enjoy spontaneity," he mumbled, his gaze flicking between her face and his drawing. "An amateur model is far more entertaining than someone used to the studio. They force you to think fast. Get more done within a shorter timeframe."
"Isn't it challenging to draw someone when they won't stay still, though?" she asked, taking a step forward. "Why would you make life difficult for yourself?"
"Why wouldn't I?" He grinned, slipping his pencil between his teeth as he flipped the sketchbook. He looked cute like this, and she glanced away, not wanting to stare. "I hate doing the same thing over and over. It gets so boring."
"Never knew you were the type to challenge yourself," she said, staring at the plants growing next to the path. She wondered if they would flower eventually.
She felt a hand close around her wrist, and she looked back, meeting his gaze. Gumo was watching her, his pencil tucked behind his ear. "I challenge myself all the time, Miku. That's why I fell for you, right?"
He winked, but there was still something uncharacteristically serious about the way he was looking at her – she fidgeted, unsure how to respond to his comment. It was so straightforward, and there didn't seem to be any way to brush it off as a joke. "Am I that difficult to deal with?" she finally asked, the safest thing she could say.
His lips quirked up. "Man, trying to get anything out of you is like petting a spooked cat. I have to keep telling myself that coming on too strong would freak you out." He raised an eyebrow at the frown on her face. "Am I wrong?"
"No," she admitted. "But you're so good at noticing things, and it scares me a little." His thumb traced slow circles over her wrist. "I don't know how you're so patient."
"Oh, I'm not as patient as you think I am." He chuckled, green eyes shifting away from her. "But good people are worth waiting for. As long as you're not dating, I still have a chance, right? Pretty sure you'll be able to make up your mind someday."
"You have too much faith in me," she answered, and he shrugged, letting go of her. She immediately missed his proximity, but at least he didn't step away, still standing beside the hedge that separated them. "I'm no good with decisions."
"Not many people are." He shook his head. "Maybe that's why Rin is your best friend? She's great at making snap decisions. Sometimes too great," he muttered.
She wrinkled her nose. "Do you have some kind of personal vendetta against her? I mean, you're always at each other's throats. I used to think it was a joke, but…"
He rolled his eyes. "You don't see it, but she can be such a pain in the ass. All I want is alone time with you but she always gets in the way. Does she think I'm a pervert or something?" he demanded, and his expression made her giggle.
"No, she's just protective. And I appreciate it." She pressed her foot into the soil, her toes wriggling in the grass. "She's been my friend for a long time. And she knows a lot about…why I'm the way I am." The last part was spoken in a whisper.
"I see." He could probably tell she was uncomfortable since he instantly changed the subject. "Do you remember telling Luka that you wanted to help out in her kitchen?"
She blinked. "Yeah, I guess." Though she had yet to visit TAKO. It was embarrassing to think about showing her face there, given how drunk she had been the last time they were at Luka's restaurant. "Why are you suddenly bringing that up?"
"Because Luka texted me to ask if you still wanted to help. She said she needs a new server and she was wondering if you were interested." He shrugged again. "I remember you complaining about how hard it is to find a part-time job, so if you're keen…"
"Oh! That would be great!" She had worked at a food stall before, and she figured it shouldn't be too different from waitressing. "When does she need me to start?"
"Hm, next week I think. One of her servers is moving away, and there's going to be a private party next weekend so she needs all the help she can get." He grinned. "But she wants to talk to you first. Said she wanted to go through the job description."
"Won't I just be a server? It's a pretty standard role, isn't it?" She looked at the blue sky overhead – it was a cloudless day, and the sun beat down relentlessly upon them, the kind of warmth that made her burn. There was barely any wind.
It was a surprisingly hot day for spring. "Yeah, but she remembers what you told her. About wanting to cook well," he answered. "So she thought she could show you some ropes. Let you play around in the kitchen a bit. You'd be an intern of sorts, I guess."
Miku wondered if she was dreaming. She had to pinch herself to check. "Her intern?" God, some people would do anything to study under a chef of Luka's status. She had done nothing to deserve this. "Um. I would love – I can do that? Be…her intern?"
"Why not?" Gumo cocked his head. "I've been your guinea pig enough times to know that you can cook. You might not be the best, but you're pretty decent! I'll vouch for you if she wants references," he declared, his voice filled with confidence.
When he smiled at her that way, he was dazzling. She swallowed. "I appreciate that. But um. Let me think about it. When does she need an answer by?"
"Eh, I don't know. By tomorrow?" He slid his pencil off his ear, tapping the tip against his chin. "You want her number? Then you can let her know when you're ready."
"Is it okay for you to just give out her number –" But he was already tapping on his phone, and she pressed her lips together, waiting for the inevitable contact to come. Her phone buzzed, and she glanced at her screen. A new message from Gumo.
"There you go. It's a great opportunity, you know. I'd take it up if I were you," he said, at the same time holding up his sketchbook so that he could continue to sketch her. She didn't want to imagine what kind of expression she was wearing right now.
"Yeah, I know. Thanks." What else could she say? She felt almost coerced into taking up the job…okay, maybe coercion was too strong a word. She opened Luka's contact, staring at the little numbers on her screen.
"How many celebrity numbers do you have tucked away in your phone?" she muttered, and he glanced up, his hand pausing over the page.
"You want to know?" he asked. She stared at him, startled – she hadn't meant that as a legitimate question. "I'll tell you for a kiss." His smirk was charmingly wicked.
"Fine," she whispered, and before she could change her mind she leant over the hedge, seizing the collar of his shirt. She pulled him down and their lips met, a fleeting kiss, but when she pulled back her whole face felt tingly. His green eyes were wide.
"I-I was kidding," he stammered, and she could see a tinge of pink in his cheeks. "Um. Wow. I didn't expect – ahem." He cleared his throat, shaking his head. "I know a few popular artists and a singer or two, but I'm not sure if they'd count as celebrities…"
"Wow. So you tricked me," she deadpanned, and he cracked a grin, flicking his bangs out of his eyes. "If you wanted a kiss that badly, you could've just asked."
He raised an eyebrow. "And you would give me one? I have my doubts."
She averted her gaze, heat rushing up to her face. "I don't know. Maybe." She peeked at him and saw that he had gone still, his gaze fixed upon her.
"That's not something you can joke around about, you know." His voice was teasing, but he looked so serious that she wasn't sure how to respond.
"I'm not joking." She stared down at the path, suddenly finding the stone surface to be particularly interesting. "You just have to ask. And I'll think about it."
His fingers touched her chin and he forced her to look up, meeting his gaze – he leant in, slow, tentative, and she didn't pull away. Instead, she let her eyes close, and his lips were so soft, so warm; she sighed into the kiss, her fingers curled into fists by her sides.
Gumo was the first to withdraw, an inquisitive light in his pretty eyes. She took a shaky breath, still able to feel the imprint of his mouth against hers. "You didn't ask," she pointed out, though her voice was feeble.
"Oh, I apologise for the transgression." He grinned, his fingers reaching up to stroke her cheek. "I'll be sure to submit a formal written request in the future."
She giggled, unable to help herself. "That's stupid."
He made a face. "I don't want to hear that coming from you." Then his expression softened. "You know, you're so cute sometimes. Makes me want to keep you all to myself, Len be damned." His breath grazed her ear, his voice low and sensuous – a shiver ran down her back, but it wasn't entirely unpleasant. "Is it so bad to be greedy?"
A side of him she'd never seen before. His closeness was dizzying. "Greed is one of the seven deadly sins," she protested. "It's not a good thing." There was no conviction in her words.
"I think I'd willingly risk my soul for a chance with you." He looked her in the eye, and she couldn't quite read the look on his face. "Well, see you later, I guess. I'm almost done with my sketches and I'm sure you're busy, so I won't keep you."
He released her, and she let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding. He waved carelessly as he walked away from the community garden, and she slowly put her socks back on, wondering what that whole exchange meant.