The first light of morning crept across the university lawn, catching on dew-damp grass and empty soda cans scattered from the night before. The courtyard was still, save for the occasional yawn or stretch of a hungover student emerging from their blanket burrito.
Cleo stirred first. He was still sitting against the low stone wall, where he'd drifted off with Riz's head on his shoulder. At some point during the night, their fingers had untangled, but Riz was still curled next to him, his hoodie pulled up, lashes fanned against his cheek.
He looked peaceful in a way that made Cleo's chest tighten.
Cleo didn't move right away. He just sat there, watching the golden sunlight trace the edge of Riz's jaw.
"Morning," Riz mumbled suddenly, without opening his eyes.
Cleo smiled. "You're awake."
"I've been awake. I was pretending so I could stay here longer."
That earned a quiet laugh. "You're such a sap."
Riz finally cracked one eye open and grinned. "You love it."
Cleo rolled his eyes, but the fondness in them was unmistakable. "Unfortunately."
Voices interrupted the moment—Bea's, loud and teasing, floating over from the snack table someone had lazily restocked with bread, jam, and boiled eggs.
"Oh my God, look at them!" she said dramatically, pointing with a spoon. "They're having a morning-after gaze! Like, the gay version of a K-drama scene!"
A couple of their teammates turned to look—half-awake but immediately invested. Someone snapped a photo. Riz groaned.
"I regret nothing," he said, then raised his voice. "Nothing happened! Just... light spooning."
"Spoken like a man who spooned very intensely," Bea quipped.
Cleo stood, stretching. "Do you ever turn off?"
"Do you ever stop giving Riz those heart-eyes?" Bea countered.
The group erupted into knowing laughter, but there was no cruelty in it—just the kind that came with too many nights spent sharing victory fries and tangled secrets under tents.
Riz stood and dusted himself off. "I'm hungry. Feed me before I start being honest with my feelings again."
"Tragic," Cleo said, already walking toward the table with him. "Don't do that. You might ruin your reputation."
As they reached for slices of bread, Bea slid in beside them like a gossip missile.
"By the way," she whispered, leaning close, "I heard the Law captain asked if you two were, quote, 'an item.'"
Riz blinked. "What did you say?"
Bea smirked. "I said 'define item.' Then I walked away dramatically. You're welcome."
Cleo chuckled. "You live for this."
"I breathe for this."
A buzzing noise interrupted them—Cleo's phone.
He checked the screen.
Mom: Are you boys still alive? Did you win? Did you eat??
Right after, Riz's phone buzzed too.
Mom: Is Cleo still with you? Bring him home for brunch! I made his favorite. 💖
They looked at each other.
"They're planning brunch," Cleo said, deadpan.
"They're definitely onto us," Riz replied.
Cleo sighed, pretending to be exasperated. "I guess we better go face them."
Riz grinned. "With matching varsity jackets and slightly wrinkled clothes from sleeping outside?"
Cleo nudged him. "Perfect power couple aesthetic."
They walked off, side by side, toward a new kind of morning—one where maybe, just maybe, they didn't have to keep pretending not to be in love.
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End of Chapter Eleven