Phuwin tugged at the hem of the crop top, the tie-dye swirl stretching across his chest as he turned to check himself in the small mirror by the door. Black, white, gray bleeding into each other—the fabric tight enough to show every line of his ribs. The tights hugged his thighs like a second skin, curving over his ass in a way that made him twist to see the reflection over his shoulder. He bit his lip, then smoothed his bangs down.
"You're gonna make me crash the car before we even get in it."
Pond leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, his blue button-up open at the collar. His voice had that low edge—the one that made Phuwin's stomach flip even when he was trying to be annoyed.
"Don't crash," Phuwin said, not turning. "I just got this ring. I need to show it off."
He flexed his left hand, catching the light on the diamond. The stone caught the morning sun and threw it across the wall in a tiny rainbow.
"You've been showing it off since six a.m." Pond pushed off the frame, crossing the room to wrap his arms around Phuwin from behind. His chin settled on Phuwin's shoulder. "I'm not complaining."
"Good." Phuwin leaned back into him, just for a second. The warmth of Pond's chest through the thin fabric. The solid weight of his arms. "Let's go. I told Tyral I'd help him find seashells before we leave."
Pond pressed a kiss to the curve of his neck and let go.
The kitchen was chaos in the best way. Joy was balancing baby Lin on one hip while reaching for a coffee cup. Kioer stood at the stove, flipping pancakes onto a stack that was already tilting dangerously. Santa sat at the table with a book open and a fork in his hand, eating directly from a plate of fruit. Siyh was arguing with Tai about who had stolen the last piece of toast, her voice loud and laughing. Jungkook and Taehyung sat on the counter stools, close enough that their shoulders touched every time Taehyung pointed at something on Jungkook's phone.
Phuwin's chest filled with something warm and too big to name.
"Good morning," he said, sliding into the seat next to Santa.
Siyh looked up, her eyes flicking from his face to his outfit. She let out a low whistle. "Okay. Crop top era. I see you."
"It's comfortable."
"It's a statement," she corrected, grinning. "And those tights? Criminal. You're gonna make every tourist on that trail trip over their own feet."
Phuwin stuck his tongue out at her, but he was smiling. The diamond on his finger caught the light again, and he watched it—a small, private gesture. Soònào, look. I'm wearing a crop top and my fiancé's ring. What would you say?
He heard her laugh in his memory. Something about having standards and thank god I don't have to dress you anymore.
"Where's Tyral?" he asked, looking around.
Joy pointed toward the back door with her chin. "Outside. He's trying to bury his airplane in the sand."
"I'll get him. We said we'd go to the hiking place today, right? Before we head back?"
"That's the plan," Kioer said, sliding a pancake onto a plate and pushing it toward Phuwin. "Eat something first."
Phuwin took the plate, but he was already thinking about the day ahead. The climb. The view from the top. The feeling of Pond's hand in his while the wind hit their faces. He ate quickly, the pancake sweet and warm, and washed it down with a sip of the coffee Santa pushed toward him without looking up from his book.
"Thanks."
"Mmhm."
Phuwin set down the fork and stood. "I'll get the little man."
The back door opened onto a narrow strip of sand that led to the main beach. Tyral was crouched a few feet away, his tiny fingers digging a hole while a bright red plastic airplane lay abandoned beside him. He was talking to himself—a low, serious monologue about something that involved the words "dragon" and "no, that way."
Phuwin crouched beside him. "Hey, little guy."
Tyral looked up. His eyes were big and brown, the same shade as Pond's. A smudge of sand clung to his cheek. "Hi, Phuwin."
"You ready for today? We're going on an adventure."
"An adventure?" The word came out slow, testing.
"Yeah. A big one. We're gonna climb up high and see the whole world."
Tyral's face scrunched. "Whole world?"
"Well, a lot of it."
He seemed to consider this. Then he picked up the airplane, held it out, and dropped it into the hole he'd dug. "The airplane needs to rest."
Phuwin laughed. "Okay. Let's leave it to rest, then. We'll come back for it later."
Tyral nodded seriously, then reached up with both arms—a universal signal. Phuwin scooped him up, settling the small warm weight against his hip. Tyral's fingers immediately found the fabric of Phuwin's crop top, tugging at the tie-dye pattern.
"Pretty," Tyral said.
"Yeah?" Phuwin's throat tightened. "Thank you."
He carried him back into the house, where the chaos had shifted toward packing. Coolers, bags, water bottles. Joy was strapping Lin into a carrier. Kioer was arguing with Santa about whose hat was whose. Pond was standing by the counter, holding a travel mug, watching Phuwin walk in with Tyral in his arms. The look on his face—soft, private, full of something that made Phuwin's cheeks warm.
"Ready?" Pond asked.
"Ready."
The car ride was a sprawl of bodies and bags. Joy and Kioer took the back bench with Lin's carrier between them. Tyral ended up on Siyh's lap in the middle row, the airplane now clutched in his fist, while Tai sat beside her with a bag of chips. Santa and Perth shared the third row, and Phuwin caught the way Perth glanced at Santa—quick, nervous, then away. Jungkook and Taehyung were in the row ahead of them, shoulders pressed together, talking in low voices that kept breaking into laughter.
Phuwin sat shotgun. The roof was open, and Pond had already slid the sunroof back, letting the morning air pour in. The music was something old and familiar—a Thai pop song from years ago that Phuwin's mother used to hum while she cooked.
He put his hand out the window, letting the wind slide through his fingers. The ring caught the sun, the diamond throwing light across the windshield, and he laughed.
"This ring is so beautiful." He turned it, watching the facets catch. "I keep looking at it. I can't stop."
Pond's hand left the wheel for a second to cover Phuwin's thigh. Squeezed once. "Good. That's the point."
"I'm going to flex it at every person we pass."
"Please do."
Behind them, Siyh's voice cut through. "We can see you two being disgustingly cute. The whole car can see."
"Jealous?" Phuwin twisted in his seat, holding up his hand in her direction. The diamond flashed.
"Of your ring? Yes. Of you? No. You're a mess."
"A engaged mess." He grinned.
Siyh rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. "Fine. Show-off."
The road curved along the coast, the ocean glittering on one side and green hills rising on the other. The wind pulled at Phuwin's bangs, and he let his head fall back against the seat, eyes half-closed. For a moment—just a moment—everything felt light. The hearing on Thursday was a distant thing, a cloud on the horizon but not yet here. Right now there was only this: the sun, the music, Pond's hand warm on his thigh, the ring on his finger, and the sound of his friends laughing behind him.
"What are you thinking?" Pond asked, voice low enough that only Phuwin could hear.
Phuwin turned his head. Pond's profile was sharp against the bright sky—the line of his jaw, the curve of his lips, the way his hair moved in the wind.
"That I'm happy," Phuwin said. "Really happy."
Pond's hand tightened on his thigh. "Good."
They drove for another twenty minutes, the road winding inland and upward. The town appeared suddenly—a cluster of buildings nestled against a hillside, colorful awnings and narrow streets packed with people. Tourist-season energy hummed through the air. Stallholders called out prices, the smell of grilled meat and sugar mixed with exhaust and salt.
Pond found a parking spot near the trailhead and killed the engine. The car erupted into motion—doors sliding open, bags being grabbed, Tyral already squirming to be let down.
"Okay, okay." Siyh set him on the ground carefully, and Tyral immediately ran a few steps, then stopped, looking back at the group with a serious expression.
"This way," he announced, pointing at a direction that was not, in fact, the trail.
"That's the wrong way, buddy." Kioer caught up to him, scooping him onto his shoulders. "We go this way. Up the hill."
"Up?" Tyral's voice went high.
"Up."
Joy fell into step beside Kioer, Lin asleep in her carrier. The rest of the group followed—Santa and Perth at the rear, talking in low voices; Siyh and Tai ahead of them, hand in hand; Jungkook and Taehyung walking close enough that their arms brushed with every step.
Phuwin slipped his hand into Pond's, their fingers interlacing. The trail was rocky and steep in places, worn smooth by thousands of feet. Trees crowded either side, their branches forming a dappled canopy. The air was cooler here, thick with the smell of damp earth and pine.
"You okay?" Pond asked.
"Yeah." Phuwin squeezed his hand. "I'm good."
They climbed. The trail switchbacked, revealing glimpses of the town below between the trees. The sound of the crowd faded, replaced by birdsong and the crunch of gravel underfoot. Tyral giggled from his perch on Kioer's shoulders, his airplane pointed at the sky like he was steering them.
At one of the switchbacks, Pond stopped. He bent down, and before Phuwin could ask what he was doing, strong arms hooked under his knees and behind his back, lifting him off the ground.
"Pond!" Phuwin's legs kicked out. "What are you doing? Put me down!"
"No." Pond started walking again, carrying Phuwin easily against his chest. "You're tired."
"I'm not tired!"
"You were slowing down."
"I was enjoying the view!"
"So was I." Pond's voice was warm, teasing. "Now I get to enjoy it and carry you."
Phuwin's face burned. He could hear the others laughing behind them—Siyh's sharp cackle, Santa's dry chuckle, Jungkook's full-bodied laugh. He buried his face in Pond's neck, mortified and glowing.
"You're impossible."
"You love it."
He did. He hated that Pond knew it.
"Pond is such a romantic," Taehyung called from behind. "Carrying his bride up the mountain."
"Shut up, Tae." But Pond was grinning.
They reached the top ten minutes later. The trail opened onto a wide, flat plateau—a natural balcony carved into the hillside. The view stole the breath from Phuwin's lungs. The ocean spread out below them, a sheet of turquoise and blue that stretched to the horizon. The town was a toy village, tiny and colorful, and the hills rolled away on either side, green and dense. The wind was stronger here, cool and clean, carrying the scent of salt and wildflowers.
"Okay," Phuwin said, squirming. "You can put me down now."
Pond did, slowly, letting Phuwin's body slide down his own before releasing him. Phuwin's legs wobbled for a second—not from the climb, from something else—and then he steadied himself.
Tyral was already pointing at the ocean, asking Kioer if they could swim in it from here. Joy was adjusting the carrier, Lin still asleep. The others spread out across the plateau, taking pictures, finding spots to sit. Santa leaned against a railing, staring at the view with a quiet smile. Perth stood beside him, close.
Siyh appeared at Phuwin's elbow. "Hey."
"Hey."
She was looking at him with that knowing expression—the one that said she could see right through him. "You okay? Really?"
Phuwin looked at the ring on his finger. Then at the sky. "I think she's here."
Siyh didn't ask who. She just nodded. "I think so too."
His throat tightened. "I keep talking to her. In my head. Showing her the ring. Telling her about Pond."
"She already knows." Siyh's voice was soft. "She always knew."
Phuwin blinked hard. "I know. I just... I want her to see it. To see me happy."
"She does." Siyh put a hand on his shoulder. "She's watching. And she's proud."
Phuwin nodded. The wind pulled at his bangs, and he let it.
Pond came up behind him, wrapping an arm around his waist. "You two having a moment without me?"
"Always," Siyh said, but she was smiling. She stepped away, pulling out her phone. "You two. Kiss. I need a photo for my story."
Phuwin laughed. "A photo?"
"Yeah. The engagement photo that isn't a blurry beach shot from last night. Come on."
Phuwin turned to Pond, raising an eyebrow. Pond answered by cupping his face and pulling him into a kiss. It was slow at first—soft, the wind moving through their hair. Then Pond's hand slid into Phuwin's hair, tilting his head, and the kiss deepened. Phuwin's hands found Pond's chest, gripping the fabric of his shirt, and he heard someone whistle—Jungkook, probably—but he didn't care.
Pond pulled back, just barely, his lips brushing Phuwin's as he spoke. "We have an audience."
"Let them watch." Phuwin kissed him again, quick and sharp, and then stepped back, breath coming fast. His lips felt swollen. His head was light.
Siyh was holding her phone up, grinning. "Got it. You two are disgustingly photogenic."
"Show me," Phuwin said.
She turned the phone. The photo was perfect—the ocean behind them, the wind catching his bangs, Pond's hand in his hair, the ring visible where Phuwin's hand rested on his chest. His eyes were closed. He looked happy. Really happy.
"Post it," Phuwin said.
Siyh raised an eyebrow. "Post it? Like, on your story?"
"Yeah." He looked at the ring again. "Everyone's going to see it eventually. Might as well be now. Before the hearing."
She studied him for a moment, then nodded. "Caption?"
Phuwin thought about it. The wind. The sun. The ring. The ghost of his mother haunting the edges of his joy. "Just... 'Soònào, this is the ring. He's the one. I'll bring him to meet you soon.'"
Siyh's eyes went soft. She typed it out, then showed him the preview. "Good?"
He nodded. His hands were trembling, just a little.
She posted it. "It's up."
Phuwin let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. He looked at the sky. I did it. Everyone's going to know.
The wind picked up, blowing his bangs across his face. He laughed. It felt like an answer.
Pond pulled him close, pressing a kiss to his hair. "You ready to go back down?"
"Not yet." Phuwin leaned into him, looking out at the ocean. "Let me stay here a little longer."
They stood at the edge of the world, the ring cold against his finger, the sun warm on his face, and the future—uncertain, terrifying, beautiful—waiting for them at the bottom of the mountain.