A HIDING PLACE

THYME'S POV:

I just wanted to find a quiet corner of the rooftop to exist for a while. Of course, that’s when I saw him.

He was leaning against the far railing, a tall, imposing shape even from a distance. As I got closer, I realized just how tall he was—easily 185 cm, towering over me. He had that lean, athletic build you see in magazines, all muscle without the bulk. And his face? Annoyingly handsome, with sharp features and a look of complete boredom.

A knot formed in my stomach. Great, just my luck. Someone’s here.

He had this quiet confidence that instantly made me feel small. I mean, I could see he was good-looking—anyone with eyes could—but a wave of nervousness crashed over me anyway. Who was this guy? And what was he doing here?

He turned his head slowly, like he’d sensed me staring. His eyes—dark and unreadable—locked right onto mine.

"Well, well. Look what the cat dragged in," he said. His voice was deep and calm, but it had an edge that made me flinch. "Not many people make it up here. Even fewer know it’s my spot."

He pushed off the railing and took a slow step toward me, his eyes raking over me with an intensity that made my skin crawl. "So, how’d you know? And how’d you get up here?"

My mind went completely blank. "I… I just… I didn’t know anyone was here."

He arched an eyebrow, a flash of annoyance on his face. "Don't tell me you're another one." His voice dropped the calm act, sharpening. "You've been watching me, haven't you? Found my spot. Is that why you're not answering? You're one of them?"

I blinked, thrown. One of what? His admirers? Me? Never. The whole idea was so absurd, and his tone so aggressive, that I couldn't get a word out. My silence, apparently, was all the confirmation he needed.

He let out a short, humorless laugh. "Look, I don’t have time for this, or for you." He waved a hand toward the stairs. "This is my territory. My space. So if you’re part of my little fan club, you can leave. Now. I come here to escape, not to be stared at."

My fear vanished, replaced by pure, unfiltered irritation. His territory? Who did this guy think he was?

When I found my voice, it was sharp. "Excuse me?!" I scoffed. "'Your territory'? Do you even know where you are? This is the rooftop of the Faculty of Science building!" I gestured around us. "And you, in your Engineering uniform, are telling me this is your territory?! How does that even make sense? You're not even a student in this building!"

He didn't even bother to respond. Not a word, not a glance. He just walked past me like I was air and headed for a battered lounge chair in a sunny corner. He lay down, pulled a thick textbook out of his bag, and slapped it over his face. Within seconds, his breathing was deep and even. He was asleep.

I just stood there, dumbfounded. He’d actually, completely, utterly ignored me. I wanted to kick him. Hard. Right where the sun doesn't shine. But my inner voice, the one that’s always nagging me about being the bigger person, held me back. Fine. I’d let him be, as long as he stayed on his side of this very-much-not-his rooftop.

"So where do I sit?" I muttered, looking around. The only other decent chair was, of course, right next to the Sleeping Gorilla.

Ugh.

"Just ignore him," I whispered to myself, tiptoeing over like a nervous ninja. Waking the beast was the last thing I needed.

I settled into the chair and looked up at the sky. It was beautiful—a perfect blue with fluffy white clouds drifting by. Suddenly, my stomach rumbled. A spicy Som Tum would be perfect right now—light, tangy, with a bit of a kick. And some smoky Gai Yang to go with it. And sticky rice, you have to have sticky rice. Oh, and for dessert, mango with sticky rice…

"Argh, now I’m starving," I groaned out loud. The lump on the next chair didn't move.

Glorp… glorp…

SHIT. That was loud. Like, whale-in-distress loud. I froze, my eyes glued to the gorilla-shaped lump. Oh god, did he hear that? Did he just twitch?

"Should I check if he's awake?" I whispered, debating for a solid three seconds before deciding. "Just a quick peek."

I leaned over, slowly, and lifted a corner of the book. His eyes were wide open, a mischievous glint in them. He'd been waiting.

"Shit!" I yelped, scrambling back so fast I almost fell.

He pushed the book off his face, a lazy smirk spreading across his lips. "Checking up on me?"

"No! I was…" My mind was a blank slate. No plausible lie in sight.

"Stop making excuses. It's clear you're one of my admirers," he said with infuriating confidence.

I wanted to wipe that smug look off his face, but one look at his arms versus my own noodle arms told me that was a bad idea. "I don't care what you think!" I snapped. "I'm tired of being misunderstood by a bastard like you!"

I spun around and stomped back to my chair. A loud, booming laugh followed me. "You're funny!"

His laughter grated on my nerves, but I took a deep breath. Don't engage. Not today.

"I was joking," he said, still sounding amused. "I know you're not an admirer. I don't think any of them have a stomach that loud."

My face burned. "That didn't happen! Stop making things up!"

He just laughed harder.

"Stop laughing at me, you stupid giant gorilla!" The words flew out of my mouth before I could stop them. My hand shot up to cover it. Shit. Did I just make it worse? Is he going to crush me now?

His laughter died down to a chuckle. "Okay, okay. I'll stop, Snotty Kid."

Snotty Kid?! My jaw dropped. I’m a university student! A little voice of self-preservation screamed at me. No, Thyme. Stop talking. He'll get bored.

He swung his legs off the chair. "I'm hungry too," he announced. "Want to get something to eat?"

My brain stalled. "Are you serious? You think I'd go eat with a complete stranger just because he asked?" A rude, arrogant, gorilla-like stranger at that.

"I'm paying," he added, a challenge in his eyes.

Free. Food. The two most beautiful words in existence. My resolve crumbled. He was annoying, yes, but… free food.

"If you don't want to, that's fine," he said, starting to stand up.

Wait!

"Fine!" I blurted out, trying to sound reluctant. "I'll go. But only if you’re treating."

"Okay." A real smile finally broke through his arrogant mask, and it was surprisingly charming. He held out a hand. "I'm Meta."

I hesitated before shaking it. His grip was firm and warm. "Thyme."

He dropped my hand and turned to the stairs. "Lead the way, Thyme. Sounds like that rumbling stomach of yours could use a real meal."

My face flushed again. He was never going to let that go, was he? I glared at his back and sighed. At least there was free food at the end of this. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad.