Throughout his dating life, Sky had only been with the opposite gender. All his twenty-five years, he had assumed he was straight.

It was with that expectation that he thought it was an awful prank when he walked into the faculty room and found another man at the end of his own string.

It was for that reason that he had been too frustrated to stop himself from blurting out, "I like women."

He had not meant to come off as an asshole. But fate had been messing up his romance for so long that he had had enough of its jokes.

It was a second later that he realized he might have taken his disappointment out on the wrong person. He had figured out while getting closer to him earlier that they might be the same, that this guy might also have the ability to see the invisible strings, judging by the way his gaze had kept flicking between their little fingers. On that account, he too might have been despairing at the hands of this absurdity for years.

Sky wanted to apologize, but the words of regret died on the tip of his tongue as he watched a flare of emotion flash in the person's light brown eyes. It definitely wasn't a glint of amusement, but more like a spark of irritation.

"Good for you," he said, his tone too pleasant to be genuine, while a corner of his mouth curled up into a smile. Courteous but icy.

The guy turned his head away from him and opened the desk drawer to reveal a few old stationery items that were probably left behind by the former owner.

Not bothering to move away, Sky regarded the guy who started to take things out of the drawer. Boxes of staples and empty ballpoint pens clattered as they got sorted on the table.

It went on for about a minute until his hand stopped moving and the rustles came to a halt.

All pretense of politeness had been abandoned when the new faculty member faced the assistant professor. Raising a perfectly lined brow, he asked, "Do you need something else? Are you perhaps waiting for me to applaud you for, I don't know, being into women?"

Sassy. Sky had never imagined he would be hiding this much willfulness under his delicate appearance when he had chanced upon him gaping at his arrival. This guy was obviously a head shorter, yet he had no problem staring him down.

Deciding not to fight fire with another, Sky diverted the subject. "You're the new instructor, aren't you? Can I get your name?"

A sigh came along with a roll of his eyes. "John Paul Nieves. What are you going to do with it, Mr. De Vera? Report me to your grandmother and father?"

Intrigue caused a brow of his own to shoot up. So this John Paul Nieves had prior knowledge about him. The fact that it didn't daunt him at all only piqued his curiosity about the guy.

Sky took a moment to give him a once-over before his eyes settled back on his unimpressed expression. John Paul Nieves really had a soft feature that even his deep scowl had failed to mask.

"You can see them too, can't you?" Sky asked, dodging the other man's question for the second time, "These ridiculous strings."

"I certainly can," John Paul answered; his words were curt, but the intensity in his gaze seemed to ask, 'So what?'

"I just want you to know now that I don't believe in this whole destiny nonsense, and I don't have any plans to go along with it."

"Fair enough. Then, let's just both agree to pretend that these things don't exist."

Surprised by the response, Sky frowned. "You're not going to debate it?"

A mirthless smirk crossed the young instructor's mouth as he scrutinized Sky through narrowed eyes.

"You already made your stand on this situation perfectly clear, Mr. De Vera," he replied in a taut voice, "And I'm saying I respect it. Or what? Do you expect me to get on my knees and beg you to reconsider?"

A pause. John Paul pressed his lips into a tight line before he turned back to his table. He pulled the swivel chair out, the faint rattle of the casters piercing the silence.

He sat down and, without sparing Sky another glance, added more quietly, "I'm not going to hide the fact that I'm attracted to men. But I'm not so desperate that I'd go after just anyone, especially someone who had implicitly declared to my face that he doesn't want to have anything to do with me."

"Hey, Sky, have you heard about the bar and grill in front of the Go-Kart Park?"

There was no time for another tense silence to build up as an older man barged into the room, practically yelling.

"A lot of people are saying they have great barbeques and seafood there. The guys and I just planned on checking it out later after work." The man trailed off at the sight of another person in the faculty room. His eyes widened with recognition. "Oh, you must be the new instructor. I heard from our dean that you're joining us today. You're..."

"John Paul Nieves," the new instructor supplied with a smile before getting to his feet. "You can call me JP."

Sky's mouth twitched, a morsel of annoyance pricking him, as he witnessed the swift change in John Paul's demeanor.

"Oh, JP, right. I'm Dion Mendez. You can just call me Dion too," the older man introduced. He stepped closer to JP and offered a handshake, which the latter promptly accepted with both hands.

"And this uptight man here is Sky De Vera. I assume you already know that anyway. He's the future heir of this university. Just a little too serious, but he's a nice person. I wouldn't mind having him as my boss in the future, even though I'm his senior. Right, Sky?"

Unsure what he found more grating—John Paul's sudden affability or Dion's prattle—Sky glowered at their interaction. His exasperation increased once he noticed John Paul giving him a skeptical look, as though he doubted what Dion had said about him being a decent person. He supposed that was to be expected, considering he hadn't exactly given him the best first impression. Still, he felt offended.

Heedless of the two younger educators' outstaring, Dion patted John Paul's shoulder and rambled on, "So, JP, good timing. We were just talking about having drinks after work. Why don't you come along too? Don't worry. It would be totally on us. Take it as our welcome treat for you. What do you say? Let's celebrate. Hey, why are you not answering, man?"

You didn't give him a chance to. Sky groaned inwardly. The older professor had been his friend since he had started his teaching career here at SDV University, but no matter how many years they had and would spend in each other's company, Sky didn't think he could ever get used to Dion's noise.

"Can I really go with you guys?" John Paul wanted to know. His smile became timid. Hesitance took over his expression.

"Of course! You're like a younger brother to us now. So that's a deal. We're meeting at eight o'clock." Dion turned to Sky like he was just remembering he was there as well. "You too. I'm expecting you to come. I have to go for now."

He spun on his heels without waiting for any confirmation from either Sky or JP. As abruptly as he had appeared, Dion exited the room, leaving an awkward atmosphere in his wake.

"Are you not busy, Mr. De Vera? Don't you have better things to do than stand there?"

Sky returned his attention to JP and saw how displeasure was coloring the younger man's eyes amber. Like molten rocks.

Right then, he determined that John Paul Nieves was a volcano. Either active or dormant, but definitely not extinct. And Sky suspected he was the earthquake that had triggered a quiet eruption.

"This is my work desk," Sky declared, pulling the office chair from the table next to John Paul's.

He settled himself and assumed the act of inputting something important into his laptop. In reality, all he did during the first couple of minutes was open a typing test website and measure his current speed. He had been allotting at least ten minutes every day in practicing to improve his typing skills because he knew it would help him be more productive at work, especially when preparing his written reports. His aim was at least sixty words per minute, and he could barely hit forty when he was just beginning.

A sense of achievement rose in his chest when he entered the last word and the result flashed on the screen. 51 WPM. Still far from the goal. But already far from the starting point.

Contented, Sky closed the website. He reached for the stack of papers from the corner of his desk and opened the spreadsheet to update his second-year students' grades based on their latest long quiz.

The tap-tapping of the keyboard drowned out the murmurs in the background. Sky immersed himself in his task, and for a moment, he had forgotten about the other person in the room.

Until, a crash.

He looked to his side, just in time for John Paul to bend down and pick up a hole punch from the floor. If JP noticed Sky's stare at him, he ignored it and went on examining the object.

The assistant professor observed that the creases in between the younger man's brows deepened when the puncher didn't work on scratch paper. As John Paul put the hole punch down, Sky caught a glimpse of a black fountain pen and a red, thick notebook with pages marked with colorful tab stickers on his table.

"That thing's old," Sky said, referring to the paper puncher. He pried his eyes away from John Paul and resumed recording his students' grades. "It's bound to be broken sooner, so don't fret about it. Just surrender it to the inventory. And if you need more stuff to help you with your work, you can inform Angela. She's the one in charge of collating the whole faculty's request for office items and forwarding them to the Supply Department."

Sky gave John Paul a sidelong glance, shifted his gaze to the fountain pen on the table, and added, "Also, if that pen is something valuable for you, I advise you not to bring it out here in the office."

A frown rested on John Paul's face. Not out of hostility, Sky could tell, but out of curiosity. The assistant professor could almost see question marks floating in the Philosophy instructor's eyes.

Sky swiveled his chair to face John Paul better. "Even if this is your first official job, you've done some internships, right? Were you not made aware of the cases of missing pens in work places?"

JP didn't say a word, and Sky took it as a good sign to engage in some small talk.

"This office is no exception and not impervious to those incidences. Leave your pen on your table for a minute, and it's gone the second you come back for it."

John Paul's expression softened. His lips curved upward. And Sky convinced himself that his heart didn't leap out of his chest. He was just startled when the string tightened around his little finger, reminding him of what he and this person in front of him were supposed to be. What destiny was asking them to be.

"I suppose that makes sense," John Paul said, picking up the fountain pen from the table and inspecting it, "I think I might have heard the stories but never paid much thought to them because my duties as an intern didn't involve using pens. Just the usual errands. Photocopying, stapling documents, bringing them to someone."

Sky could have stuck to this trivial conversation. He could have stayed in his lane and let this first meeting end on a positive note. It could have been his perfect chance to properly apologize for acting like a jerk earlier.

But there was something wrong today. With him. With everything. His tongue was loose. He couldn't keep his thoughts to himself.

"Are you sure you want to go with those guys?" he asked, thinking back to Dion's invitation, "They are not a bad bunch, but I just want to let you know that they are heavy drinkers."

John Paul tensed up. His shoulders stiffened. His fingers froze around the pen. And the whole reaction didn't escape Sky, subtle though it was.

When the younger man answered, his voice was guarded once again, "I appreciate the heads up, but I think I'll be fine. I'm pretty confident I can also hold my liquor."

Deep down, Sky knew that the best thing he could do in this situation was to restrain himself from provoking the other person any further. But humans were proud creatures who found it more difficult to shut up than it was to check themselves.

And ultimately, the heir of SDV University was just another stubborn human being.

"I heard from Dr. Rhoda that you just arrived here in the city a few weeks ago. I don't think it's a good idea for you to go drinking with people you don't know very well, let alone in a place you're not familiar with."

"With all due respect, Mr. De Vera—" John Paul spun on his seat, and the chair rattled. Even then, the stress in his words stood out. "I've just met you a while ago too, and I don't understand what gave you the impression that you can have a say about what I do with my life. And you said it yourself, they're not bad people."

Sky was going to explain that he was not being nosy, but stopped when even his mind began questioning his defense.

What do you call this if not being nosy? Concerned? But what do you care?

"What's it to you?" John Paul seemed to echo his thoughts.

Exactly. What was it to him? What was this person to him? Soul mate? What rubbish. He had never bought into this farce for years; he was not going to buy into it now.

"Suit yourself then," Sky muttered finally, defeated, and went back to his work.

It was better this way. He could mind his own business. He could do that. Treat John Paul as what he actually was in his life. New acquaintance. Coworker. No other strings attached.

However, Sky figured the plan was doomed the moment he thought, 'At least I'd be there and could look after him.'