This week, Yen's class had a physical education session combined with students from other majors, so the back court behind Building E began to get crowded.
Her roommate — Vy — was outgoing and always had an eye for "school heartthrobs." That day, the moment she returned to their room, she grabbed Yen’s hand, eyes sparkling like flashlights:
“Hey! There’s a guy practicing basketball out back who looks super cool. I heard he’s from the graphic design department. Let’s go watch! Come on, come on!”
Yen usually didn’t care much about things like that, but for some reason, she nodded.
Maybe because the name Thien Duy had randomly popped up a few times in Vy’s stories.
Maybe because her heart was quietly curious.
Or… maybe she just wanted to try stepping out of her shell — just once.
Before going out, Yen sat in front of the mirror for a long while.
She didn’t know how to wear makeup, but she still dabbed a bit of blush, applied some lip balm, and brushed her hair neatly.
She looked at herself in the mirror and smiled softly:
“Not bad.”
But when she stood in the stands, watching Thien Duy actually play — his hair damp with sweat, eyes focused, tall figure moving across the court — her heart began to tremble again.
She didn’t dare sit close. Didn’t dare approach.
Instead, she quietly placed the cold water bottle she had prepared on a nearby bench and turned to leave.
"He probably won’t know who left it anyway."
Yen silently walked away.
Still her usual half-hearted, hesitant actions — but for someone who always avoided everything, this was progress.
That night, Thien Duy casually scrolled through Facebook while waiting for a song to load.
He noticed a strange name pop up in the friend suggestions — "Minh Yen." Out of curiosity, he tapped on it.
At first, he didn’t recognize who it was.
The profile picture was a lazy cartoon cat, the cover photo a sunset sky — no face, no clear identity.
But as he opened the photo album, he couldn’t help but chuckle.
There was one photo of her dozing off on her desk — cheeks puffed, face buried in her sleeve, looking like a middle schooler.
Another showed her biting her lip while chopping vegetables, face focused like she was performing surgery.
There was even one taken from the side while she was painting — fingers smudged with color, and a red streak across her cheek from accidentally rubbing her lips.
No one else gave off such a vibe of "genuinely adorable."
No posing. No filters.
Just living — quietly, gently.
Thien Duy exited the profile after a few minutes, but didn’t delete the history.
He didn’t like anything. Didn’t send a friend request.
But… a name had started to linger in his mind:
Minh Yen.
A petite girl, easily flustered, and perhaps… the one who left that cold bottle of water beside his seat.
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