charades
@mcsnryts
After dinner, the group moved inside. The night had deepened, and mosquitoes were starting to get bold outside.
“Okay, guys, laro daw tayo. Bagong-bago ’to. Walang nakakagawa,” Kairo announced, his voice full of showmanship, like a mini-host on live TV.
“What game?” Dominic asked, sliding onto the couch beside Yves. He had just dropped the evening’s biggest bomb—mentioning Nina, Saint’s ex—but it lingered in the air, almost like smoke.
“Charades,” Kairo said with a grin.
Yves barely had time to process before Saint shifted beside him, nudging his legs aside without asking and settling in. He looked annoyingly composed, a faint glow on his face, like he had just come from some little “bebe time” moment. Yves felt a sting—“annoyance” twisting quietly inside him.
“What’s this? What are we gonna do?” Saint leaned in, voice low, directed only at Yves.
“Tanong mo kay Ni—Nika.” Yves nearly let the words slip but caught himself just in time.
Saint’s brows furrowed slightly, scanning him, but he said nothing.
“Okay, sa Charades na ’to, magkakateam na yung tatlong magkakatabi,” Kairo announced, slipping fully into MC mode.
The lineup was set: Yves and Saint—on the same team, unfortunately for Yves—with Dominic.
“Okay, start na tayo!” Kairo clapped, and the game began.
The room filled with laughter, frustrated groans, and playful jokes. For a moment, it felt like they were back in their old classroom, with all its chaos and comfort. But Yves couldn’t shake the irritation simmering inside him. Saint’s calm, smug composure was a low hum of “annoyance” against Yves’s nerves.
Dominic went first. He held up a finger—one word, English—then wrapped his arms around himself, shivering dramatically.
“Frozen!” Saint shouted immediately.
“Correct!” Kairo confirmed, clapping.
“You should guess too,” Saint added casually to Yves, voice teasing, but the edge in it made Yves’s eye twitch. Para bang hinahamon siya nito.
“I am guessing,” Yves muttered under his breath, irritated.
Guessing who the fuck is Nina—he thought.
Then it was Saint’s turn. Two fingers—two words. He pressed his fist to his chest, then spread his arms wide, mock shock frozen across his face.
“Tangina, ano 'yan?” Dominic asked, leaning forward, reading the actions.
Before Yves could stop himself, he muttered, “I’m so excited for this to end so I can go back.”
A pause. Saint froze, eyes flicking toward him, confused. “Hindi naman two words 'yun ah.” Dominic blinked, even more confused.
“What?” Yves shrugged, feigning innocence. “I’m guessing.”
Saint continued acting, ignoring him—deliberate, still patient.
“My Ex and Whys,” Yves said flatly.
“Ang layo naman nun sa action ni Saint, nak,” Kairo commented, chuckling but raising an eyebrow.
Saint didn’t react; he only kept acting, his gaze flickering to Yves, almost as if asking what he was doing.
“A Second Chance,” Yves offered next, tone clipped. Something unspoken passed between them, electric and sharp.
“Inside Out!” Dominic shouted, snapping his fingers.
“Correct!” Kairo confirmed.
Now it was Yves’s turn. He stood and walked to the center, ignoring the subtle pinch Saint gave his side. He raised two fingers.
“Two words, English,” Kairo narrated.
“Matilda? Ay, two words pala… The Matilda?” Dominic guessed, furrowing his brows.
“Ra ulo,” Kairo muttered under his breath, shaking his head.
Yves began acting out the movie Home Alone, crouching, tiptoeing, and mimicking booby traps with exaggerated, precise gestures. His performance was deliberate, sharp, and unmistakably the real movie—but his eyes darted toward Saint the entire time, a subtle challenge hiding behind the acting.
Saint leaned in slightly, a smirk forming, and began signing along—but not the movie. Subtle, teasing, deliberate.
“Second Place?” he signed dramatically, eyes locked on Yves.
It was Saint’s turn to bite back, a faint spark of challenge in every gesture, a silent counter to Yves’s provocation.
“May ganoong movie?” Dominic asked, genuinely confused, turning to Kairo.
“High Ego?” Saint signed next, tilting his head in mock-dramatic fashion. “Blind?”
Kairo darted his gaze between Yves and Saint. This… was getting spicy. Something unspoken simmered in the air, and the two of them weren’t exactly just playing a game.
Pang-popcorn na 'to, Kairo thought.
Yves stiffened, chest tightening, but he continued performing Home Alone, crouching behind imaginary furniture, tiptoeing, throwing pretend paint cans, every movement deliberate—both as a real movie performance and a subtle rebuttal to Saint’s teasing.
“Home Alone?” Dominic finally blurted out, relief and exasperation mingling in his voice.
“Tama,” Kairo confirmed, still glancing at Yves and Saint with a hint of curiosity—and unease—on his face.
It was Saint’s turn to act again. Yves sat stiffly on the sofa directly in front of him, eyes locked on every movement. Each gesture Saint made was precise—he was signing the real movie—but Yves’s mind translated it differently. Every sweep of the arms, every expressive look became a subtle jab.
He fired back with his guesses, sharp and deliberate: “No Goodbyes… Runaway… Coward.” The words weren’t about the movie—they were about Saint, about everything Yves had stored up since the past.
Dominic, still genuinely trying, squinted at Saint’s actions. “Uh… Fast and Furious?” he ventured.
“Omsim,” Kairo confirmed, though his laughter faltered as he glanced between Yves and Saint. Something unspoken had taken over the room.
A quiet tension wrapped around the room. The others froze mid-laugh, confused, unsure—were Yves and Saint actually arguing, or was this some unspoken, charged game only the two of them understood?
The atmosphere thickened, playful laughter now awkward as the unspoken truths lingered in their gestures and glances. What's high school without Yves and Saint's arguments—the thought almost wrote itself into the room's rhythm.
Tumahimik ang lahat—ramdam na may tagong meaning ang sagot ng dalawa. Kahit sina Diego at iba pang mga kasama napatigil sa mga usapan nila.
A few more rounds passed until time ran out. Saint finally stopped acting, lowering his hands and smirking faintly, eyes flicking toward Yves with that familiar spark of challenge.
“Naka five points kayo,” Kairo announced.
Paupo pa lang si Saint nang bumuzz ang kanyang phone. He picked it up and answered, standing.
“I’ll be back in a sec, love,” he muttered, voice casual but just enough for Yves to feel the sting. Then he walked toward the parking area, leaving Yves sitting stiffly, trying to calm the storm of emotions he didn’t want anyone else to see.
Dominic and Kairo exchanged a glance.
“Uh… ayos lang ba sila?” Dominic whispered, mostly to himself.
Kairo shrugged, unsure. The game continued around them, but the unspoken tension—and the quiet, complicated connection between Yves and Saint—had shifted the room into something else entirely: awkward… pero halos sanay na lahat sa bangayan ng dalawa.