Made For You.

Why Him?

Kongpob was the last one, to pull out the piece of paper from the glass bowl. Hoping that the number which is written inside, is different from the one written in his paper. He had no other choice, only one piece was left, he must pick that up.

Kongpob had faced enough of this particular senior. Listened to enough of his taunts, about Kong's clumsiness, over the days that followed, the incident.

The days after Kongpob had successfully managed to tumble over and ultimately pour his aesthetically cool iced Americano from his hands, upon the sheets of paper, on which Arthit had done week-long research, for his term project.

Kongpob could swear, he feared for his ears at that moment, hoping for the eardrums to not burst with the intensity of vibrations that were released from Arthit's sinfully furious mouth.

Leaving his own assignments, Kongpob was forced to help Arthit, complete his project. He did not know, he would ever be hating being in anyone's company, but boy was he so wrong. When Arthit didn't miss a chance to remind Kongpob about his inattentive behavior. His carelessness. Being with Arthit helped him believe that hell exists on earth itself, cause one small mistake, and boom, the hour-long session will follow next.

Kongpob sometimes would be jealous, as Arthit will behave sweet and smiley with his other juniors, while cruel with Kongpob, why? Cause they didn't spoil his hard work, Kongpob.

Kong walked back to his spot, not ready to open his paper and have a look inside. He was having a very terrible gut feeling. The intuition that he was going to be stuck in huge chaos, broke him into mild sweats.

He crumbled the poor piece in his fist, looking over to see if Arthit, who stood at the other corner, has found his partner. Kongpob observed that Arthit had a smile lingering on his pale face, forcing the dimple to highlight on his cheeks. This made him relax for a moment.

Kongpob swallowed, seems like Arthit is not aware of his presence yet. He stepped back, when the students scrambled over, searching for their respective partners. He waited for quite good minutes, hoping someone would match his number, anyone but Arthit.

Arthit had enough, he searched for his match, but was not found. He walked in front of the small podium. Watching the chit-chatter of the pairs. Where the fuck was his partner?

He banged his palm on the desk, causing the empty glass bowl to dance a little. Arthit scanned over to see if any lone person is present.

"Attention!" Arthit roars, causing all the eyes in the hall to focus on him. "Who has number seven? Care to raise your hand?"

Kongpob knew god hated him, but not to this extent! He closed his eyes, hanging his head, while timidly raising his hand, holding the wrinkled piece of paper.

Arthit tilted slightly to get a better view, only for his mind to trigger aloud. He didn't have any idea of Kongpob enrolling his name for the photography contest, while Arthit enrolled to be the model.

This junior was surely dancing on his throbbing nerves.

Apparently, the whole campus had the idea of their antipathy. However, Arthit didn't want to outset a fresh clash, at least not now. He gritted his teeth, making his way over to Kongpob.

Arthit poised in front of Kongpob, forcefully taking the paper and checking the number once again. "Why it had to be you?"

Fuck you, Rojnapat. Kong guiltily shakes his head, as if it's his fault. "I'm sorry."

Fuck you too, Sutthiluck. Arthit forced a smile, bitterly shaking Kong's hand. "Nevermind."

"I hope everyone got their lucky match..." The student organizer voiced. "Make sure to capture all of the university's facilities... You all are given three weeks to work for the contest... Note that the works submitted after the fourth week won't be accepted, as already announced beforehand... I wish you all the luck. And Thank you."