Room mate

Part 5

Kongpob let out a sigh as his friends and seniors finally left after venting their frustrations on him. He understood he had been reckless and deserved the earful he received. Yet, he couldn't shake the feeling that it was all Arthit's fault—his actions had only followed Arthit's lead.

As he caught his breath, Kongpob first noticed Arthit, who was gently patting his cheeks, calling for him with worry etched across his face. His classmates and seniors swarmed around him. Aim leaned in, asking how he was and how he ended up in this situation, but all Kongpob could do was gaze at Arthit, whose anger and concern were palpable.

Before Kongpob could respond, he saw Jane approaching Arthit, towel in hand, not to offer help but to dry off the wetness from him. A surge of protectiveness flared within Kongpob, and he was about to lash out when Arthit pushed Jane aside forcefully, nearly causing her to stumble. If not for a classmate's quick reflexes, she would have fallen. Arthit stormed past them, shouting to cancel the night party they had planned.

Kongpob still couldn't find his senior, but fatigue washed over him. His eyelids grew heavy, and he succumbed to a much-needed slumber.

But then, a whisper pierced through the haze.

"Bastard..." It was laced with frustration rather than anger. Kongpob felt a soft touch tracing from his nose to his cheeks, moving closer to his ear. He wanted to catch up to Arthit, but if he opened his eyes, he might miss whatever Arthit was up to.

"You always make me dance to your wishes..." Arthit's whisper was slow, almost inaudible, and Kongpob felt like he might miss something important.

A weight settled on his left leg as his senior lay across him, head resting on his chest. The feeling was overwhelming; Kongpob longed to give up his façade and hold Arthit tightly.

"It was much better when you hated me. At least then I knew I didn't stand a chance. Now, every moment scares me—what if something I do makes you hate me again?"

Kongpob felt his shirt growing wet beneath Arthit's tears. He couldn't believe it—Arthit never cried. Or perhaps no one had ever seen him cry.

"Why did you come back, Kongpob...? You had the world at your feet."

Kongpob could have answered, but before he could find the words, Arthit continued, "Maybe Nam was right..." Those words struck Kongpob hard as he pulled Arthit closer, pinning his wrist beneath his hand.

"KONG!!" Arthit warned, still in shock, trying to free himself.

"Why do you always decide on my behalf?" Kongpob shouted in frustration. Everyone seemed ready to dictate his life. He might be young, but he was not stupid. And even if he were, he'd handle it himself.

"I know what's best for me!"

"Leave me, Kong!" Arthit ordered, but Kongpob's anger flared as Arthit continued to ignore him.

"No! You deal with me first, then I'll let you go."

"Kongpob, stop it! I'm warning you! It won't be good for you..."

"It's never good with you!" Kongpob's reply was sharp and unyielding. He knew his words might hurt Arthit, but he was fed up with being sidelined.

In a soft undertone, Arthit added, "I told you so... so does your sister." He hoped the words would shatter Kongpob's infatuation, that he'd realize Arthit wasn't worth the trouble.

But Kongpob's grip loosened, and Arthit suddenly felt unsettled by the change. Kongpob moved off him, sitting at the edge of the bed. The space between them felt like miles. Arthit could see the observant look in Kongpob's eyes, and it terrified him—what was Kongpob finding peace with? The anger had faded, replaced by something more profound.