I SEE SOME UNFAMILIAR CEILINGS. Ah yes, I had no choice but to stick with him last night. Speaking of that night, my annoying headache still hasn’t seemed to be bored with me yet. Come on, it’s been hours already.

While pushing my body up from the bed, I harshly grab my hair and mess with it a little bit to somehow pacify myself.

However, the thought of how I’m now in that guy’s apartment hits me hard in instant.

I shouldn’t look like Simba in front of him. It’s just... inappropriate.

No, this doesn’t necessarily imply that I’m seeing him as a guy. He’s just been helping me a lot, so I don’t want to hurt his eyes with how I look.

I pat my hair to tame its messiness, while scanning around for any elastic to tie my hair.

I know, there’s no way guys have hair ties. But my eyes are seriously seeing a lot of them in a box on a wooden dressing table now. Ow, he’s got his own dressing table? That’s ridic—

I slap my forehead.

I’m well aware that he’s got a “unique” choice of haircut and hairstyle. Everyone has the right for that. No need to act like racists for gender—gender-cists?

So I take one of the ties and randomly tie my hair into a ponytail with it. But, how dare me? What if he doesn’t like it when others touch his things? I should be treating him like a prince, or a king, at least from now on, because of the very huge debt I have from him.

Geez, cringe.

I should just get out of here, quick.

---

“Morning.”

“Uh...good morning.” I’m rubbing the back of my head and my face is twitching; I’m busy collecting myself.

He’s displaying a really bright face combined with a ridiculously neat styled hair, while busily playing with his phone on his tiny-but-fancy dining table. This is more like how guys in movies usually greet the girls.

I believe guys in the real world won’t ever bother taking a shower before their girl wakes up. But this one is looking way too fresh.... and I feel like I’m pulled to him.

“How’s your sleep?” He blurts.

“Heavy.” I walk to him.

“Huh?” He looks up, looking cutely confused.

Ok... not only I’m stunned with that look, but I’m also seeing some pinkish sparkles around his figure; I’m having a serious psychosis, confirmed.

I shake my head.

He’s currently in white tracksuits, while I’m also in a white shirt, of him—just saying—and that gives me shivers because.... oh my gosh, we’re twinning today!

Cringe 2.0

No more alcohol for me, ever.

“Your head, is it still bothering you?” He asks that while still holding his phone in a gaming pose, but the eyes are on me.

Whatever he’s been putting on hold must’ve labeled him as an AFK player by now. I feel guilty for that.

“Yeah.” I blink few times.

Don’t, he’s on AFK—aka very pitiful.

It’s been only a few minutes, but I already cause harm to him.

“No, I mean, it’s good.” I lie.

Since I’m treating him as the king, prince or whatever, I should stop bothering him with my problems.

Ordinary people are unworthy to bother the king.

I'm cringey, confirmed.

“You sure?” He furrows his eyebrows. “I actually bought few hangover medicines for you. Pick the one you like.” He continues, “I also bought this famous hangover soup. I’ve read the testimonies, and they’re all good.” He tugs his bangs behind his ear. Lol that’s one of the signs when humans aren’t sure about something.

But that gets me to have a sudden flashback about how silky his hair and how good it smelled yesterday. I feel like melting internally.

Here’s a great tip for everyone.

Never stick around a nice guy like this, ever, in your life. Or else, you’ll find yourself swooning over every peculiar thing he does soon. The exact time is unknown. But it’ll surely be this extreme and feel so bad—like you have some split personalities.

“So, you’re sleeping outside?” I blurt.

We all know the answer.

“Yeah.” He’s taking a bite of his sandwich. “You actually wanted me to sleep with you?”

I widen my eyes. “You’re kidding me?”

But now that I think about it—

“I...“ Wait, I’m collecting myself. “I should be the one sleeping on the couch.”

He smiles. No, he eye-smiles me.

“Just, take a sit.” He’s pointing to the chair in front of him.

My body just walks to it right away.

He’s too mesmerizing, you know.

But it disappears as I sit there, because the soup’s started emitting a really odd smell. It brings back the memory of how uncomfortable my head was—I was about to 100% move on from the feeling.

Heck, I miss his bed.

“That’s some good hangover soup. I read the testimonies online.”

“You said that already.” I roll my eyes. Split personality. “I mean, no thanks. I’m good.”

“It’s good to ease your heavy feeling.” He gulps. “Probably...”

“See? Still probably.” I pressed my eyes. Girl, control.

“At least there’s a probability in it. Come on. Getting that here was seriously not easy.”

“Fine.” I groan.

“Are you sure you’re good?” He asks.

“Hmm hm.” I’m doing some lone bad eating here, dude.

“Your face,” He’s making a waving gesture in front of his face. “It doesn’t look good at all.” He presses his lips. “Are you in pain somewhere?”

“You can always tell me when you’re not feeling ok. I’m your doctor’s messenger, remember?”

I flash my eyes, startled.

I’m always startled every time he mentioned about the messenger thing, although he’s quite repetitive about it.

I blink many times, very quickly. I’m trying to formulate a proper response.

“Well...” That’s the only thing I could come up with.

“Are you mad at me?” He asks me in a lower volume.

That’s absolutely incorrect, thus I raise an eyebrow and smirk.

But he’ll start thinking about a lot weirder stuff with that.

“Listen, I just made that face because—” I take a deep breath. “Because there’s no way I can be mad at you. You’ve been so angelic to me. I even haven’t thanked you properly, so, thanks—” I press my lips, halting my own self for a few seconds.

“The thing is, I’m having a hard time to find out about how to pay you back. Haha.” I chuckle uneasily.

Those just came out of nowhere. But it’s quite legit.

“And if you’re talking about my face, well this face—” I’m making his gesture earlier. “—will forever look like this. I mean, I do look annoyed most of the time. Haha.”

He’s still furrowing his eyebrows.

I know I should practice my uneasy laugh... and bluff.

“Let’s just say that I’m the kind who wakes up in a very annoying state, every morning.” I add.

 

“And about the medicines, I feel like I can never thank you enough, so thanks again. But I just can’t take anything besides my hand’s medicine. I have to always be cautious. Some doctors specifically warned me not to take any other medicine at all, because they might react with my medicine. You know... if some bad reactions happen, then baam, hospital.”

“Sorry that I didn’t think about that.” He replies, in a devastated tone. I don't feel good about that. He scratches his forehead, then fixes his eyes back to his phone.

“No, it’s cool. The heart is what counts, right?” I blurt. Heart?

“I can still eat the soup though! Yeah, it does taste weird—” STFU!

“B-but it’s fine! I’m eating it, you see.. haha.”

He bites his lower lip, with a totally down face. My heart actually aches to see that.

“By the way, you have classes today?” I try to shift the topic.

Why did I ask that.

“Nope. You?”

“Me too, I guess.” But being here any longer [than this] is unhealthy. I should leave before the sparkles I’m seeing turn into unicorns.

“What is the name of this apartment?” I slide my phone open.

“Why? You’re planning to buy one?” Is he being sarcastic?

“Nope. I’m ordering Uber.”

“I can drive you there. Where do you wanna go?”

“Home?”

“No problem.”

“N-no, thanks.” I squint.

“Come on, is it that hard to accept my... someone else's help?” He raises his tone a bit. Is he mad? People should be happy when others refuse to bother them, right?

“Haha, I mean, you’re totally free to choose.” He adds.

“Ah.... ok, thanks.”

“But at least, finish the soup before you leave.” He smiles.

“Ok...” I chuckle uneasily.

Should I just bring this soup to the bathroom and throw it to the closet? No, that’s too ridiculous.

Should I act like I incidentally drop it on the floor? Still ridiculous.

Should I drop it to my pants instead—

“Are you full?” He asks.

Hey, that will work!

I wonder why I couldn’t come up with that by myself.

“Uhh, yes, I guess. Haha. So, can I not eat the rest?”

“Why are you asking me, it’s yours.”

---

“By the way, how was I last night?”

He gulps.

“Wait,” I furrow my eyebrows, then start glaring at him. “What did you do?”

“N-nothing.”

“Spill it.”

“Huh? Spill what?”

“What happened last night? Duh?”

“W-well... are you sure you can’t remember everything? You actually talked so much to me.”

“If I know everything, I’ll not ask you. Duh.”

“This is weird. How can you not remember a thing when you looked so normal last night?” He blinks many times, confused.

If, something really happened between us last night, I can’t just recklessly put the blame on him. What if I was so crazy that I initiated everything?

But hopefully not.

I still have some faith in myself.

“Ok, you know what? You don’t have to tell me everything.” Because I might faint by that—if there’s actually that. “Just say what I need to know.”

He clears his throat. “So... you told me the story about how you got your injury, and—“ He darts his eyes around. “I think that’s it.”

“Really?” I raised an eyebrow. “If that’s really it, then why did you pause in the middle?”

“You kind of had some kind of mood swings last night.”

That still doesn’t ring a bell in my head, though.

I stare at his clothes that I’m wearing, trying to figure what had possibly happened.

“But, it’s not like what you’re thinking.” He blurts.

I look up to him, my eyes flash. I’m shocked with my own thought; I’m thinking about several possible incidents between me and him, starting from the beautiful ones to the scary ones.

“So you actually asked me for my pants, but I also gave you my shirt— “

ADNIJSIJQSOIQIOJSIOJSOIAJOISJOI

“WHAT THE ?!” My eyes are so widened. “THAT'S SO BIZARRE WHY DIDN'T YOU REFUSE MY ING IDIOTIC REQUEST?"

He sticks his tongue out then bites it. His eyes are also widened. He seems to be as shocked as I am.

I start pressing my eyes and cover my face with my palms.

 

"No, listen. Of course I didn't give you what I was wearing."

"You asked me for an extra pair of pants, and I gave you that plus an extra shirt."

I let out a heavy sigh, in relief.

"So nobody stripped last night. Thank God."

"About that..." He blinks many times.

I don’t want to hear more.

“You know what, I'm not that curious anyway. Let’s never talk about this."

He takes a deep breath.

“Alright.” He mutters.