Red Strings

Chapter Three

Satang barged into their dorm, his face flushed and his steps hurried. His breathing was uneven, and he was clearly in full panic mode. Behind him, Marc trudged in, rubbing his temples, still dealing with a lingering headache from the chaotic night before.

"Ai Marc!" Satang hissed, spinning around to face his friend. "Did you seriously let me sleep with him?!"

Marc, who was clearly not in the mood for theatrics, groaned as he dropped onto the couch. "Ai Satang, calm down. My head still hurts," he muttered, reaching for a water bottle on the table. "And no, I didn't let you do anything. You passed out, remember?"

Satang ran his hands through his hair, pacing the room. "But you didn't even try to stop me? Or... or take me with you?! How could you just leave me there?"

Marc raised an eyebrow, giving him a half-amused, half-annoyed look. "You were fine, okay? You were so comfortable, I figured it was better to let you sleep. Plus, Winny didn't seem to mind. In fact..." Marc smirked mischievously. "He seemed pretty okay with you staying."

Satang's face turned an even deeper shade of red. "What is that supposed to mean?!"

Marc leaned back against the couch, waving him off lazily. "I don't know, you tell me. You're the one who woke up next to him, not me."

Satang froze, his mind flashing back to the moment he'd woken up just hours ago. The sunlight had been streaming through the curtains, and the first thing he'd seen was Winny's peaceful face, mere inches from his own. He'd realized, with a jolt of both horror and thrill, that his arm had still been draped around Winny's waist. Winny had even smiled at him groggily, his voice soft as he said, "Good morning."

The memory sent Satang into another spiral. "Ai Marc! I can never show my face to him again!" he exclaimed, dropping onto the floor dramatically.

Marc rolled his eyes, taking a sip of water. "Relax, you're overreacting. If anything, this is your chance to, you know, talk to him properly. Maybe he won't bite," he added with a teasing grin.

Satang glared at him from the floor, his panic morphing into embarrassment. "You don't get it..."

Marc chuckled, leaning forward. "Oh, I do get it. You've got it bad for him, my friend. And now, thanks to me, you're practically halfway there."

"You're the worst," Satang groaned, burying his face in his hands as Marc burst out laughing, clearly enjoying his torment.

Satang spent his entire weekend in a whirlwind of what-ifs and overthinking. He lay sprawled on his bed, staring at the ceiling as his mind replayed every possible scenario for Monday.

What if he bumped into Winny on campus? Would Winny smile at him like he did that morning? Or worse, what if he teased him about it? Satang groaned, turning over and burying his face in his pillow. Why did I let this happen?

Even mundane tasks turned into opportunities for overthinking. While brushing his teeth, he wondered, What if I run into him at the cafeteria? Do I pretend like nothing happened? What if he says something in front of everyone?

Marc wasn't helping either. Every now and then, he'd stroll into Satang's room, arms crossed, smirking knowingly. "Still thinking about him, huh?" he teased. In annoyance, Satang just threw a pillow to him. 

***

It was already Monday, and the campus buzzed with the usual morning chatter as students rushed to their respective classes. Satang, however, lingered near the entrance, trying to calm his racing heart. He inhaled deeply, whispering to himself, "Don't think too much, Satang. You got this." With a final steadying breath, he stepped forward, ready to tackle the day.