Strange Feeling

"I'm not defending him because he's a friend of mine," Max snapped sharply. "I don't even know who he was and what he did. I defended him because what you were doing was unfair and cowardly. How many of you? Twelve and you guys ganged up on one? Tsk tsk tsk, shameless!"

“He's flirting with my friend's girlfriend, Max,” Pete hissed as he glared at Ken with a piercing glare.

Max laughed amusedly. "Are you sure that's how it happened? Do you have any evidence? What if your friend's girlfriend thrusts herself into him?"

“There's no way my girlfriend is like that,” one of the several men behind Pete snapped. He had bruises on his face and his nose was bleeding.

"Yeah? How are you sure? Pete said you looked for your girlfriend to her dorm, but she wasn't there and you found your girlfriend drinking with Ken at the bar. What kind of girl goes to the bar secretly to drink with other guys?" Max asked, snorting sarcastically. "If it's true that Ken flirted with your girlfriend, why didn't you confront him right away where when you found them and instead cowardly attack him later?"

Pete turned and looked at his friend. "Call your girlfriend and ask her where she went after you took her back to the dorm this afternoon?"

"But Pete--"

"Ask and turn on the speaker!" Pete hissed.

Pete's friend took his phone. "Babe?"

"Yeah, Baby, what's wrong? Why call so late at night?" said a girl who answered his phone call.

"Hey Babe, are you asleep? I thought I saw you at the bar a while ago."

"Don't make it up. I have a headache and haven't left my room at all since school this afternoon when you dropped me home. I have a lot of work to do and I never go to a bar without you or my friends. You must be wrong--"

Pete took the phone from his friend and turned it off. His friend looks so pale. Pete looked at Max.

"I'm sorry for this misunderstanding, Max, and especially Ken. I will pay whatever compensation you ask for as well as medical expenses for your injuries," said Pete.

Max chuckled and turned to Ken. "Are you going to sue them?" Max asked.

Pete and his friends waited tensely, as Ken put his hands on his waist and looked at them one by one. Ken shook his head.

"No. They seem to be in a worse state than ours. However, I will remember you and what you did tonight," Ken hissed coldly.

He stared intently at Pete and his friends, memorizing their faces one by one. He wasn't vindictive, but he wasn't one to forget easily either.

Max tapped Ken's shoulder lightly.

"Go on, Pete, and take care of your men. I'm not beating you all up, considering we were from the same high school and we've always had a good relationship. However, you should know, I hate unbalanced fights and unprovoked attacks," said Max with a serious face and fierce starred.

“Yeah, Max, I know. I'm sorry,” Pete said with an uncomfortable look on his face. "We're sorry, Kevien."

He turned to his friends and motioned for them to back off. Max and Ken stood side by side watching the attackers leave, some of them limping and supporting each other.

Ken immediately collapsed onto the cement floor of the basketball court and lay limply. Max followed suit.

"Hey, Max, thanks for helping me. I don't know what would have happened if you weren't there," Ken said as he turned to Max who was lying beside him.

Max chuckled. "Looking at the way you fight, you're pretty good and even on your own, I think you can handle them pretty well," Max replied as he turned to Ken. "You're good at martial arts. It was taekwondo, was it?"

"Hm. That's not as great as you did. What was that? I never saw the moves you made. You beat them with one punch and they fell like dry twigs."

"I studied several martial art, mainly silat, since childhood. It is a martial art from Indonesia which is considered deadly because its movements are fast and strong. One of my aunts married an Indonesian man and he is a coach for national silat athletes. I studied Muay Thai, and Judo, too."

"Wow. That's so cool. Its so ... you."

Max laughed and got up from his reclining position, sitting cross-legged facing Ken. He reached out and rubbed the corner of Ken's bruised lips.

"This needs to be treated immediately. These bruises will ruin your handsome face, Ken."

Ken looked at Max, stunned. Max touched his cheek and the side of his forehead. "Where do you live?"

"Hmm?" mumbled Ken. "I live in the 9th dorm."

"Hey, that's close to me. I live in the 7th dorm," Max said. He stood up and brushed his pants off the dust, then held out his hand to Ken. "Let's go home. I'll escort you in the back of your car to your dorm."

Ken reached out and stood with Max holding his hand tightly. Ken looks at Max's hand and is surprised to see some of Max's fingers are scratched and bleeding. "Oh, your hand bleeding."

Max looked at his hands and laughed. "It's nothing. Tomorrow or the day after it will heal by itself."

"How could that be," said Ken. He let go of Max's hand. "You have a supply of medicine in your room?" Ken asked.

Max shook his head. Ken chuckles. "As I thought! Then you should come to my room first. I'll treat your wound first."

"But this--"

"Let's go," Ken cut in and pushed Max off the basketball court. Max didn't say anything else and complied with Ken, following him to the 9th dorm and parking his motorbike in the resident's parking lot next to Ken's car.

"Your motorbike is so beautiful. I've always wanted to ride a motorbike like this," said Ken after getting out of his car. He stroked Max's motorbike beside his car, a Ducati.

"You've never ridden a motorcycle?" Max asked.

"No. My mother forbade any kind of motorcycle for me to ride."

"Huh? Why? I prefer to ride a motorbike than a car. It's faster and more practical."

"My father was paralyzed after his motorbike collided with a truck."

Max suddenly stopped walking, causing Ken to look back in confusion. "Why stop? My room is on the second floor."

"I'm sorry," Max said with a confused face. "I didn't know your father--"

Ken was stunned for a moment, then laughed. "Hey, it's nothing. It was a long time ago. My father is also fine now, although he had to be in a wheelchair until now."

Max followed Ken's light steps to his room, wondering how he could tell the tragic incident that had happened to his father in such a light tone. Is he heartless?

"Come on in and sit on the couch while I get the medicine box in the bathroom."

Ken opened the door to his room and let Max in. Max takes off his shoes in the short corridor before entering the main room.

The size and basic shape of the odd-numbered dorm rooms are all the same. One bedroom with glass doors opening onto a small balcony, one bathroom, a small kitchen that joins the dining room with a small table and a pair of dining chairs and a spacious living room.

What distinguishes each room is the arrangement of the rooms and the type of furniture that fills them, because the rooms are all rented out empty.

Odd number dorm rooms are bigger than even number dorm rooms and the rent is also more expensive. Looking at the way Ken arranges his room and the furniture he uses is definitely not low quality at a cheap price, Ken is definitely not an ordinary student.

Ken's room is dominated by white and very pale light blue. The furniture used is also the same color, except for the sofa chairs and the carpet underneath which is navy. He chose an elegant modern minimalist style.

Ken went into the bathroom and came out again with a large white box in his hand. He sat down next to Max and took his hand.

"You need to treat wounds like this immediately so they don't become infected," Ken said as he cleaned Max's hands with a warm, damp towel.

Max grimaced at the sight of his hands being cleaned, then his gaze fell on Ken who was looking down.

Max thought how thick and long Ken's eyelashes were, which quivered as he blinked. And this scent. Sweet and creamy vanilla.

Max's free hand touched Ken's brown hair, thick and silky. "Your hair is smooth and smells good," Max muttered subconsciously.

Ken was stunned and looked up, looking at Max who was also looking at him. After a while, Ken looked down again and finished his work of treating Max's hand.

"Done," Ken said as he let go of Max's hand. "You should keep a medicine box in your room, Max. I heard engineering kids get hurt easily."

Max chuckled. "Now I have a friend who is a medical student and I don't need a medicine box. I can come to you if I get hurt."

Ken patted Max lightly on the shoulder. "Okay, you can come to me anytime you're hurt and feeling sick. I'll treat you until you're healed. It's free!"

Max laughed and took another clean towel in the bowl of warm water. He grabbed Ken's chin with his hand and held it with his index finger.

"You should be treated too. This bruise will hurt tomorrow."

"I have the cure. Medical students shouldn't fight or at least if they fight they shouldn't leave scars."

Max applies the ointment that Ken gave him, on the bruises on Ken's face. He stared intently at Ken's face, who closed his eyes as he applied the ointment.

"Done," Max said. He glanced at the clock on the wall. "It's past midnight. I have to go home. I have to come to campus at six in the morning for ESO," Max said hastily. "Thanks for the medicine, Ken."

"Thanks to you too. I'll treat you to lunch the day after tomorrow, if you don't mind. I don't have class today."

"Sure, Ken. I'm leaving now."

Max came out of Ken's room and walked quickly to the parking lot. He stood motionless next to his motorbike, staring at his hand which was being treated by Ken.

In his room, Ken stood leaning against the door, clutching his hair.

Strange, why is his heart beating so hard?