LIAH 22. You Said You Were Sleeping in the Dorm

Why do people act cold after sleeping with you?

The blank white screen spun for a few seconds. Then rows of black text slowly loaded. The most upvoted answer read: They probably just saw you as a one-night stand and never intended to pursue anything long-term.

“What the fuck!”

The shout echoed inside the car. Song Shengyang slammed his phone against the steering wheel, directing all his rage at the top commenter. He was spiraling into self-doubt, then just as quickly snatched his phone back and filed a report on the answer.

Pei Siyin had gone to class at two thirty. It was already six.

Song Shengyang had been waiting outside the school gate for over half an hour. His calls went unanswered. His messages were ignored. Gone was the warmth from earlier. Pei Siyin was acting like he didn’t exist.

His expression darkened. He slammed the phone against his thigh twice, gritting his teeth. “Fucking Pei Siyin.”

Ding—

The screen lit up. A green text bubble appeared.

Song Shengyang’s heart jumped. He tapped it open right away.

I’m sleeping in the dorm tonight.

Don’t come pick me up.

No emoji. No punctuation. No pet names. No cute tone. Not even a little smiley face.

…

Pei Siyin lay limp on the bed, his entire body sore and broken. Not only had Song Shengyang kept him pinned to the bed for a whole day and night, but he had also, unfortunately, been one minute late for class and had ended up trailing behind the terrifying professor like a humble tail, receiving a five-thousand-word reflection essay as a reward.

After finishing the class and writing the reflection, the last of his energy had completely drained.

He had been helped back to the dorm by Ji Zhen. The first thing he felt when he lay on the bed was comfort. He heard his phone ringing repeatedly, but he was too exhausted to lift a finger. It was Chen Zhaomian who, after finishing his game, grabbed the phone and responded to Song Shengyang for him.

“Just tell him I’m sleeping in the dorm tonight and not to come pick me up.”

Pei Siyin’s voice was muffled in the pillow, barely audible. He spoke through his nose, weak and nearly unconscious. He pulled the blanket over himself, feeling like his body had been stung by ants, aching and sore. His mind buzzed with electricity, and before long, he fell back into a deep sleep.

Night had deepened. A faint mist of starlight hung in the sky. Pei Siyin lay on his side, one hand dangling off the edge of the bed. Cool evening wind drifted in through the window, brushing against his wrist.

Low voices murmured through the dorm. He had finally slept enough. Letting out a yawn, he turned his head and lazily cracked his eyes open.

“You’re awake?” Ji Zhen bent over to look at him. “Who sleeps like that, fully dressed?”

Chen Zhaomian was still tapping away at his game. Xue Feng sat on the opposite bed, and the sound of Dou Dizhu echoed from his phone. “We’ve been waiting for you to wake up. It’s already nine.”

Pei Siyin shifted slightly, bones creaking like parts grinding back into place. He forced himself to sit up against the headboard, tugging at the wrinkled jacket he’d slept in. His limbs felt like jelly. “Why were you waiting for me? It’s practically midnight.”

His brain was still lagging behind. As soon as the others saw he was awake, they swiftly packed up whatever they were doing and flanked him on either side to drag him out of bed.

“It’s my birthday,” Xue Feng said.

“…Right. I think it is.” Pei Siyin’s mind had loaded about one percent. The other ninety-nine was still buffering. Before he could catch up, the three of them had already hauled him out the door and taken off straight for the bar they’d all been dying to try.

In college, their lives mostly revolved around classes, sports, games, and the occasional food trip. A place like this, clearly designed for adults, wasn’t part of their usual rhythm. They barely ever came to bars.

“Do they give a student discount here?”

The four of them sat in a spot with a terrible view, but they didn’t care. They were here for the vibe.

Xue Feng ordered drinks and clutched his phone to his chest in despair. “No discount. Everyone gets the same price.”

Pei Siyin sat deeper inside the booth, neon lights flashing in shifting colors and blurring everything. He couldn’t even make out the others’ faces clearly. Cracking open a beer, he laughed. “As if they’d offer discounts. You actually asked?”

“Embarrassing,” Ji Zhen teased. “We’ve got to act like regulars tonight, alright?”

Chen Zhaomian opened his own bottle and shook his head. “You think bartenders are blind?”

Out on the dance floor, men and women were pressed together. The music was deafening, pounding in Pei Siyin’s ears. He took a sip of beer, then started patting his pockets. “Where’s my phone?”

He set the bottle down. Seeing him frown and search around, Chen Zhaomian clapped a hand on his shoulder and leaned in to shout, “What are you looking for?”

“My phone!” Pei Siyin shouted back.

Chen Zhaomian thought for a moment, then waved it off and slung an arm around his shoulders. “You left it at the dorm.”

Pei Siyin tugged at his collar and rubbed his throbbing temples. He wondered if Song Shengyang had tried to contact him.

But it was already late. Song Shengyang was probably resting by now. Then again, the last time they ran into each other, it had been the middle of the night.

Whatever. He had asked Chen Zhaomian to reply to him earlier, so it should be fine. He’d just sleep tonight and go find him in the morning. He didn’t have class anyway.

The bar was hot and crowded, the air conditioning far too weak. All around them, men and women dressed to bare skin rather than stay warm.

Except for Pei Siyin.

They had gone through a fair few beers. Sweat beaded across his skin, and when it touched the torn patches on his body, the salt stung sharply. Ji Zhen cracked open another bottle, pointed at his collar, and motioned for him to take it off.

“Aren’t you hot?” Ji Zhen opened his mouth wide, exaggerating, in case Pei Siyin couldn’t hear.

He really was sore all over. Pei Siyin tilted his head back and gazed at the kaleidoscope of lights above. After a moment’s hesitation, he decided his body came first. The lights were dim and no one’s face was visible, let alone anything else.

Besides, even if someone did see, it didn’t matter. From the beginning, his orientation had never been a secret among them.

He unzipped the jacket and shook out his sleeves, trying to loosen the cuffs around his wrists.

The lights overhead blinked out. Darkness swallowed his vision whole.

Pei Siyin looked up and saw Song Shengyang standing right in front of him. He was holding a broken wine glass, half the stem snapped clean off. Liquid spilled from the jagged rim, soaking the back of his hand and dripping slowly from his knuckles. His head was lowered. Under the flickering lights, the contours of his face were sharp and unforgiving, his lips pressed tightly together.

The moment their eyes met, Pei Siyin lit up and threw himself into his arms. “Song Shengyang!”

But the hug he expected never came. Song Shengyang just stood there, unmoving. The air around him was cold. Pei Siyin awkwardly let his arms drop, his chest tightening with breathless unease. “What’s wrong?”

Something was clearly off. Even Ji Zhen, sitting nearby, didn’t dare speak.

Song Shengyang said, “You told me you were sleeping in the dorm.”

So that was what this was about.

Pei Siyin grabbed his arm and tried to explain, “It’s just that today was really—”

“What’s going on here?”

His words were abruptly cut off. A hand appeared on Song Shengyang’s shoulder. Pei Siyin turned his head and saw a girl standing behind him, looking very familiar with him.

Tao Jinsong clearly hadn’t expected that the one clinging to Song Shengyang would be a man. Her hand froze awkwardly in midair. After a pause, she smoothed her skirt between her fingers, lifted her glass, and pretended to admire the scenery. “Oh dear, looks like I got the wrong person. I’ll just be going.”

Pei Siyin quietly stepped back. The storm in his chest threatened to surge up and spill out.

Before he could speak, Song Shengyang cut in first. “She’s a childhood friend. Pei Siyin, right now I’m the one asking the questions.”