This… should be downstairs of his house?
He was sitting in the passenger seat, his cheeks slightly flushed, his head resting against the car window, and his hair a bit disheveled from rubbing. I reached out and patted his shoulder: “Xu Lin, you’re home. Wake up.”
He blinked groggily, realized where he was, turned to thank me, and was about to open the car door.
I saw him tugging at the door twice before it finally opened and couldn’t help but get out of the car to support him.
It was just a few steps to his place, and I could go back to where I was staying after I got him inside.
On the way, I couldn’t help but say, “You really dared to drink. If I hated you, I’d take a few more photos of you now.”
He pressed the elevator button and leaned unsteadily on my shoulder: “Thanks,brother Chen, for not hating me. Besides, since you can’t drink… I had to drink for you.”
I was a bit embarrassed:It’s not my fault that I don’t have the gene for drinking.
But it was fine. As the only one sober throughout, I could ensure everyone who drank too much or too little was safely settled in the car.
With a “ding,” the elevator reached the designated floor. I took him to the door of his room, looked at his dazed expression, and said helplessly: “Key.”
“Huh? … Oh… key.” He looked down and fumbled through his pants pocket. “Huh? … Where’s my key?”
“…”
Really…
I took a deep breath, put one hand through his armpit to prevent him from falling, and used the other hand to pat his pants pocket. After hearing the clinking sound, I reached in to get the key.
Finally getting the key, I was almost done with the task. With him still holding onto me, I extended one hand to fumble through the keys, found the correct one, and inserted it into the lock.
As I turned the key, the lock clicked open. I turned my head and felt something soft brush against my lower lip.
I was stunned.
He was too.
Since our heights were similar, and he was slightly tilting his head back due to his drunkenness, his light-colored lips touched mine. Before I could react that it was an accident, he slightly parted his lips and bit my lower lip.
It didn’t hurt, just a light bite that was a bit… itchy.
I stared at him, watching his half-closed eyes open a bit more, his gaze holding a hint of clarity mixed with some annoyance. The sensation on my lips disappeared, and his arms around me loosened.
His voice grew colder, his gaze drifting away as he reached for the doorknob: “I’m a bit drunk…”
The door cracked open, and he walked in with his back to me. “You should go back. Goodnight.”
“…” I watched him go in and turned to close the door.
I looked at him, his thin back seemingly trembling a little. As the door was just a few centimeters from closing, I reached out to stop it, pushed the door open, and pulled his arm to turn him around.
He lowered his gaze and pressed his lips together. I lifted his chin with my hand and kissed him again.
Whether he was drunk or not, I was quite clear-headed.
The door closed by itself due to inertia, and I embraced him as we slowly moved to his bedroom.
His soft lips carried a hint of alcohol, a mix of fresh and seductive, making one want to swallow him whole. His arms wrapped around my neck, his tongue refused to back down and slipped in, only to be pushed back by me. Seemingly displeased with my aggression, he even bit me with his teeth.
I winced in pain, noticing blood at the corner of his mouth, and he looked at me with a hint of pride. I couldn’t help but pinch his waist, and as he staggered, I used my foot to guide us both into bed.
He shifted uneasily beneath me. “… So soon?”
I laughed: “What are you thinking?”
Then I rolled over, sat up, and tugged at his sleeve. “You go to sleep. I’ll head back.”
“… Mm.”
I stood up, bent down, and looked at him with a bit of distrust: “Hey, let’s be clear. You won’t deny it tomorrow when you wake up, right?”
He glared at me: “If you hadn’t come in, I would have denied it.”
I ruffled his hair: “Then I can rest easy. Goodnight.”
“… Goodnight.”
After closing the bedroom door, my smile seemed to be unstoppable. I adjusted my clothes and walked to the door, opened it, and the next moment saw a ferocious face outside, lunging at me.
I suddenly opened my eyes.
My body involuntarily shivered.
It was very dark around me, but I quickly adapted to the moonlight’s dim hue. He, resting on my legs, opened his eyes slightly, and asked in a low voice: “What’s wrong?”
He was still here.
I wanted to reach out and touch him but remembered my hands were cold, so I gave up and shook my head.
I didn’t know what was wrong.
This time, the feeling was different. In the past, I could see fleeting images and hear sounds in my mind, but they were not continuous and lacked context.
This time, those images made me feel a bit empty.
My chest felt hollow.
I lifted my hand and touched my chest; it was deathly silent.
…I suddenly felt… cold.
Then his hand rested on mine.
I looked at him, watching him sit up. The blanket that had been draped over his shoulders slid down, and without waiting for me to reach out, he put it back on himself. He sat beside me, tilted his head, and spoke softly.
“Chen Ke, have you been thinking about something recently?”
Yes, I had never told him. I didn’t want to give him vague hopes.
But now, I wanted him to know.
So I nodded.
He pressed his lips together: “Can you tell me what you’ve been thinking about?”
A lot—good and bad, together or apart. I didn’t know how to explain, so I just looked at him, opened my mouth, and shook my head.
He seemed to understand, thought for a moment, and then continued: “Are the things you’ve been thinking about related to me?”
Basically.
I nodded.
He lifted my bandaged right hand and patted it: “… So how do those things make you feel?”
I stared at the hand he had patted and didn’t answer him.
His puzzled voice came from beside my head: “Persi?”
I was somewhat surprised and raised my right arm, causing his gaze to shift. In the moonlight, I could clearly see my fingers move slightly.
He covered his mouth with one hand and leaned forward excitedly. He carefully held both hands out: “Really… growing well?”
I nodded, watching his eyes bright and misty, and couldn’t help but smile.
He leaned in and hugged me, the warmth from his body flowing continuously. I extended my arms to hold him, greedily feeling his living breath.
It was as if his vivid presence could prove that I wasn’t quite like a dead person.
I held him tightly, whispering in his ear.
“I have feelings about those things.”
“I want to… be with you.”
No matter what happens, good or bad, I don’t want to be separated from you.
Even in death, I don’t want to.
