β is this seat taken? β points at xia feiβs lap. winks with both eyes.
β Iβmβ¦ sorry? β Xia Feiβs head feels like static. His mouth remains open, dumbfounded, until he sees Cheng Xiaoshiβs βwink.β Laughter catches in his throat. He covers his mouth, inhales sharply, and attempts to stifle the sound. β What are you doing, Xiaoshiβ¦ β They are in public!
Despite the wording and despite his embarrassment, itβs not a real question, nor is it a scolding. Cheng Xiaoshi is always like this, making it easier to breathe, and at the same time stealing his breath away. Lungs ache. Cheeks grow sore. β Youβre such a dork. Come, sit down. β He pats the spot next to him.
he only grins, a single finger pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he gives the other man a pointed look. " won't your boyfriend get jealous? not that he has to know, but it's just an observation. "
She's good at being small, at going unnoticed. It had been an important skill, when she was small. It meant sometimes Father didn't see her, couldn't feel the anger that always swallowed him when he did. It meant that Tianchen and Qian Jin didn't see her, too, and that was good. That kept her safe. ( being safe from her brother. she hates that she needs to be protected from her brother. )
But she wants to be seen, now; she raises a small hand to get Cheng Xiaoshi's attention. When he looks to her, she gestures to invite him nearer, then shows him what she's been drawing. It's a picture of Qiao Ling, Cheng Xiaoshi, and herself, sitting around in grass and flowers, all three of them smiling.
Men are often frightening. All the ones she's ever known have hurt or used her. But Cheng Xiaoshi is nice to her, and Qiao Ling says he's good and everything Qiao Ling says is true, because she's so smart and she knows everything. The child smiles, a little shy β but not afraid.
[ π₯π¨π¬π¬ ] : after being misinformed that the sender has died, receiver is grieving.
an hour later, qiao ling receives texts from cheng xiaoshiβs phone. one reads β qiao ling. stay out of the studio. itβs not safe there. β the other is a blurred selfie of xiaoshi, forehead bleeding, but behind him a sign with the name of a street. heβs okay, yet the danger is still in their midstβ¦
Her head is spinning. All Qiao Ling can think is: I shouldβve hugged you tighter before I left. She stares blankly at the text from Xiao Li. βIβm sorry,β it reads.Β βWeβre not sure where he is yet. Weβll keep you updated.β Cheng Xiaoshi is not responding to anyone. After hastily hanging up on her, the sounds of broken entry echoing through the speaker, she can only assume the worst. Something mustβve happened. Her heart aches in every agonizing beat.
She shouldβve hugged him tighter. She shouldβve clung, shouldβve savored that moment, because she dreads now that it was their last. A strangled sound from her throat accompanies tears. She rubs at her face. What will she do? What canΒ she do? Should she go see for herself, try to get into the studio? What would Cheng Xiaoshi do if their roles were reversedβ¦?
A new notification lights up her phone. Qiao Lingβs lungs constrict; she draws in a tight breath. There, in a photo featuring a wound in front of a sign she recognizes, is her brother. Heβs alive.Β Heβs hurt but alive, standing at a familiar street, urging her to avoid the studio. She takes a moment to steel herself. Resolve, once flickering, soon rekindles to a decent flame. β Whatβs going on? β she texts back. And, most importantly, β How can I help? β
β DONβT play games with me, felix, βΒ Β cheng xiaoshi spat, his stern tone speaks volumes, loud enough to make any onlookers take notice - even without him outright shouting.Β Β β this is the third time iβve caught you coming home late. itβs - βΒ Β he glances at his phone, the screen glowing briefly. 4pm.Β Β β itβs FOUR IN THE MORNING! βout with the girlsβ is becoming a lame excuse. β
cheng xiaoshi struggled to maintain his serious demeanor, the effort to suppress his laughter causing tears to well in his eyes, blurring his vision. it made the act more convincing. β just admit itβ¦ you were with another man, werenβt you? βΒ Β he feigned a quivering lip, pointing an accusatory finger across the light wood counter.Β Β β just admit you donβt want me anymoreβ¦ you barely look at me duringβ¦ βΒ Β his cheeks flush, the weight of that unfinished line almost breaking him. he bit his lower lip, desperately trying to contain the urge to crumble into laughter at this βshowhome soap operaβ theyβve created while they waited for lu guang to return.Β Β β youβre tearing this marriage apart! βΒ
he should have never left them alone from the start.
IKEA is a stage tonight, and Xia Fei can barely restrain his laughter. He covers his mouth with one hand to hide his smile. At the other side of the counter piece, facing the full intensity of his glare, is Cheng Xiaoshi. Their argument echoes in the showroom, drama drawing over several sets of worried looks.Β
Itβs all to pass the time. Lu Guang left them alone to inspect another section of the store. He canβt blame them for how they cope in his absence.Β There were no other options.
Xia Fei rolls his eyes at the accusations. To play the part of a scornful cheater, he sits tall on a stool β shoulders back, posture disinterested. The longer they carry out the charade, though, the harder it becomes to hold steady. He nearly loses it when he spots tears in Cheng Xiaoshiβs eyes. Matched emotions bring a shimmer to his own: mimicked heartbreak.
βIβm tearing this marriage apart?β he asks. Iciness curls through his teeth, sharp and unyielding. βLook at yourself, feigning innocence.β Xia Fei shoves the stool back when he stands. It scrapes the floor louder than he intends, but he embraces his subsequent wince for special effect.Β
Adorning his cheeks now is a flush of shattered composure. Pink hues exacerbate the scowl. When he speaks again, pain turns his voice raw. βHave you considered why Iβd look for company elsewhere in the first place? Maybeββ His voice catches in his throat, a badly hidden giggle, as he steps towards Cheng Xiaoshi. He places his hands on the counterβs edge and leans over him, closing the distance, worsening the tension. βMaybe you just donβt love me right anymore, Xiaoshiβ¦β
