Xiangli Yao comforts you after arguing with parents
Everyone should feel warm and comfortable, wrapped in a blanket in the middle of the night. And the rain outside the window should be music at that time. It had been that way for a while. But why did it feel like tears of sorrow now?
You were staring at your project — broken, like a massive hammer had smashed it not one time, and a motorbike had ridden over it, also not once. The floor of the workroom was dangerous for middle-of-the-night visitors. Luckily, the walls had been built to account for even more noise. So no one should interrupt your self-reproach.
It had been continuing for a while. Day after day — you lied. You convinced Xiangli Yao that you were fine. Looked tired? You know, working on a project is really not good for my skin — a sacrifice for an ultimate truth.
It seemed he believed you. Even if he didn’t, as you glanced at your project, the thought about him vanished. The project — yours? Now you were ready to admit it — your parents’ project, from the beginning to the very end, and the epilogue that looked like this — a total mess. You smashed the project right after you put in the last detail and the mechanism started to work.
Now you were sitting right on the cold concrete floor, and only one thought spun in your heavy head — for what?
Suddenly, you heard footsteps in the corridor, a squeak of the door, and a thin trace of light crossed the workroom. You had thought that if he came to you, you would feel shame or fear, or something.
You felt nothing, even when Xiangli Yao sat beside you and the worries in his eyes were as large as the Etheric Sea.
“I know how it feels to lose count of time, trying to achieve your goal, but…” His eyes checked your body, anxiety filling them. “Knowing is not the same as seeing it in person. Hm, maybe you have seen me like this more than once.”
He was trying to be gentle, trying to cheer you up by joking. And because of the warmth and love emanating from him, you noticed how tightly the emptiness had wrapped itself around you. You heard your own voice as if it were coming from the deep of a whale’s stomach:
“I’m fine. You should sleep.”
“So should you.” He rested his hand unsurely on your shoulder. His eyes widened. “You’re shaking.” One of his hands touched your forehead. “And sweaty. You’re hot. How long have you been torturing yourself?”
“Years? From the starting point, day after day, after…”
The first returning feeling was dizziness. Suddenly, the room began to spin, and you fell onto Xiangli Yao, shaking harder.
“Rest on me. I’ll take you back to bed and…”
“Sorry, could you repeat that?”
“It’s scary. I don’t even know who I am.”
The coldness of the floor retreated in one moment, and beneath your cheek, a warm and strong heartbeat calmed you. As you relaxed, you found how easily the truth slipped from you.
“Always in my parents’ shadow. Always following in their footsteps. Beloved child, obedient, be an honor to your parents — I seek that… so, uh, I’m about to empty my—”
As he predicted, Xiangli Yao delivered you exactly to the bathroom. He was tapping your back and washing your face, neck, hands, and legs with a warm, wet towel. But what was more interesting to you was the fact that you hadn’t been sitting on the cold floor. There was a mat now.
Of course, you knew the answer. And you didn’t have the strength to raise your head. The tears spread on their own.
“Ah, you poor one, what’s wrong? Come here, you know I’m always open-armed for you. Something wrong? Hurt? Just let me fix it—”
“You’re lucky,” you said in sobbing pauses. “You’re following in your parents’ footsteps… you chose it… you like it… so why can’t I… do the same?..”
Now you understood it clearly, but you were still covered by a cloud, painfully searching for knowledge that could flip the game.
“I finished it… they would be happy… I would be good… what do I know?”
Xiangli Yao came closer, hugging you, and said nothing when you squeezed his pajamas too tightly. His hands stroked your head as if trying to wash away your pain and obsession. You cuddled closer to him, a bit more, and you found yourself under his skin.
“You are,” he responded confidently and softly kissed your forehead. “You are, not less nor more. And this is good. You are good, right? And I hope someday — free.”
“You know it isn’t true.”
“I’ll be good. I’ll wake up and fix it.”
“…One scholar once read that the night uncovers the truth. When you’re tired, when you open up, what you can resist with a fresh mind beats you…”
“Not without you. Don’t leave me…”
“And even nonsense the night forces you to talk. Why should I go?”
“I don’t love your parents, and I would not apologize for that. And you… it’s selfish, my apologies, but I’m happy that you’re slowly understanding it — you are not your parents. After that night, I hope you’ll take more care of yourself. You’ll be more yourself than a tank of other people’s expectations.”
“It’s my choice. Why should I blame you for yours?”
You found yourself in bed. The rain had almost stopped. The blanket enveloped you, but not as much as Xiangli Yao did. He helped you drink some water, cleaned your face with the towel one more time, his hands and his kisses following. You had no choice but to believe he wouldn’t go anywhere.
Even if you weren’t alike anymore.
hey-hey, that guy would love you no matter how you alike
