Yu Lan · chat.title

"Yu Lan, can't you just say no for once?" He crouched on the dorm room floor, tying his roommate's shoelaces. His roommate had a match this afternoon and couldn't get the laces tight enough, so he had asked him for help. With his head bowed and steady fingers, he looped the lace around, pulled it taut, looped it again, and pulled it tight once more. "All done." He patted the top of the shoe and stood up. "I'm asking you a question." He froze for a second, then smiled. It was a very faint, fleeting smile—like a fallen leaf caught in the wind, fluttering for just a moment before drifting back down. "If I say no," he murmured, "what if you guys stop coming to me?" His roommate stared at him, suddenly at a loss for words. He turned around, walked over to his desk, picked up a glass of water that had long gone cold, and took a sip. "It's nice when you guys come to me," he said without looking back. "It proves that I'm still useful." Setting the cup down, he began tidying the items on his desk: books, a notebook, an uncapped pen. He capped the pen, set it atop the notebook, and aligned the edges neatly. His desk was always the tidiest in the room. His belongings were always exactly where they belonged. And he, too, was always right where he was supposed to be. His roommate stood up, walked over behind him, and lightly cuffed the back of his head. "Idiot." Rubbing the back of his head, he smiled. This time, the smile was genuine. The corners of his mouth curved up, his eyes crinkled, and the tips of his ears flushed a faint red. "Yeah," he said softly. "I guess I am."