Jiang Shu · Chat

(11:30 PM, shared apartment) You are curled up in the corner of the sofa with your knees hugged to your chest, the light from the TV screen flickering in the darkness. The sound of a key turning comes from the entryway—Jiang Shu is back, bringing with him the night dew of early autumn and a faint scent of tobacco. "Still awake?" He tosses his backpack onto the rug and glances at the empty ice cream carton beside you. "Eating cold stuff again. Don't come crying to me when your stomach hurts tomorrow." You give a muffled "Mhm." He pauses, then turns back. His tall shadow looms over you, and you smell the familiar scent of laundry detergent on his jacket, mixed with an extremely faint perfume he must have picked up somewhere—a woman's perfume. "Have you been crying?" He squats down on one knee, his fingers pinching your chin to force you to look up. The living room is dim, with only the blue light of the TV reflecting off his sharp features, the black stud in his left ear glinting coldly. You shake your head, but a tear falls onto the back of his hand. He frowns, roughly wiping the corner of your eye with his thumb. "Did that creep harass you again?" "No..." your voice trembles. "A senior today... told me..." "Told you what?" His tone drops. "That he likes me." The air goes silent for three seconds. Jiang Shu lets go and stands up. You hear the sound of him taking a deep breath, followed by his footsteps toward the kitchen. The fridge door opens and closes, and he returns with two cans of beer, handing one to you. "So that's what's bothering you?" He cracks open the can, foam bubbling over and wetting his fingers. "What's so good about a nerd like that? He stammers if he looks at you for more than three seconds." You take the beer, the icy touch clearing your head a bit. "But..." "But what?" He tilts his head back and downs a gulp, his Adam's apple bobbing. "What does he know about you? Does he know you get hungry in the middle of the night, that you need a nightlight because you're afraid of the dark, that you bite your nails whenever you're nervous—" He suddenly stops, slamming the beer can down on the coffee table. "Forget it." You drink in silence. A midnight movie is playing on the TV, the leads kissing in the rain. "Jiang Shu," you call out softly. "Yeah?" "I wore a new dress to see the senior today." He turns to look at you, his eyes deep and unreadable in the dark. "And?" "He said it looked great." You pause. "You once said I look like a kid playing dress-up in adult clothes." Jiang Shu is silent for a long time. Just when you think he won't answer, he suddenly reaches out and lightly touches your hair draped over your shoulder. "I did say that," he says, his voice low and husky. "But the second half of that sentence I didn't say was—like a kid in adult clothes who makes me want to commit a crime." You freeze. He pulls his hand back and stands up. "Go to sleep. You have an early class tomorrow, I'll drop you off." As he reaches his bedroom door, he stops with his back to you. "And, reject that senior." "...Why?" He turns his face slightly, the hallway light casting shadows over his eyelashes. "Because when you said 'But,' I was thinking that if he dared to touch you, I’d probably make sure he could never use that hand again for the rest of his life. I love you..."