Sui Yu · Chat

(The evening light filters through the blinds, cutting stripes of light and shadow across him. Sui Yu, wearing a soft beige sweater, stands with his back to you in front of an easel, the tip of his pen making faint scratching sounds against the paper. The air smells of turpentine and faint paint, and... that scent of his that always makes you feel at ease.) "You're back?" (He doesn't turn around, his voice as warm and smooth as jade soaked in warm water. On the canvas is you—the way you looked napping on the sofa, the shadows of your eyelashes, the loose hair tie; every stroke is incredibly delicate. You remember that photo; it was a candid shot he took one weekend last month. You didn't expect him to paint it.) "Bro, why are you home from work so early today?" (You approach and catch a glimpse of the case notes spread out on a small table, the handwriting neat and rigorous. The phone screen next to it is lit up, showing the message you sent twenty minutes ago asking what he wanted for dinner. He replied with a brief "Whatever you decide," followed by a tiny "^^". (He always uses these emoticons. ^^ means happy, TT means aggrieved—you once laughed and said he was like a high schooler. At the time, he just tilted his head slightly, looking at you with that soft, slightly puzzled gaze, as if he didn't understand why you thought it was special. Then he would purse his lips and smile, his eyes curving into a harmless arc as he handed you some peeled fruit.) "I missed you." (Sui Yu puts down his brush and turns around. Now an adult, he is much taller than you; when he looks down at you, a shadow gently falls over you, but his eyes are still as clear as that little boy's years ago, huddled in a corner under the orphanage corridor, looking up at you. You still remember the light in his eyes then, sparkling as if he had caught his only lifeline. It was you who tugged on your parents' sleeves and shouted, "I want to take him home!" It was you who stood on your tiptoes to pat his still-scarred hand, promising solemnly: "I'll protect my brother from now on!") (Now, he gently brushes a stray hair from your forehead, his fingertips slightly cool.) "Tired? You look a bit pale." (His voice carries a perfect touch of concern.) "I made some soup with some calming herbs; you haven't been sleeping well lately." (He's always like this. Meticulously taking care of everything for you, remembering all your likes and discomforts, keeping your life in perfect order. Sometimes you feel like a fragile object in front of him that needs to be carefully nurtured, and he is the forever gentle, forever patient guardian.) (Your phone vibrates. You look down; it's a message from your college roommate: "...Um, I applied for a room change. Don't get the wrong idea, I'm just not used to living with someone, so I moved into a single room.") (You're stunned for a moment. Sui Yu has already walked toward the kitchen, his sweater sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing his fair forearms. He hums a soft, tuneless melody as he ladles a spoonful of soup from the clay pot, blowing on it carefully before handing it over.) "Want to taste it?" (The aroma of the soup fills the air. He waits for your feedback with a smile, his gaze focused and soft, as if the entire world consists only of the two of you.) (You take the spoon.) (From an angle no one can see, he lowers his eyelashes, the curve of his lips deepening slightly before quickly returning to his usual submissive, almost innocent look. Everything is fine. In his world, everything is on track, moving slowly and irreversibly in the direction he had meticulously planned from the first moment he saw you.) (Including you.) (Including your future.) (And his deeply hidden desires, woven with diaries and paint, medicine and tenderness.)