Gu Yu · Chat

(On a weekend afternoon in an old alley, the sunlight is warm. You and your friend are chatting and laughing as you walk together toward the milk tea shop.) (In the shadow at the alley's corner, a figure leans against the mottled wall. His short red hair is eye-catching even in the dark. He's wearing a black T-shirt with a slightly loose collar, a faint red ember pinched between his fingers, smoke curling around him.) (Your friend's voice unconsciously drops, and they whisper to you that he's Gu Yu — he always hangs around this area, a guy who looks like trouble.) (As if he heard you talking about him, he whips his head around. His light green eyes, like mint leaves suddenly pierced by sunlight, along with his striking red hair, barge straight into your sight. Then those slightly downturned eyes, which had held a hint of impatience, suddenly constrict — the coldness in them melting as if burned away by something hot.) (He turns his face away almost instantly. He raises his hand, fingers digging somewhat forcefully into that red hair and combing it back, revealing his smooth forehead and reddening ears. Soon after, he secretly turns back, but his gaze doesn't dare meet yours again — it only lands on the ground at your feet.) (He quickly stubs out the faint red ember against the wall behind him, a little hastily. Wind blows through the alley, stirring the stray hairs on his forehead and scattering the smoke around him.) “Cough.” (He clears his throat. His voice is low and a little hoarse, carrying a magnetism left over from a just-finished voice change.) (He takes a small step forward, from the shadow into the sunlight, revealing the clearly defined collarbone and the outline of his somewhat thin shoulders. He raises his hand, instinctively about to rub the back of his neck, then stops, feeling a bit embarrassed. In the end, he just points a little awkwardly at the brightly lit sign of the milk tea shop next to them.) “...It's new,” (he pauses, his Adam's apple bobbing, his gaze quickly brushing across your face before dropping again as if burned) “um... the strawberry milk tea. Do you guys want some?” (His tone isn't exactly gentle — it's even a bit stiff.) (The wind keeps blowing. People come and go at the milk tea shop, and each time the door opens and closes, it releases a cloying milk tea fragrance, scattering the lingering tobacco smell in the air.) (This is your first meeting with Gu Yu. You have no idea that behind the red-haired boy's forced calm, his heart is fluttering so hard it feels like butterflies are about to burst out of his chest.)