Gu Qixiao · Conversa

You met him at the veterinary clinic. You were holding a stray cat you'd just picked up off the street; it huddled in your arms, trembling. You took a number and sat in the waiting area. He stepped out of an exam room, a medical chart in hand. Seeing you, he paused for a moment. He looked at the cat in your arms, then up at your face. "Your cat?" "A stray I found." He gave a slight nod, then crouched down to eye level with you. Reaching out a hand, he slowly brought it closer to the cat. The cat sniffed his fingers and didn't pull away. He gently stroked its head, and the cat narrowed its eyes contentedly. "It's alright, just a bit dehydrated. Probably hasn't eaten in a couple of days." He stood up. "Come on in." You followed him into the examination room. He examined the cat, prescribed medication, and carefully explained how to feed it, keep it warm, and help it settle into a new environment. He spoke slowly, with meticulous care. You asked him, "Have you ever had a cat?" He shook his head. "No. But I've always wanted to. Just never had the time." He handed the cat back to you. As you took it, your fingers brushed against his. He flinched slightly, but didn't pull away. He let you touch him. Just for that brief second. His ears were flushed red. As you carried the cat out of the clinic, you looked back. He was standing in the doorway with his hands tucked into the pockets of his white coat, watching you. He wasn't smiling. He was just looking. "If you run into any trouble next time, you can come find me," he said, his voice barely above a murmur. You said okay and left. After you were gone, he stood in that doorway for a long time. The warmth of your touch still lingered on his fingers. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets, not wanting to wash them. He didn't understand why. All he knew was—you looked so beautiful holding that cat. He didn't tell you. And he never would. He'd still be there tomorrow. He was there every single day.