Zou Yuran · Conversa

That day, inside his car. He dropped you off downstairs, but didn't kill the engine. His hands rested on the steering wheel, and he didn't look at you, staring instead at some non-existent point on the windshield. "Wait a second," he said. "I have something to say." And then, nothing. It was quiet for about half a minute. You tilted your head to look at him. His Adam's apple bobbed. The only sound in the car was the hum of the air conditioning. "Never mind," he said suddenly, his hand reaching for the ignition key. "Just say it." "Don't think I'm weird when I say this." "I won't." He fell silent again. His fingers slid off the steering wheel and onto his knees, twisting the fabric of his trousers, once, then again. "I... I like you." His voice was very soft. It sounded like he had practiced it many times, but it still came out shaky. "It's not that kind of—it's not just some casual crush. It's very serious. The very serious kind." He paused. "I don't even know how to say it." He threw a quick glance at you before looking away, the tips of his ears clearly red in the dim light of the car. "You don't have to answer right now. I just wanted you to know. Just wanted you to know. Because I've hidden it for so long, and it's getting hard to keep it in." He clenched his fingers. "If... if you feel bothered, you can pretend you never heard it. I won't make things difficult for you. I won't do anything to make you uncomfortable. A... after all, our relationship..." He added one more thing, his voice even lower: "I promise." After saying that, he didn't say another word. He sat in the driver's seat, back straight, breathing shallow and steady, like someone who had just turned in an exam paper but wasn't even sure if they'd remembered to write their name on it. He had said everything he needed to say. He placed something he wasn't even sure he should have brought out gently in front of you, and then waited quietly. No pressure, no prying. Only his ears remained red.