Lovely Allergen

Chapter 56: To Take a Jump

Song Yu had never imagined hearing that last sentence.

His first reaction after hearing it was to think he was hallucinating: Yue Zhishi was only talking about his allergy and nothing else. After all, he truly wasn’t himself tonight — he’d even wanted to die earlier when he was driving.

Song Yu had never given himself the opportunity to hope for Yue Zhishi to return his feelings. The world was so large — it was already so unlikely for two people to meet, and they’d even become family members who could be with each other for their entire lives. 

What else could he ask for?

He approached Yue Zhishi with a very narrow view because of this fixed way of thinking; he kept thinking he was very pure and very innocent because he’d been brought up with such love and care. Song Yu would sometimes even lose sight of what Yue Zhishi had lost, thinking he must be happy.

The now grown up Yue Zhishi fell to pieces and cried in utter pain in front of him — it was the first time Song Yu had ever felt so lost, not knowing what to do.

The hand covering the back of Yue Zhishi’s hand shifted unnaturally. It felt like a very anguished feeling kept transmitting through this connection, pouring into Song Yu’s heart.

As expected, he truly was a failure as a rock. He looked so strong and stubborn on the outside, and yet his inner heart was an utter mess, soft and weak.

Song Yu touched Yue Zhishi’s head, called out his nickname in a very soft voice and pulled him into his arms.

Yue Zhishi actually didn’t want Song Yu to see him cry. He didn’t want him to see such fragile parts of him, but he wasn’t a mature adult. He had a limited threshold, and he could only bear it up to here. 

He buried his face into Song Yu’s shoulder, his tears mixing into the cotton fibres of Song Yu’s jacket. Yue Zhishi felt much lighter after saying it out loud — he didn’t expect much to begin with, so he didn’t wait for a response. Song Yu had always treated him very well, and he probably wouldn’t reject him as coldly and resolutely as he rejected other people. He was more likely to try to persuade him.

The aching from his sickness both clouded and cleared his mind, and all of the possible things Song Yu could say passed through his brain. He told himself he couldn’t cry anymore. He honestly looked really ugly when he cried. 

Song Yu’s hand kept softly patting his back. It was only just a few years ago when Song Yu still hadn’t known how to comfort him, when he’d had to personally grab his hand and tell him he needed to pat like that when comforting someone.

Yue Zhishi couldn’t help but grow upset again. He thought again of what he’d just done and felt he had been too aggressive. It felt like he was always forcing Song Yu, again and again. He’d forced him to stay with him when it thundered, forced him to accept him staying behind and even forced him to admit he was his gege in front of everyone.

But now, after he’d smashed the relationship in between them so impulsively — how should Song Yu face him? How could they go back to how they were like before? He really didn’t want to become one of Song Yu’s burdens.

Yue Zhishi started to regret it again. 

But Song Yu’s embrace was truly too intoxicating. It was the most powerful hallucinogen in the world, and even if he knew best how many failed examples were ahead of him, even if he knew he’d definitely leave with bloody, dripping injuries after plunging straight in — he could still only smell the blood red and candied smell of roses.

Yue Zhishi didn’t cry anymore. He acutely sensed the hesitation and indecisiveness in Song Yu’s breathing, as if he was about to say something. He was very scared, and before he could be pushed away, he grabbed Song Yu’s back.

Sure enough, he heard Song Yu speak.

“Can you repeat what you just said?” Song Yu’s voice was very low, and it carried a rarely heard uncertainty and confusion, as if he really did think it was his problem. He didn’t even dare to repeat what he heard.

This surprised Yue Zhishi. He didn’t know what Song Yu was trying to do — or was he going to laugh at his feelings? 

“I said I like you.” Yue Zhishi’s face remained hidden away. He emphasised, voice filled with tears, “I really do.”

He felt Song Yu’s body slacken, his chest heaving for a long time. He didn’t know if he’d frightened him. Yue Zhishi lifted his head and used his tear swollen eyes to look at him, quietly calling out gege.

He couldn’t tell if Song Yu’s face was upset or smiling. Song Yu took Yue Zhishi’s hand, his fingertips lightly caressing the rash on his arm. 

“How come there’s still an allergic reaction…” He spoke very weakly.

Yue Zhishi thought, as expected, he was confused and didn’t know what to do. From the first moment he’d appeared in Song Yu’s life, he’d persistently created trouble for Song Yu.

Even though Song Yu had clearly done nothing wrong.

He heard it start to rain outside the window, the constant pitter-pattering noise of the rain seeping into the room. This place was truly very nice — it was Song Yu’s style. The ceiling to floor curtains in the room covered up everything, but they should be able to see beautiful views during the day.

It was as nice as that turquoise stone. In his heart, Yue Zhishi silently said, at least the first person to receive a memento and the first person to use this apartment — was him. 

“Yue Zhishi.” After what felt like a century, Song Yu was finally willing to speak to him. His eyelids were lowered, his hand still holding on his arm, and his voice was solemn. “Out of the things I’m going to say, there are some things that might cause you to misunderstand me. But I’ve never wanted to trick you, and neither am I doubting you. It’s just that there are more things for me to consider. Okay?”

He frowned briefly and gazed at Yue Zhishi from ten centimetres away, waiting until Yue Zhishi nodded with his red eyes. He only then continued. “You’re sick right now. You’ve only just stopped having a fever, and this is not the best time to make a decision. Is this something you’ve carefully thought about, or are you actually not sure and can’t tell whether you feel familial affection for me or…” 

He hesitated for a moment and only then pushed out with great difficulty, “Love.” After he finished speaking, Song Yu seemed to belatedly remember something and grabbed up the thin khaki coloured woollen quilt on top of the blanket, circling it around Yue Zhishi’s shoulders and wrapping him up.

“Can I answer now?” Yue Zhishi coughed twice and then struggled to hold back from further coughing.

Song Yu dipped his head, looking at his eyes.

“I was confused before, but now I’m sure I can tell the difference.” Yue Zhishi stared at Song Yu’s long and slender fingers, his head lowered. He said, nose blocked, “Song Yu, I’m nineteen years old.” 

Maybe it was because he couldn’t breathe smoothly, but that last sentence of his sounded particularly feeble. Song Yu didn’t have the heart to point out that he hadn’t actually had his birthday yet. 

Yue Zhishi felt like Song Yu didn’t believe him, so he asked, “How do you define what love is? You’re the person I like the most, and other than to you, I wouldn’t feel the same way to anyone else. I only want to be together with you for all twenty-four hours. I like hugging you, and I really want to hold your hand when I’m walking with you. When I saw that couple kissing on the plank bridge, I…”

His voice dropped, slightly losing confidence. “I also wanted to kiss you.”

Confessions should be made using more romantic words and expressions.

But Yue Zhishi wasn’t able to do it. As a young person, he didn’t have the rich experience and history to draw from, and he wasn’t able to find all that many heart-stirring words. He could only slowly, timidly and impatiently cut open his chest blazing with love and let Song Yu see. Song Yu was born with a face everyone adored; Yue Zhishi felt he was a desperately poor child, afraid of not being worth much even after taking out all his money — afraid he still wouldn’t be valuable in Song Yu’s eyes.

But Song Yu raised his hand, touching and stroking his face. He seemed to really want to say something, but he didn’t say it at the end.

Yue Zhishi was a bit dizzy. He asked, “Do you think I’m being very hasty?” 

Song Yu shook his head. “No, I’m just really surprised.”

Anyone would be surprised at a little brother who’d grown up together with you suddenly having these kinds of improper thoughts. 

“You…” Yue Zhishi pressed his lips together. He swallowed back the question he wanted to ask. Green and blue veins could be faintly seen on his thin and white eyelids, and his eyelashes were slightly trembling. “I interrupted you just then. You can continue what you were going to say now.”

The rain outside the window fell harder, and Yue Zhishi hoped it wouldn’t thunder. Or else he would fall to pieces even more, and Song Yu might not stay with him after hearing his confession.

Song Yu actually didn’t want to see Yue Zhishi acting so uneasily. He was very happy after hearing those words, but he was also worried and fearful, feeling as though he’d created all this with his own hands. The sweetness Yue Zhishi was currently giving him — it was the cookie he’d personally fed him all those years ago. He had no way of predicting what was going to happen in the future.

“Le Le.” Song Yu gripped Yue Zhishi’s fingers. “Why did you suddenly get angry when you heard I rented an apartment?”

Yue Zhishi corrected him. “I wasn’t angry, I was upset.” And then he slowly explained, “They all say you have someone you like. I thought you wanted to be like senior Qin Yan and move in with someone, and then, just like when I was in high school… hide from me.” 

“What kind of person do you like?” Yue Zhishi couldn’t help but ask.

Song Yu’s palm, broad and dry, covered his hand. He tossed a question back at him. “What do you think?”

Head lowered, Yue Zhishi feebly listed out the conditions he’d considered many times. “Someone mature, independent, who wouldn’t pester you for no reason, who would give you personal space…… Someone who’d better be beautiful, too.” He added the last condition himself. He felt like Song Yu didn’t really care about appearances, or else senior Nan Jia would already be extremely suitable.

He didn’t realise he’d been frowning until Song Yu softly rubbed at the centre of his eyebrows. “Looks like our senses of beauty really are completely different.”

Yue Zhishi lifted his eyes, giving him a glance, and his lips subconsciously pressed together. 

“Other than that last bit, everything else doesn’t match.” Song Yu gazed at him, his eyes warm and gentle. “Even completely opposite.” 

Yue Zhishi didn’t understand and sniffed, slightly disdaining his preferences. “You actually like someone childish and clingy, someone who likes to bother you.” No wonder he didn’t like senior Nan Jia.

“Yes. I like a beautiful idiot.”

After frankly and openly saying it, Song Yu leaned in and kissed Yue Zhishi’s forehead.

This unexpected movement scared Yue Zhishi into lifting his head, his tears covered eyes very wide and filled with shock and disbelief as he looked at Song Yu. He was like a little puppy who’d been hit with an apple — he blinked multiple times, not understanding what happened.

He called out gege very weakly. This was something he was used to doing every time he wasn’t sure what to do.

“At least don’t call me that anymore.” Song Yu smiled wryly. “Don’t remind me.” 

“From a very long time ago, I didn’t want to be just your older brother.”

He’d walked on the wire rope as carefully as though he was walking on thin ice, struggling for so long. Morals and ethics pulled at him on one side, and the love accumulated over days and months pulled at him from the other side. No matter which side he fell, it would still be into endlessly burning lava, raging with flames.

Seeing Yue Zhishi’s eyes once again gathering with tears, Song Yu stroked his eyes. “There’s no one else. There’s never been.” 

He wasn’t willing for Yue Zhishi to be in pain; as long as he stood by one side and beckoned to him, Song Yu would jump down from the wire immediately. So many years of misgivings and struggles — they collapsed against a single don’t reject me from Yue Zhishi. 

It felt good to jump down. Even if he chose wrongly, he would still stand in front of Yue Zhishi, blocking and taking all the blame.

Yue Zhishi’s mind was completely blank, his fingertips numb, and was even more at a loss than before. His weak body from the fever also slowed down his thinking, and he frowned uneasily. He didn’t care if he sounded childish or not, thoughtlessly asking, “Really?”

Song Yu solemnly nodded. “I can also answer the questions you asked me before you started crying. I rented this apartment for you. Not to hide from you — but because you’re always falling sick, and it’s not convenient to take care of you in the dorms. It’s too far to go home, so I needed to find a place where you could rest.”

“The landlord gave me the keys two days ago. I actually didn’t go out for a surface survey today. I came to furnish the place, so yes, there truly hasn’t been anyone else who’ve lived here. The bowl is new — I bought it downstairs out of urgency. I originally wanted to find an excuse over the weekend to take you shopping at Ikea.”

He stood up, drawing open the curtains. A layer of rain covered the ceiling to floor windows, blurring the quiet yet resplendent lake view.

“You said you wanted to see the lake. Is this okay?” Song Yu’s voice was a bit nervous. “I was really in a rush. It still might not be good enough, but it’s much better than Qin Yan’s place.”

Yue Zhishi’s tears flowed down again. He wiped the tears away with the back of his hand, but there were more tears the more he wiped until he finally wrapped the woollen quilt around himself, not letting Song Yu see him. How could something so good happen to him — how could he still be crying so shamefully.

In the shadowy, hazy light, he sensed Song Yu coming closer. His footsteps were softened by the carpet, becoming tender and gentle, and he sat down, a small piece of Yue Zhishi’s heart sinking down with him. 

“Le Le, I’ve liked you for a very long time. Even though I’ve questioned your feelings, please forgive me. Don’t question my heart for you.”

After considering it repeatedly, Song Yu still decided to splash a basin of cold water over Yue Zhishi and over himself.

“But right now, you and I are both feeling very emotional. A large part of you liking me might have come from the dependency you hold towards an older brother. There are actually many, many people better than me in this world — I was the one who limited your field of vision.” He no longer sounded as calm as before, but he did his best to control his feelings, to finish saying what he needed to say. 

“We’ll be up against many problems…” A touch of evasion grew in his heart. He didn’t really want to continue speaking, and Yue Zhishi also didn’t let him continue. He fumbled about, grabbing onto Song Yu’s hand, and very forcefully linked their fingers together, as if showing his determination.

Song Yu laughed a bit helplessly, and said one sentence he’d thought he would never say. 

“Let’s give it a try.” He added, somewhat uncertainly, “If you want.”

The woollen quilt was still on top of Yue Zhishi’s head. He forgot about it, absorbed in eagerly, excitedly lifting his head, and yet he couldn’t even see Song Yu’s face.

Just a try. If you meet someone you like more, you can go back on what you’ve said. You can leave whenever you want. 

Song Yu only said it silently in his heart, afraid his words might disappoint Yue Zhishi. He took them as a warning to himself.

Even though he’d only said they’d give it a try, Yue Zhishi was already beyond happy, taking off the quilt on his face with exhilaration and happiness. He accidentally ended up hiccuping, so he quickly covered his face again, as if he could pretend nothing happened by doing so.

“Then can you kiss my forehead again?” He hiccupped again, and the words ‘beautiful idiot’ drifted across his mind. 

“Sure,” Song Yu said.

Separated by the quilt, Yue Zhishi felt Song Yu’s warm breath drawing near, and his heart started to race.

And yet that warm kiss didn’t land on his forehead as promised — it landed on his lips, soft fibres in between.

Song Yu opened up the thin quilt after he moved his lips away and wrapped his arms around him. He’d matured early at a precocious age, and in front of this love that went against the ethics of the world, he showed an unprecedented clumsiness, passiveness and solemness. 

“No matter how long this may last, I will still treasure you very, very much.”

The author has something to say:
Maybe because the double-sided arrows in my novels are always extraordinarily thick, but once one person confesses, the other person won’t be willing to reject him no matter what — the emotional journey between them has been connected. I also think getting together can be one of the climaxes of the story, it doesn’t have to be the end. From beginning their relationship to learning how to love each other, they still need to go through many, many things.

But no matter what, these little puppies are about to begin their journey of cautious and inexperienced first love.