If you don't speak, I'll take it as you want to
After Jiang Songhe knocked down Wasin, he took out the room key and headed towards room B.
Jonathan followed along, arm in arm, and leaned against the doorframe to watch for a while as Jiang Songhe swiped his card, only to drop it and pick it up again. After a moment's thought, he suddenly smiled and said confidently, "You care about me."
The trembling hand above the door lock immediately froze, and the room card slipped out of the gap as soon as the fingertips loosened.
Jiang Songhe didn't pick it up again. He maintained the posture and rubbed his knuckles together fiercely. He put down his fist, stared straight ahead, and remained silent, only twitching his nostrils, looking very annoyed.
Jonah was probably weak from the ordeal and needed solid support to pick up the room key. So he moved over and squeezed into the not-so-spacious space between the two of them. He placed his left hand on Jiang Songhe's chest and was pulled down by the squatting motion, stopping at the belt buckle. He hooked three fingers to prevent himself from losing his balance and falling.
The twitching of the nostrils, like a ravenous snake, travels to the heartbeat, slows down, and then stops completely after a sharp contraction of the waist and abdomen.
After Jonathan picked it up, he slowly straightened up, inserted the room card into Jiang Songhe's suit breast pocket, faced him, then stared at the loosely tied tie in front of him. He used both hands to push the Windsor knot back into place and asked, "Tell me, why is that?"
Jiang Songhe's Adam's apple bobbed as she turned her head away, coldly denying her previous question: "You're overthinking it."
"You're lying." The collar around her neck tightened suddenly.
His handsome face, which had been furrowed in anger, suddenly contorted. Jiang Songhe turned his head sharply, pointing his nose directly at the pair of long eyes that were already filled with annoyance. His brows then smoothed out with a long, drawn-out screech. He pulled off his tie and used his cold hands to stop this absurd push-and-pull game.
"Tell that bodyguard to take you to the hospital, or back to your apartment." Jiang Songhe pulled out her room key, her gaze sweeping away his bloodshot eyes. "I'm exhausted."
As the last vestiges of his smile faded from Jonathan's face, he made way for the doorway, but not entirely. Instead, he grabbed Jiang Songhe's wrist as she swiped her card and violently yanked it toward the lock: "Heh, since you're so tired, you should hurry inside and get some sleep. I'm the same way, why don't we go together?"
Jiang Songhe tried to stop, but failed several times. He couldn't understand where this person got so much strength despite being injured. Helpless, he had to wait until the door was opened and his hand was released before making his next move.
"No, thank you," he said. "You can have it. I'll leave."
After saying that, he turned and walked towards the elevator.
He encountered a roadblock that had already gotten up, and he said in a voice a hundred times colder, "Get out of the way."
Vasin stared intently at Jiang Songhe for a long time before a menacing gaze fell on Jiang's shoulder. Vasin's eyes immediately relaxed, and he took a few steps back, standing with his head down and hands at his sides against the open garden railing.
Jiang Songhe's steps were still unsteady and he was barely able to walk. Just as he reached the elevator, Jonathan swiftly took his place. Jiang Songhe was currently tormented by the complications of extreme fatigue and didn't even have the energy to be angry.
Like a lifeless fish, Jiang Songhe opened and closed his mouth a few times, uttering a few hoarse words: "You're lacking..."
"That's enough." Jonathan rolled his eyes at the air and swiped his room card on the elevator sensor. "You're overthinking it. I just remembered I still have to give a statement."
Jiang Songhe was speechless for a long time, choked up. The elevator doors opened, and Jonathan once again rushed into the car.
"Aren't you going to leave?" Jonathan raised his bloodied left arm, slapped it twice on the bottom of the button area, then pressed a certain point and urged impatiently, "Are you leaving or not? If you're not leaving, I'm closing the door."
"..."
Jiang Songhe hesitated for a while, then saw Jonathan remove his hand from the button and awkwardly enter the car.
The cabin was fairly spacious, but it was still a bit cramped to accommodate two very tall adult men. No matter how far Jiang Songhe stood, he was still diagonally side by side with Jonathan.
As the elevator doors remained closed for an extended period without any passengers entering, they gradually obscured the figures of the people still standing guard at the railing.
Can't I go to the police station to give a statement?
Can't I take a car to the police station?
Jiang Songhe watched the imposing figure disappear through the crack in the door, then glanced sideways at him out of the corner of her eye and asked the quiet air, "If he's not coming, are you going to walk?"
The air ignored him.
He shut his mouth.
A few seconds later, a barely perceptible hiss came from behind the air: "Hiss..."
He frowned: "I suggest you go to the hospital first."
"None of your business." The air finally responded, but it was as sparse as gold.
He closed his mouth again.
Whether it was an illusion or not, the elevator going down seemed to be going slower than it was going up. Jonathan clearly felt the same way. He stepped forward and appeared in Jiang Songhe's field of vision, irritably pressing the brightly lit buttons on the first floor a few times.
Jiang Songhe suddenly noticed an abnormal blush creeping onto the left side of Jonathan's face, along with large beads of sweat.
It's likely that the wound wasn't treated in time, causing inflammation and leading to a fever.
Boom boom boom boom, and a few more times.
"Tsk." Jiang Songhe took a step forward, controlled her frantically poking and pressing hand, turned her body to the side, and when she couldn't find a suitable angle to face it directly, she wrapped one arm around her shoulder and covered Jonathan's forehead with the other hand. "Stop pressing, it's pointless."
There was no need to compare his own body temperature; the burning heat in his palm told Jiang Songhe that Jonah was indeed running a fever, and a high one at that.
Two fingers pried open the hand on her forehead, and Jonathan turned his upper body, turning his face to meet Jiang Songhe's gaze. He raised an eyebrow and asked teasingly, "Didn't you say you didn't care? What is this all about?"
Jiang Songhe paused, his grip loosened slightly, and he let Jonathan's injured arm hang down in silence.
"Hmph." Jonah sneered, shoving aside the person pressed against his back. He tried to push forward with his left hand, but failed, so he switched to his right hand and continued to attack the innocent button, pounding and pounding...
Even though they were separated by distance, Jiang Songhe could still feel the intense heat between them, which made her face burn. An unnamed fire ignited from the spot where she had been pushed and from her eyes that were examining her wounds, fueled by the incessant, aggressive voice.
"I care!" He gritted his teeth, suddenly pulled Jonathan's left arm up, slammed it against the metal wall at the top edge of the button area, then clenched his right hand between the fingers and pulled it sharply, pressing it against Jonathan's left ribs, which were burning with fever. "'I care about you,' okay?! Stop fucking acting up!!"
"What do you mean 'it's done'? Did I force you to say that?!" Jonathan shouted defiantly under strong control.
Having lived for thirty-five years without ever uttering such cheesy words, Jiang Songhe was suddenly provoked into saying them, only to have the listener nitpick and nitpick over the exact words. She felt her anger surge to a fever pitch: "You're still not satisfied?! What more do you want from me...!"
Looking down, I saw Jonathan staring at me, crying.
The expression on her face, with tears streaming down her face, was exactly the same as in that dream.
"I was terrified! Asking you for a word of comfort felt like asking for your life! You damn bastard!"
"..." Jiang Songhe was stunned, and then felt that the anger was going down, so he secretly cursed and quickly retreated and let go, actively isolating the source.
"What? Only your 'mother' is allowed?" Jonathan pulled down his arm, unexpectedly tearing at his wound, and cried out in pain, "Ouch!"
Now it was Jiang Songhe's turn to angrily press a button. He had only pressed it a couple of times when, whether he pressed it wrong or too hard, the car was plunged into darkness. Before he could even react to what was happening, a creaking sound echoed from outside the car, followed by a halting stop.
Perhaps it stops on a certain floor, perhaps on a half-floor; the space is pitch black, and nothing can be certain.
Perhaps in the next second, it will plummet rapidly...
As expected, expressing affection only leads to hurt.
Jiang Songhe heard the gurgling sound of himself swallowing. He thought, the person he had pulled into the darkness had just escaped a life-threatening situation, was so young, and had a bright future ahead of him, but had suffered misfortune again because of him. He deserved to die...
The feeling of impending doom, which had been receding, surged back up.
The buzzing sound, which had been quiet, started up again.
The air began to thin, and Jiang Songhe felt his breathing becoming increasingly difficult. An invisible tide appeared in his blindness, about to overflow his mouth and nose. At this moment, a victim's question tore through the airtight cover and drifted into his ears.
Want to hold hands?
Jiang Songhe unconsciously hooked her fingers that were hanging by her side, but couldn't make a sound in response.
No, I won't. It would definitely touch the wound.
He heard a soft rustling sound in front of him, the sound of two completely different fabrics rubbing against each other. Soon only one was left. He groped his petrified long arm down the sleeve of the suit, stopping at the cuff.
"If you don't speak, I'll take it as you 'want'." The icy touch wasn't soft; when the two palms intersected, you could even hear a rustling sound. "Anyway, you don't have a mouth."
"..."
Would you like a seat?
Jiang Songhe's hand trembled, as if he was about to pull his fingers away from their clasped hands, but the back of his hand was immediately reinforced by another cold patch.
"You're really crying wolf! What are you thinking? I meant 'sit down and rest for a while' as in 'I'm so tired!'" The other person said reproachfully, but there was a sly chuckle in their words.
Jiang Songhe was half-pushed and half-pulled down by the two icy pieces of cloth, and sat down on the ground without minding the dirt.
Would you like to hear a lullaby?
...
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