Chapter 49: Picking up flowers in the morning and evening 19
Geto Summer Oil turned his head and looked at the windowsill.
The newly replaced hydrangea in the celadon vase is in full bloom, with layers of crimson petals. Water droplets fall along the curled petals onto the wooden window, leaving dark water marks.
Is it hydrangea today?
What flower will it be tomorrow? Lily?
As soon as this thought came to mind, it was crushed in his throat by Geto Suguru.
Was he actually looking forward to it?
He stopped and stared at the hydrangea in front of him, his fingertips unconsciously stroking the cold lines, but memories began to surge in his mind.
"What are you looking at?"
The wet cotton cloth on his forehead was torn off, and Gojo Satoru tilted his head and stared at the vase, his white fingertips suddenly pointing to the cluster of hydrangeas.
"This color is too melancholy. Let's change it to lily."
The more Gojo Satoru thought about it, the more he felt that his idea was brilliant. As he spoke, he was about to pick up the lilies outside the corridor and swap the flowers between the two places.
Xia Yujie, who was writing at his desk, paused his pen when he heard the words, and the ink stain spread out on the rice paper to form a small black flower.
He lowered his eyes and stared at the smudged ink, his Adam's apple rolling silently, his thoughts stagnant as if entangled by the ink.
The wind outside the window lifted the half-rolled bamboo curtain, and the light and shadow flickered on his angular profile. In a trance, he couldn't tell whether it was the ink spreading or the inexplicable emotions spreading in his heart.
He looked up at the figure jumping and rummaging through the bouquet. Something in his chest trembled slightly.
"Why bother doing this meaningless work? Just leave it there."
Gojo Satoru turned around suddenly, and the lily petals in his arms fell and shattered into stars in the morning light.
He took two steps at a time and moved closer to the table, with his knees against the edge of the table almost touching the other person, getting closer to Geto Suguru.
"How can this be a meaningless job?"
The sky-blue eyes are sparkling, as if dotted with tiny stars.
"When you wake up every day and see a gorgeous flower like this in your room, don't you think that today's weather is really good, today's life is really hopeful, and today's work will be full of energy?"
As Gojo Satoru spoke, he reached out and grabbed Geto Suguru's wrist holding the pen, neatly lifted up the loose hair on his forehead, hooked his fingertips on the lily stem, and inserted it lightly into the other's fluffy bun like a hairpin.
When the petals brushed past his ears, Geto Suguru's eyelashes trembled, and a suspicious blush appeared on his earlobe as his wrist was restrained. He raised his hand to brush it away but stopped in mid-air, and finally turned into a sigh.
"Childish. It's just a fleeting thing."
But she didn't pull her hand back to take the flower off her hair. The warmth contained in the ending tone was three times softer than that of the lily.
"No!"
Gojo Satoru suddenly knelt on the cushion, his knees almost touching Geto's knees, and his warm breath brushed the man's red earlobe.
"Jie, dare you say you don't look forward to what kind of flowers I'll plant here tomorrow?"
He twisted his fingertips around the other person's hair and suddenly smiled slyly.
"Good student, stop saying one thing and doing another. I've seen it all. Every night before bed, you sneak a peek at the vase, wondering when I'll change the flowers."
Geto's ears instantly burned red, and he was about to open his mouth to retort when the other person leaned in closer, startling him back. Gojo Satoru took the opportunity to prop up the desk with one hand, gently inserting the remaining lily stalk into his fluffy bun, and grinning even more wildly.
"You have to learn to be honest, top student."
The veins on Xia Yujie's forehead bulged, and he gritted his teeth and said:
"If you continue to be so arrogant, you'll have to find a place to sleep on your own tonight!"
"Hey, are you going to get angry because you can't win the argument, Jie?" Gojo Satoru held his cheeks with both hands, looking hurt.
The throbbing in Xiayou Jie's forehead gradually subsided. He closed his eyes, remained silent for a while, and suddenly opened his mouth, "Wu, let's go out and have a fight!"
Gojo Satoru's laughter was still stuck in his throat. He subconsciously glanced at Geto Suguru's belly and rubbed his toes back half an inch, causing the wooden floor to squeak slightly.
However, the smile on her face was even more exaggerated than before. She put one hand on her waist and casually lifted her drooping hair with the other hand, causing the ends of her hair to swing in beautiful arcs in the air.
"Ah, it's all because of Gojo-sensei, so if you don't want to talk about it, then don't talk about it."
"Wu——" Geto Suguru clenched his fists and smiled kindly.
"Hi!" With an upward ending tone, it flew through the air like a light butterfly.
At first it was clear and bright, with a familiar cheerful tune. As the footsteps went deeper into the corridor, the sound was gradually crushed by the echoes of the corridor.
Only intermittent syllables remained, like a kite with its string pulled out, floating and falling into the void.
Xia Yujie lowered his eyes and saw a few fallen petals accumulated under the porcelain vase, with dark red lines like dried blood.
When I looked up, the entire yellow champagne field outside the window had been replaced by crimson autumn maple leaves at some point, as if someone had knocked over a rouge box, dyeing the twilight ambiguous.
He reached out to catch the half-bloomed flower that floated into the corridor, and suddenly remembered that all the mornings and evenings that he thought were a waste of time were hidden in these fleeting colors.
The wind blew through the corridor, lifting his sleeves, and in a trance he could still smell the faint scent of soapberry on Gojo Satoru.
At this moment, in the empty window frame, only hydrangeas are swaying in the twilight, as if stubbornly repeating an unfulfilled promise for someone who is absent.
Geto Suguru chuckled and pulled his hand back, "I'm looking forward to your flowers, Satoru."
"It's about our agreement to go to Okinawa together, and I'm breaking it again."
Doesn't Geto Suguru know that the Gojo family's attitude has changed recently?
No, how could he not know.
But he is here, his Wu still needs him and their help.
How could he abandon him?
Just Wu, they all bullied me, and they all bullied me when you were not around.
Geto Suguru carefully placed his hand on Gojo Satoru's cheek.
They all force me to choose between you and the child.
Wu, what should I do?
If the price for you to wake up has to be me, then I am willing.
As the one who brought disaster to you again, I am willing to take all the responsibility for restoring everything to its original state.
As Geto's fingertips brushed past his pale lips, they trembled slightly, as if he was afraid of disturbing his fragile dreams. He leaned forward very slowly, carefully lowering the side of his face to Gojo Satoru's chest.
When his ear finally rested against Gojo Satoru's heart, his hand gently rested on his shoulder, his knuckles turning white due to restraint. After a long time, he slowly closed his hand, as if he wanted to hold this warmth in his arms forever.
But before that, Wu, please hold me tighter.
The dusk, like ink, permeated every crack in the wooden house. The draft opened the paper sliding door to reveal a tiny gap, and the faint light that leaked in dragged a few broken silver lines on the tatami.
The faded Ukiyo-e scrolls cast eerie shadows on the walls, the talismans hanging between the beams moved without wind, and the spells drawn in cinnabar glowed dark red in the dim light, like traces of congealed blood.
In the central open space, a circular formation with a diameter of more than ten feet occupied most of the space.
Wooden pegs wrapped with indigo cloth strips were deeply wedged into the floor. The cloth strips were densely embroidered with Sanskrit, and the tassels hanging from the edges swayed gently in the air.
In the center of the formation lay a pile of withered cherry blossom branches, the petals of which had long since turned dark brown, yet were strung together by blood-colored threads to form a strange blood-colored eye pattern.
Under the unburned incense ashes in the copper basins in the four corners, dark red sparks flickered, and amidst the lingering green smoke, the talisman paper trembled, as if countless phantoms were moving back and forth among the incantations.
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
