He kicked open the bedroom door, but the moment the door closed, he heard the sound of glass breaking in the living room.
He lay in bed, staring at the crystal chandelier on the ceiling. The moonlight from outside the window filtered through the screens, casting spider-web-like shadows on the floor.
He Yifan's mind unconsciously began to recall the scene that just happened on the sofa. The man's burning eyes seemed to want to swallow him alive.
The hot chest that accidentally touched him... The other person's breath sprayed on his face, and the hand around his waist was so warm and strong...
"He Yifan..."
Jiang Ju's voice suddenly exploded in his memory, carrying with it the smell of gunpowder in the warehouse that night. Back then, He Yifan was tied to a chair, watching Jiang Ju slit his sleeves with a dagger. The madness in the man's eyes as the blade sliced across his skin was exactly the same as it was now.
"What the hell... what was I thinking... How could I possibly like that bastard..."
He Yifan slapped his face repeatedly, trying to regain his composure. He felt the tooth marks on his earlobe, a slight sting mixed with a strange numbness.
My fingers slid to my neck and touched the fine bite marks. I suddenly remembered that Jiang Ju once said that these marks were to let others know who he belonged to.
He Yifan would never fall for that lunatic, but his red ears betrayed him. In the darkness, He Yifan could hear his own heartbeat, beating against the Egyptian cotton sheets Jiang Ju had given him.
In the distance came the ticking of a clock. It was 2:17 in the morning, exactly the same time as when they first kissed three years ago.
At five in the morning, He Yifan was awakened by the sound of the coffee machine. Rubbing his forehead, he sat up and found himself covered with Jiang Ju's cashmere blanket. The shirt he had left in the living room last night was neatly folded on the bedside table.
He pulled the shirt over and put it on. There was still a lingering scent of cedar perfume on the collar, which was lighter than the one on Jiang Jue, like the residual warmth of his body temperature.
In the living room, Jiang Ju, wearing a black turtleneck sweater, was working on documents. His left hand was bandaged, and a little blood seeped between his fingers—probably from the scratch when he broke the wine glass last night.
Hearing footsteps, he said without raising his head: "Come and take medicine."
On the coffee table were warm water, anti-inflammatory drugs, and a tube of scar removal cream. He Yifan remembered that every time Jiang Ji hurt him, he would use this minty ointment, saying "Don't leave scars, it won't look good" while applying it.
"No need to be so hypocritical." He Yifan kicked off his slippers and walked barefoot to the kitchen to pour water. The refrigerator was filled with his favorite cherries and Haagen-Dazs, and on the top shelf was the new game console he had casually mentioned yesterday.
He stared at the console and suddenly remembered that Jiang Cheng had said he wanted to play games online together.
"What happened last night..." Jiang Ju's voice came from behind, with a rare hesitation, "I was impulsive."
He Yifan turned around and saw the man standing in the morning light. There was a fresh scratch on his collarbone exposed by the collar of his sweater - it was left by his struggle last night.
Jiang Ju's hair was a little messy, and there was a faint dark circles under his eyes, as if he had not slept all night.
"So?" He Yifan raised his eyebrows and deliberately moved closer. "Boss, do you want to apologize or compensate?"
Jiang Ju's eyes darkened, and he reached out to grab the back of his neck and pressed him against the refrigerator. This action was so familiar that He Yifan could even foresee where the other party was going to bite in the next second.
But Jiang Ju just gently nudged the tip of his nose, and said in a voice so low it sounded like he was talking to himself: "Don't get too close to him."
He Yifan wanted to laugh, but when he saw the bloodshot in Jiang Ju's eyes, he suddenly couldn't laugh.
He recalled last month in the hospital, when Jiang Ju had a high fever and still held his hand, saying, "Don't leave me." The man's palm was burning hot, yet more fragile than ever.
"Got it." He turned away and reached out to push Jiang Ju away, but as he turned around, his wrist was gently grabbed. Jiang Ju took out a black card from his pocket and stuffed it into his hand: "Pick whatever you want to buy."
He Yifan looked at the gold-stamped pattern on the card and suddenly remembered the pair of Air Jordans that Jiang Cheng mentioned yesterday. He ran his fingertips along the edge of the card, and when he looked up, a provocative smile appeared on his lips again: "Is this hush money, or money for keeping a mistress?"
Jiang Ju's eyes instantly turned cold, but when He Yifan turned around, he heard the young man whisper: "If you go crazy again next time, I will really leave."
The morning light filtered through the kitchen blinds, weaving interlaced stripes of light and dark between the two of them. Jiang Ju looked at He Yifan's back, remembering the glint of water in the boy's eyes on the sofa last night.
He reached out and touched his earlobe, where he still felt the slight pain from He Yifan's nails.
The first bird song reached him in the distance, and He Yifan gritted his teeth as he stuffed his black card into his trouser pocket. He knew he had lost this game once again. But when he saw the bandage on Jiang Ju's left hand, a sense of inappropriate heartache welled up in his heart.
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