Chapter 34
The warm yellow floor lamp casts a quiet light in the corner of the living room, gently enveloping the two figures, one large and one small, on the sofa.
Atobe had taken off his coat, leaving only a neatly ironed white shirt, two buttons undone at the collar, revealing a sharp, defined collarbone. He lowered his head slightly, his face shimmering softly under the light, his usual sharp edge softened by his concentration.
Xiaokong's chubby body was like a soft and sticky dumpling, rolling around on his strong thighs, biting a colorful soft rubber, and arching around in Jibei's hands.
Atobe didn't mind the trouble. He took it with his slender fingers and handed it back patiently, repeating the process over and over again. There was a very faint smile on the corner of his mouth, which he himself didn't even notice.
Aunt Yuko had finished her work and left long ago, leaving only the three of us in the huge house.
A strange silence filled the air, broken only by Xiaokong's occasional voice. I sat on the sofa next to him, my eyes fixed on Xiaokong, but I could clearly sense another, more powerful, gaze occasionally passing by.
"Xiaokong seems to have gained weight recently." I tried to break the silence and found the safest topic.
"Yeah, it's heavy when I hold it in my arms." Atobe responded in a low voice with a hint of laziness after teasing Xiaokong.
"Aunt Yuko said he's really good at eating now, and freeze-dried cookies are his favorite."
"Really? Next time, bring it some Hokkaido..."
The conversation fell like beads that had broken off the string.
Silence settled down again, with a barely perceptible tension, and one could almost hear the sound of dust settling in the air.
Just as I was secretly thinking about how to tactfully remind him that it was getting late, Atobe suddenly let out an extremely suppressed, painful gasp.
He raised his hand and pressed hard on his temples with his knuckles, his brows tightly furrowed, and even the tiny veins on his forehead could be seen throbbing.
With his eyes closed, his thick eyelashes cast a small shadow under his eyes, his thin lips were pressed into a pale straight line, and his whole body showed a rare, almost fragile posture of endurance.
"What's wrong?" My heart skipped a beat and I immediately stood up and approached him.
As soon as I approached, a very faint but unignorable smell of alcohol lingered, mixed with the usual crisp cedar scent on his body, forming a contradictory smell.
"Headache." His voice was hoarse, and he squeezed out two words from his tightly pursed lips. His eyes were still closed, and it seemed that even opening them was difficult for him.
"Have you been drinking?" I squatted down, my eyes level with his, and my brows unconsciously frowned.
There was indeed sake and champagne at the celebration party.
"Well... I took a few sips of the drinks at the banquet." He responded vaguely, feeling a little uncomfortable at being exposed, and a hint of unspeakable grievance.
Like a large cat whose fur is wet by the rain, but still maintains its pride.
Seeing him take off his armor and reveal his discomfort, the hardness in my heart softened unconsciously. Xiaokong seemed to sense that the atmosphere was not right and stopped playing. He looked at Atobe curiously with his big round eyes.
"Don't push yourself." I lowered my voice, with a gentleness I didn't even realize was there, "Stay back and rest. I'll get you some hangover medicine."
Atobe didn't say anything, but just leaned his head obediently and somewhat weakly on the large and soft backrest of the sofa.
I hurried into the kitchen, dug out my usual hangover medicine, and poured a glass of warm water. I watched him frown as he swallowed the pills, his fingers still rubbing his throbbing temples.
On a late autumn night, the chill seeped in through the cracks in the window. I caught a glimpse of his coat draped across the sofa: "Put on your coat. It's cold tonight."
Atobe seemed to be pricked by something and opened his eyes suddenly. Although he was still in pain, his eyes instantly turned cold, with undisguised disgust: "No. The coat is stained with Yamamoto's perfume, it smells bad."
This sudden, almost childish pickyness and willfulness left me stunned for a moment.
Looking at his furrowed brow and stubborn eyes, I sighed helplessly.
Forget it, why bother with a drunk and a headache patient.
She turned around and took out a clean off-white wool blanket from the bedroom cabinet, shook it out, and gently draped it over him, covering his chest.
The blanket, with its warmth from the sun and the faint scent of detergent, seemed to soothe his tense nerves a little, and his frown relaxed a little.
"Are you feeling better? Why don't you go back and rest early?" I asked tentatively.
"No." He refused immediately, his voice muffled from under the blanket, with unquestionable stubbornness.
He lowered his eyes to look at Xiaokong who had climbed back onto his lap and was trying to nibble on his shirt button. His fingers unconsciously played with the little fellow's soft fur. "Spend more time with Xiaokong... If you don't spend more time with me, I don't know when..."
He paused, and the rest of his words disappeared vaguely between his lips and teeth, like a sigh.
But I understood the lingering sound.
One day, Xiaokong will forget that he once relied on his father Tezuka for a short time.
These words seemed to be spoken to Xiaokong, but also seemed to have a hidden meaning.
My heart felt like it was being gently tickled by a feather, a faint ripple of itching. Before I could dwell on it, he spoke again, his voice low and garrulous, a rare, drunken nagging.
"I don't like Yamamoto." He said abruptly, as if to clarify something, or as if he was talking to himself, "I never liked him."
He paused, as if trying to form his words, or perhaps fighting a headache, "The Atobe family doesn't need to rely on marriage to consolidate anything. I'm not that kind of person."
"Yeah, yeah." I responded vaguely, looking at his eyes which seemed a little blurry due to headache and alcohol, I was sure in my heart that he was really drunk.
The person who usually saves words and controls everything is now like a stubborn and aggrieved child, mumbling what is in his heart.
This contrast... is actually a little indescribably cute?
Time passed by minute by minute, and the clock on the wall pointed to eleven o'clock. Xiaokong was tired from playing, so he lay on his lap, and his little head began to doze off little by little.
"It's too late, we should rest." I picked up the dazed Xiaokong and looked at Jibe again, "Shall we call the driver to pick you up?"
Atobe leaned back on the sofa, the blanket pulled up to his chin. Hearing this, he slowly fumbled in his pockets, then opened his hands, his palms empty, his eyes filled with a bit of innocent blankness: "My phone...is out of battery."
“…”
Looking at his face, which looked particularly pale under the light and had a hint of self-righteousness and suspicion of cheating, I completely lost my temper. I couldn't really kick this drunk and headache-inducing young master out to the cold wind, could I?
"Never mind," I sighed resignedly. "The guest room is empty, you can sleep there tonight. I'll make the bed."
After making the bed in the guest room, I came out and saw Atobe trying to stand up from the sofa. His tall figure had just straightened up when his feet suddenly stumbled, his body swaying uncontrollably and he was about to fall.
"Be careful!" My heart tightened, and I practically lunged forward, barely catching his arm. His weight instantly pressed down on me, carrying with it the scorching heat and the reek of alcohol. His arm muscles were tense as if they were made of iron.
It seems he is more drunk than expected.
"I'm fine." He said vaguely, trying to stand firmly, but his body was still shaking slightly.
"Why are you trying to be so brave?" I muttered to myself, and simply put one arm around his narrow waist, and with the other hand, I tightly grasped his arm, half supporting and half holding him, and moved step by step towards the guest room.
He didn't struggle anymore, letting me lead him along. However, most of his weight was on me, making each step difficult. After just a few steps, he was already sweating.
After finally getting him to sit down by the bed in the guest room, I immediately checked to see if he was vomiting. He sat on the edge of the bed with his head down, his breathing a little heavy, but his eyes seemed clear, though with a deep sense of fatigue.
"Do you feel like vomiting? The bathroom is over there." I pointed in the direction.
He shook his head and said in a low voice: "No."
"Then... go to bed early." I looked at his drooping, somewhat fragile face, and the strange feeling in my heart surfaced again. I closed the curtains for him and dimmed the bedside lamp. "Call me if you need anything."
"Yeah." He responded softly without looking up.
I gently closed the guest room door, leaned against the cool panel, and breathed a sigh of relief. The warm yellow light in the living room flowed quietly, dispelling the chill of the late autumn night and the chaotic tension of the moment.
In the doghouse, Xiaokong was sleeping soundly.
In the guest room... lies the unpredictable Atobe Keigo.
The world seemed to have quieted down for a while.
The heavy door blocked out the faint light from outside and also blocked out all sounds.
In the darkness, Atobe Keigo, who had been "drunk to the point of unconsciousness", slowly opened his eyes. In the dim light, his eyes were sharp and clear, without a trace of drunkenness.
He sat up, leaning his back against the soft headboard. His movements were smooth, without any trace of his earlier stumble. His fingertips groped on the bedside table and picked up the "dead" phone.
The screen lit up, and the dim cold light illuminated his angular jawline and the almost imperceptible curve at the corner of his lips that seemed to convey a sense of success.
His fingertips slid and clicked quickly on the screen.
The browser's simple search box is brought up.
The faint fluorescent light of the screen reflected in his focused eyes, and he typed word by word:
[Which zodiac signs are most compatible with Gemini women?]
The search results popped up instantly. His slender fingers slid across the screen, his eyes quickly scanning the constellation analyses. Finally, his gaze stopped at a page that listed a particular constellation pairing.
Libra.
Match rating: ★★★★★
Analysis: Libra and Gemini, both air signs, possess active minds and a pursuit of harmony. Libra's elegance and composure can accommodate Gemini's agility and variability, while Gemini's agility and intelligence can bring endless joy to Libra. Mutual understanding and smooth communication make them soulmates filled with wisdom and fun...
He stared at the "Libra" logo, then looked at the row of five glittering stars behind the matching index, and his fingertips unconsciously tapped the line of words.
Libra.
Well, it's his zodiac sign.
The cold light of the screen reflected the slightly raised corners of his lips, and the arc expanded silently in the darkness, carrying a determined, gorgeous and secret pleasure.
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