Rain under the eaves
The rain came down suddenly.
Ah Yu had just finished taking pictures of the old sycamore tree on the street corner when large raindrops began to pelt the lens cap, like someone scattering pearls from the sky. He exclaimed "Oh!" and hurriedly reached into his backpack for a rain cover. His fingertips had barely touched the zipper when the torrential rain had already flooded the sidewalk.
"Let's hide in the bakery!" Lin Wanqing grabbed his arm and ran diagonally across the street. Zhong Hua followed behind, carrying a large box containing equipment. The wheels on the bottom of the box rolled over the puddles, splashing up a string of small water droplets. By the time the three of them squeezed under the canvas awning of the bakery, their trouser legs were already mostly wet, and Ah Yu's camera bag had a dark patch on the outside, looking like a rag that hadn't been wrung out.
"Luckily, the equipment didn't get wet." Zhong Hua moved the box further into the shed, raised his hand to wipe his face, and rainwater dripped down his jawline, forming small puddles at his collarbone. Ah Yu then noticed that his hair was completely flat, with stray hairs sticking to his skin, revealing his brow bone, which was usually hidden in his hair, looking sharper than usual.
“What a pity about the sycamore tree I just photographed,” Ah Yu said, poking at the camera screen in frustration. “The lighting was just right. If the rain had come five minutes later, it would have been perfect.” As he spoke, he was about to raise the camera to photograph the sycamore branches outside the shed, bent under the weight of the rain, when Zhong Hua gently pressed his wrist down.
“The lens will get wet.” Zhong Hua’s voice was muffled by the sound of rain. Ah Yu then noticed how heavy the rain was; the edge of the canvas tent was like a curtain of water, and the wind would blow water in, making it feel cool against his ankles. He shrank his feet and was about to zip up his jacket all the way when a jacket with a faint scent of soap was suddenly draped over his shoulders.
"You wear it." Zhong Hua's voice came from above. Ah Yu looked up and saw that he was only wearing a thin white T-shirt. His left shoulder was already wet from the rain that had drifted in. The fabric clung tightly to his back, outlining the shape of his shoulder blade.
"I'm not cold—" Ah Yu wanted to take off her coat and give it back to him, but Zhong Hua pressed her wrist down. His palms were very hot, with thin calluses from years of holding a camera, and the warmth came through the damp cuffs like a small flame.
“Wear it.” Zhong Hua’s tone was flat, but his eyes were fixed on Ah Yu’s collar, which was wet with rain and the skin there was pale and cold. Ah Yu suddenly remembered a summer in college, when it was raining just like this. He was squatting in the rain and refused to leave in order to take pictures of the lotus flowers that had been knocked down in the pond. Zhong Hua stood next to him, tilting the umbrella all the way towards him, half of his own body soaked in the rain, muttering, “Hurry up and take the pictures, then we’ll go back and drink ginger soup.”
The rain was cold then, like ice beads falling on my neck, but Zhong Hua's arm holding the umbrella never moved until he finished shooting the last roll of film and then he realized that Zhong Hua's T-shirt was soaked through.
"The way you're protecting him is exactly the same as when he was taking pictures of lotus flowers in the rain back in college." Lin Wanqing had moved to the side at some point, twirling a long loaf of bread she had just bought from the bakery in her hand. Her eyes swept between the two of them, a mischievous smile on her face. A few strands of her hair were wet and clung to her cheeks, but she didn't seem to care. Instead, she shoved the bread into Ah Yu's hands, saying, "It's fresh out of the oven, warm up your hands."
Zhong Hua didn't reply. His gaze passed over Ah Yu's shoulder and landed on the camera he was holding. The lens was pointed directly at the rain curtain outside the shed. Fine raindrops rolled in winding lines on the glass, blurring the street scene across the way into a warm yellow hue. He suddenly spoke, his voice as soft as smoke blown away by the wind: "The rain is cool."
Ah Yu's heart skipped a beat for no apparent reason. He lowered his head and took a bite of bread; the aroma of wheat mixed with the warmth filled his throat, but it couldn't quell the heat rising in his ears. The warm light from the bakery shone through the glass door, falling on Zhong Hua's rain-drenched profile, making the water droplets on his eyelashes look like shattered diamonds. Ah Yu, almost unconsciously, raised his camera and quietly pointed the lens at him.
The shutter clicked softly, drowned out by the sound of the pouring rain. Zhong Hua seemed oblivious, still gazing absently at the rain curtain, his lips slightly pursed, as if lost in thought. Ah Yu, staring at the image on the camera screen, suddenly realized that Zhong Hua's gaze wasn't actually on the rain, but rather through the rain curtain, fixed on her hand holding the camera.
"What are you filming?" Lin Wanqing leaned over to look. Ah Yu hurriedly hid the camera in her arms, but Lin Wanqing reached out and pressed down on the screen. "Oh, are you secretly filming our top student Zhong?" She smiled and raised her eyebrows, pointing her finger at Zhong Hua's eyes on the screen. "Look at his eyes, they're exactly the same as the way he looked at you when you filmed the sunset last time."
Ah Yu's face flushed instantly. Just as he was about to retort, Zhong Hua turned his head, his gaze lingering on Ah Yu's face for two seconds. Suddenly, he reached out and turned up the collar of Ah Yu's coat to block the raindrops blowing in. "Don't catch a cold." His fingertips accidentally touched Ah Yu's earlobe, which was burning hot. Zhong Hua withdrew his hand as if burned, but the tip of his ear quietly turned red.
The rain was still falling, and the canvas awning rattled in the wind. The space under the awning was small, and the three of them were huddled together, their breathing clearly audible. The bakery door was pushed open, and warm, buttery steam rushed out, mingling with the earthy smell of the rain, creating a strange yet comforting aroma.
Ah Yu was biting into his bread when he suddenly noticed something else on Zhong Hua's coat besides the smell of soap. It was like the smell of a sun-dried quilt, or the smell of film preserved for many years in an old camera—warm, with a reassuring sense of security. He quietly moved closer to Zhong Hua, letting their shoulders lightly touch. Through the two layers of fabric, he could feel the warmth of Zhong Hua's body, like a small, constant-temperature heater.
"When do you think this rain will stop?" Lin Wanqing's voice broke the silence. She folded the empty bread bag into a small square and stuffed it into her canvas bag. "I have an appointment with a client to see the sample photos."
“Soon.” Zhong Hua took his phone out of his pocket. The screen showed the weather forecast for one hour later: “Showers turning cloudy at four o’clock.” He paused and added, “I checked the route. There’s a subway station nearby. I can get there once the rain lightens.”
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