The gathering lasted a long time, and it was near midnight when they returned home.
Gu Huai seemed to be in a good mood. As soon as they got inside, he went to the kitchen, taking out various ingredients from the fridge and turning on the stove.
Yan Chen didn’t join him. He took off his coat, sat on the sofa, and lit a cigarette, smoking quietly.
The swirling smoke blurred his handsome features, making it hard to read his expression.
Gu Huai busied himself boiling water and cooking instant noodles, saying little.
The room was silent.
Yan Chen looked a bit tired. After smoking for a while, he stubbed out the cigarette and laid down.
Gu Huai glanced at him and asked, “Tired?”
Yan Chen rubbed his forehead, his Adam’s apple moving as he spoke in a low voice, “Not really, just drank too much.”
Gu Huai raised an eyebrow. “Want me to make you some hangover tea?”
Yan Chen nodded and responded in a deep voice, “Thank you.”
Gu Huai pursed his lips and turned around, dragging his slippers as he headed to the tea room.
Yan Chen glanced sideways, staring at his back for a moment before slowly shifting his gaze to the window.
The night was pitch-black.
Everything around was quiet.
On the coffee table, the faint light from a phone screen stood out in the otherwise empty room.
The man glanced at it, picked it up, and found a text message.
It was from Ye Mu.
He casually glanced at it, then curled his lips into a careless sneer. This person was still the same as always, unchanged.
Always saying meaningless things, overly sentimental without any purpose.
Does he think he’s being deep?
It’s truly pathetic and laughable.
He lit a cigarette without much thought and started typing a reply.
—Does it have anything to do with you? Sending a message like this, hoping for my sympathy?
His fair, slender fingers typed quickly, but just as he was about to send it, he suddenly stopped.
If he sent it, the other person would definitely block this new number.
The man wearily pinched his forehead and retyped the message.
—What’s with the blessings? You’re still thinking about me, aren’t you?
The words were just typed out, but not long after, he quickly deleted them.
No, too ambiguous.
The man furrowed his brows ever so slightly, his long eyelashes drooping as he casually typed the most ordinary message.
—Did you get home?
After sending those few short words, he began to wait.
It had become a long-standing habit; whenever he sent a message, the other person would reply within three minutes.
For eight years, it had never changed.
But this time, something felt different.
Five minutes passed, ten minutes passed.
The only thing that responded to him was the cold, lifeless screen.
The man stared at the screen without moving, waiting and waiting.
But the reply never came.
Gu Huai brought over a glass of water, “Stop playing with your phone, drink this while it’s hot.”
Yan Chen’s long, narrow eyes darkened, and he silently took the glass, lowering his head to drink.
Gu Huai was quite hungry, so he didn’t pay much attention to him and went to the kitchen to eat noodles.
When he returned after eating, he found the man still sitting on the sofa.
“Want to take a shower together?” He was in a particularly good mood tonight and was looking for some excitement.
Yan Chen didn’t speak. After a moment of silence, he stood up and walked over.
Gu Huai smiled and reached out to embrace him.
Yan Chen lowered his head, caressing his cheek, and gave him a deep kiss.
Between their lips and teeth, the familiar taste of cigarettes lingered, inexplicably stirring something in him.
Gu Huai closed his eyes, his fair and delicate face showing signs of arousal.
The two of them, leaning on each other, slowly removed their clothes and entered the bathroom.
The sound of running water poured down, bringing warmth, and before long, the steam filled the room, blurring the glass surface.
All that could be vaguely seen were slender bodies and toned muscles.
Yan Chen held the person in his arms, but his dark eyes were as calm as still water, and his fair, handsome face showed no hint of emotion.
For the first time in his life, he realized that making love could be a dull and boring thing.
No passion, like plain water, just as uninteresting.
Gu Huai was particularly energetic tonight, asking for a second round after the first.
Yan Chen, always considerate towards him, didn’t refuse.
After a long while, when they finally laid in bed, both were utterly exhausted.
Gu Huai couldn’t take it anymore and closed his eyes first.
Yan Chen leaned back against the headboard, lighting a cigarette, and only stubbed it out once it burned to the end.
The choking smell wasn’t pleasant; he didn’t really like it, yet he smoked day after day, as if addicted.
He glanced at his phone, but the screen was still dark, with no word from that person.
Yan Chen’s long lashes drooped, casting shadows that deepened the gloom at the corners of his eyes.
That person’s unusual behavior was beginning to irritate him.
He felt a growing frustration.
Frowning, he sent another message.
—Why aren’t you replying?
The phone remained deathly silent, with not a single message coming through.
Just like before, nothing had changed.
The clock’s hands moved quickly, and in what seemed like an instant, an hour had passed.
His eyelids grew heavy, and he started to feel sleepy, but for some reason, he still wanted to wait.
The ashtray quickly filled up, the cigarette butts piling up like a small mountain, one after another.
“Buzz~”
In the quiet of the night, the sound of an incoming text message suddenly rang out.
Yan Chen’s tense lips relaxed slightly. He stared at his phone for a moment before picking it up, but his eyes darkened again when he saw the content.
It was a promotional message from a novel website, with a bunch of links and cover images.
At the end of the message was a brief description,
accompanied by a line of text:
You only have power over me because I love you.
