Chapter 3
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Once we reached my house, he helped me inside and lied me down on my couch with my back facing up. "Thank you." I bowed my head slightly towards him. He said nothing. His only response was to kneel on his knees in front of me, with his hands on his thighs. He sat there and just stared at me with the same emotionless expression. Weird. "Are you planning on staying?" I asked him but he didn't reply of course. He just continued to watch me lie here. I looked in his eyes and I could tell he was worried. I tried to get up but the sharp pain in my back told me it wasn't a wise idea to move. From the corner of my eye, I saw his body move slightly as if to stop me but when I lied back down he sat there, motionless. "Can you get me some ice please?" I asked despite thinking it would be useless to ask him. He tilted his head to the side slightly, like a confused puppy. Cute. I quickly shook the thought out of my head.
"Ice. It's small, cubed and cold." I was surprised when he got up and walked over to the kitchen. Maybe he does understand me. He comes back with an empty pot. Then again, maybe not. I shook my head and said once again, "Ice." The black haired boy looked at the pot for a few moments and then walked back into the kitchen. He soon came back with a spatula. What would I want with a spatula? I shook my head once more and pointed to bag. I watched as he put the spatula in his pocket and went to get my bag. He brought it over to me and sat back down in his previous spot, watching me intensely. I reached down into my bag and retrieved a pen and paper. I flipped to a blank page and scribbled a cube on the paper, attempting to draw ice. Once finished, I showed him the picture and he made a perfect "O" shape with his mouth. He quickly stood up and went to the kitchen. I heard some rustling and he came back quickly with my toaster. Wow. I couldn't help but laugh. He was just like a little kid. I shook my head once more and his face fell to disappointment. I waved him over and I quickly drew, well attempted to draw, my fridge. I then drew an arrow pointing to the top indicating my freezer. I flipped the notebook over to show him and he turned back to the kitchen.
It wasn't exactly what I was looking for, but it worked nonetheless. The boy in black had placed my ice cube tray on my back, facing up. It was cold enough so I didn't complain. I had my arms folded under my head with my eyes closed. The ice on my back was slowly melting the pain away. I open my eyes to see him staring at me, still sitting as still as a statue. I weekly smile at him and I see the corners of his lips twitch. He's an odd one. I was brought back to reality when I heard my cell phone ringing. "Xiang ai shang ji qi ai shang ni. She's a ma- ma- ma- ma- machine. She's a ma- ma- ma- ma- machine." The boy in black jumped slightly at the noise and looked toward's my room questioningly. It must be Luhan. He looked at me and pointed to the room door with his index finger while tilting his head. Adorable. I point my finger towards my room door. He gets up and slowly walks over to my room, peaks inside and continues in. Luhan's gonna chew me out for not calling him. He returns with my phone, cradling it as if it were something precise, and hands it to me. I quickly answer, not having to look at the ID.
"Nǐ hǎo." I answer. "Don't 'nǐ hǎo' me Wu Fan! Why didn't you call me?! Or pick up your phone?! I must have called you at least 30 times!" He's pissed all right. He only uses my real name when he is. I quickly look at my phone. 29 missed calls. 50 unread text messages. Yikes. "I'm sorry! I got.." Beat up. "...caught up." I lied. "You're okay though, right? I know how trouble finds you." Trouble isn't the word. How about disaster? Distress maybe? "I'm perfectly fine." I lie again. I look over to see the boy watching me in, I would say, fascination. Like he was studying me almost. "Are you sure? You seem distracted." Who wouldn't be when they were considered a test subject? "I'm not, I'm just tired. I promise I'll call you when I wake up." My eyes focused on the boys chocolate ones. "Promise?" "Promise. Wǎn ān." I watched the boys head tilt to the side again curiously. "Wǎn ān." I hung up the phone and noticed him watching my hand, his eyes following the phone. I held it out to him and he took it, delicately. He turn it in his hands a few times and poked at it. I watched him in silence. He really is like a kid. Like he's never seen a cell phone before. He then handed it back to me. I took it and tossed it into my bag so I wouldn't forget it. I looked back to the mysterious boy in black and just noticed he was wearing the same clothes I had lent him. I didn't have time to wash his other clothes but made a mental note to wash them soon.
I looked up at the clock and noticed it was about to hit 2:30am. That's impossible. I couldn't have been home for more then an hour. How long was I knocked out for? I usually get out of school at 4:30 and it takes 20 minutes to get home. Maybe 30 today... I did the math silently in my head and concluded I must have been knocked out for at least seven to eight hours. I might as well have died. The boy in black flinched slightly in the corner of my eye. I turned my attention to him and raised a questioning eyebrow. He scooted a little closer to me. His dark eyes help that worried look again. I smiled weakly, stretched out my arm and placed my hand softly on his matted, messy black hair. I watched his eyes soften and his lips twitch at the corners. He closed his eyes and his facial expression turned calm. I closed my eyes along with him, feeling the calm atmosphere curl around my aching body. It wasn't long until I felt my body getting lighter, and I was floating away to gentle dreams.
The boy in black sat there until the sun started to color the sky in warm oranges and pinks. The taller boys hand had dropped from his head long ago but he still felt the need to stay by his side. He looked to the window to see the sun shyly peaking out and then looked back at the messy haired brunette on the couch, sleeping soundly with the occasional mumble of unrecognizable words. He moved closer, ever so slightly and cautiously lifted his hand and left it hovering over the brunette. With slightly trembling fingers, he gently ran his fingers through the soft stands of the taller. The boy in black knew there was something about his fragile boy that brought him in, he just couldn't place it.
He left the boys side once again, and after struggling with the door's lock for a few minutes, he got it open. He closed it this time, noting that's what the brunette did whenever he came and left. He hoped over the railing of the apartment building and landed on the floor, that was about two floors down, flawlessly and effortlessly. He then moved to the nearby ally when he had built a small shelter of cardboard boxes so he could keep a close eye on the brunette. It wasn't comfortable, but it made due. The boy in black questioned countless times where he was and how he had got there but no answers ever came. He figured everything would be fine, as long as he stood by the brunette's side.
