Chapter 17: 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓢𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓮 𝓸𝓯 𝓛𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓲𝓷𝓰
After realizing it, Lu Zhen could not unknow it.
That was the problem with truth.
Once it found language—
it refused to become silence again.
For the next two days, he avoided looking directly at Lin Xu.
Not obviously.
Not enough for anyone else to notice.
But enough that Lin Xu noticed.
Of course he did.
He always did.
—
In class, Lu Zhen arrived early and buried himself in notes before Lin Xu entered.
At lunch, he answered too quickly, too briefly.
At Mist Café that evening, he chose the seat by the window instead of across from him.
Small things.
Subtle things.
But distance nonetheless.
And Lin Xu, after observing it quietly for long enough, finally asked:
"Did I do something wrong?"
The question came gently.
No accusation.
Only concern.
Lu Zhen nearly dropped the spoon in his coffee.
"…No."
Lin Xu tilted his head slightly.
"Then why are you avoiding me?"
"I'm not."
"You are."
Lu Zhen looked away toward the rain-blurred glass.
Because how could he explain this?
How could he say:
I looked at what I feel and now I don't know where to put it.
Instead, he muttered:
"I'm just tired."
Lin Xu studied him for a moment.
Then nodded.
But his eyes said he did not believe it.
—
The next afternoon brought a new problem.
A very visible one.
Lu Zhen was walking across the courtyard when he saw Lin Xu near the literature building steps—
speaking with Chen Rui.
Not unusual.
They were project partners.
That part was normal.
What wasn't normal—
was the way Chen Rui handed Lin Xu a neatly wrapped small gift bag.
And smiled shyly.
Even from a distance,
Lu Zhen could tell exactly what kind of moment it was.
His steps stopped automatically.
His expression hardened.
Lin Xu looked surprised.
Said something Lu Zhen couldn't hear.
Chen Rui laughed nervously and pushed the gift toward him again.
Then—
Lin Xu accepted it.
A sharp heat flared in Lu Zhen's chest so suddenly it startled him.
Irritation.
Jealousy.
Something uglier and more possessive than he wanted to name.
He turned and walked away before Lin Xu could see him.
Too fast.
Too angry.
Too aware of how irrational it felt.
—
By evening, Zhou Kai had dragged Song Yan to Lanqiao Night Market under the excuse of "fresh air and emotional healing."
"This is neither fresh nor healing," Song Yan said flatly as they were swept through crowded food stalls.
Zhou Kai grinned.
"You complain too much."
"You talk too much."
"And yet here we are."
Song Yan rolled his eyes—
but didn't deny it.
They stopped near a lantern stall glowing warm gold under dusk light.
For a while they walked quietly.
Then Zhou Kai said:
"My internship offer came today."
Song Yan turned.
"What?"
Zhou Kai shoved his hands into his coat pockets.
"It's in Beicheng."
Song Yan froze.
That city was far.
Far enough to matter.
"…When?"
"After this semester."
The crowd noise suddenly felt distant.
Song Yan stared at him.
"…You're leaving?"
Zhou Kai looked at him carefully.
"I haven't decided."
Song Yan's voice dropped lower.
"But you want to go."
Zhou Kai gave a small helpless smile.
"It's a good opportunity."
Song Yan looked away sharply.
Something unreadable crossing his face.
And for the first time—
their possible separation belonged to both of them now.
—
That night, rain returned again.
Lighter this time.
Lu Zhen had stayed late in the library, and by the time he left campus, most of the walkways were empty.
Halfway through the old eastern courtyard—
the rain suddenly strengthened.
Within seconds it became a downpour.
He barely made it beneath the covered archway outside the old humanities hall before stopping.
Someone was already there.
Lin Xu.
Holding one umbrella.
Of course.
For a moment neither spoke.
Then Lin Xu looked at him quietly.
"You left before class ended."
Lu Zhen folded his arms.
"I had work."
"That's not why."
Silence.
Rain hammered loudly around them.
Then Lin Xu held up the small gift bag from earlier.
"I was looking for you."
Lu Zhen stared at it.
"…Why?"
Lin Xu opened the bag and pulled out a wrapped box.
Inside—
a fountain pen.
Dark blue lacquer with silver trim.
"The presentation award gift," Lin Xu said calmly.
"Chen Rui gave it to all project partners."
Lu Zhen blinked.
The heat in his chest shifted instantly into embarrassment.
"Oh."
Lin Xu watched him for one long second.
Then:
"You thought it was something else."
Lu Zhen looked away immediately.
"…No."
Lin Xu's mouth curved faintly.
"That sounded jealous."
"I said no."
"That wasn't an answer."
Lu Zhen's ears burned.
Rain thundered harder against the stone outside.
And before he could form another denial—
lightning cracked violently overhead.
The sudden sound was sharp enough to split the air.
Lu Zhen flinched instinctively.
A reflex.
Fast.
Uncontrolled.
His body moved before thought did—
and in that startled instant,
he grabbed Lin Xu's sleeve
and stepped into him.
Too close.
Too sudden.
Too intimate.
For one suspended second—
they both froze.
Lu Zhen's hand was clenched tightly around Lin Xu's coat.
Their bodies nearly touching.
His breath uneven.
Lin Xu looked down at him—
not startled.
Not mocking.
Just very still.
Very gentle.
And then—
without saying anything—
Lin Xu lifted one hand and covered Lu Zhen's trembling fingers lightly with his own.
Warm.
Steady.
Grounding.
The contact sent a shock through Lu Zhen deeper than thunder ever could.
But this time—
he didn't pull away.
—
The rain softened gradually.
Neither moved.
Neither broke the silence.
Finally, Lu Zhen whispered, barely audible:
"…Sorry."
Lin Xu's voice came low and calm:
"For what?"
Lu Zhen swallowed.
"For this."
Lin Xu's hand remained over his.
And then he said the words that changed everything:
"You never have to apologize for reaching for me."
Lu Zhen's breath caught.
Something fragile cracked open inside him.
Not painfully.
Not like trauma.
Like fear giving way to trust.
And slowly—
very slowly—
he let himself lean closer.
Just enough for his shoulder to rest lightly against Lin Xu's arm.
A small weight.
A quiet surrender.
But deliberate.
And Lin Xu—
stayed exactly where he was.
As if holding that closeness
was the most natural thing in the world.