Symbiosis - Chapter 14

It was Xie Zhao.

I didn’t turn over. Gritting my teeth through a wave of discomfort, I tried to steady my voice and asked, none too politely, “What are you climbing up here for?”

He didn’t answer immediately.

He only touched my lower back gently and said, “It’s raining.”

Obviously.

“I know.”

“Can you let me sleep on the bed tonight? I won’t disturb you again.” He paused, then added very softly, “The floor’s so cold.”

Without waiting for my answer, he moved closer.

I wanted to get away, but all my strength seemed to have drained out of me. I could only let him.

I was about to speak when several low claps of thunder sounded outside without warning.

My heart lurched. I could barely control my body’s involuntary shaking.

Being so close, Xie Zhao quickly noticed. After two seconds of silence, he asked, “Are you frightened?”

Stubborn to the last, I said, “No.”

He stroked the back of my hand. “Then why are you shaking?”

“Jinque Bay gets a lot of thunderstorms after spring starts.” He sighed softly behind me. “Does that often scare you too much to sleep?”

I buried my head deeper under the quilt and clenched my jaw. I wasn’t going to answer.

After a while, I felt him slip carefully out of bed. There was a little rummaging, then the sound of water boiling in my cheap plastic kettle.

I wanted to see what he was up to in the middle of the night.

But the covers were a barrier that made me feel safe. I didn’t want to leave them.

I could only stay cautiously curled up. I was exhausted, but some part of me remained on edge, afraid thunder would burst again at any moment. Even as my eyelids fought to close, I didn’t dare fall completely asleep.

I don’t know how long I endured it.

Someone lifted the quilt very gently, drew me out, and settled me against a warm chest.

Half dazed, I opened my eyes a little. Fatigue softened my voice. “What do you want now?”

“Have some water.” He supported my head in one hand and brushed my untidy fringe aside.

His tone was even, without any particular emotion. But his movements were so light that they gave an illusion of tenderness.

“Your lips are cracked.” The rim of a glass touched my mouth. “Drink first, then go back to sleep.”

No one had cared for me like this since my mother left. Dry lips were nothing. Even illness, fever, and beatings were things I’d simply endured on my own since childhood.

Uneasy, I instinctively turned my head away from the glass.

Then I struggled free of Xie Zhao’s arms and looked back at him.

“What’s wrong?” He paused, still holding it. “I let it cool. It’s not hot.”

Without speaking, I leaned forward and took a tiny sip from the glass in his hand.

“Tastes awful.” I fell back under the quilt and said coldly, “Bitter.”

It was true. Jinque Bay’s water was poor, both astringent and bitter. People who were a little better off bought purified drinking water.

I obviously wasn’t one of them. Normally I wasn’t this fussy. I didn’t know what had got into me tonight, complaining about the taste of water.

Xie Zhao said nothing more. He put the glass on the bedside cupboard, switched off the light, and climbed into bed again, holding me from behind.

“Then don’t drink it,” he said. “Are you still scared?”

Of course I was. Otherwise, I would have pushed him away already.

Clutching a corner of the quilt, I curled up a little more and shifted toward the wall.

It was an obvious invitation. I was making room for him.

He didn’t stand on ceremony. He lifted a corner of the covers and slipped beneath them, moving from holding me through the quilt to putting his arm directly around my waist.

“I used to have a kitten,” he said suddenly. “It was afraid of thunder too. Whenever there was a storm, it insisted on climbing into bed and sleeping with someone.”

“Normally it hated being touched. Even a pat on the head made its fur bristle. It only let me hold it when there was thunder.”

He paused, then laughed softly. “Just like you.”

A terrible comparison. I was instantly annoyed. I should have pushed him away and told him to get off again.

But he was so warm. When he came close, a very faint fragrance always drifted toward me.

It was probably ordinary shower gel, sold in every supermarket in Jinque Bay for no more than twenty yuan. On him, though, it seemed different.

I couldn’t push him away. I wanted to move closer, closer to the source of that scent.

In the danger of a thunderstorm, he made me feel safe.

So I didn’t move. I only stared at the wall in the dark and stiffly picked up the conversation.

“Where’s your kitten now?”