The morning streets were gradually coming to life. Sunlight streamed through narrow alleys, spilling over cobblestone roads. Outside the breakfast shop, car horns and chattering voices intertwined with the rhythm of the city. Lan glanced at her phone and softly broke the silence.
"We should head back soon and pack up. Let's not miss the afternoon train."
Di didn't say anything—he simply nodded.
Jie stood up, nudging his chair quietly. His gaze flicked between Di and Lan. "Let's get back to the hotel."
"Okay." Lan gave a faint smile that rested calmly on her face.
Di followed in silence. The three of them stepped out of the breakfast shop, walking into the brightening light of the day.
—
"I'll head off first. See you at the hotel lobby in half an hour!" Lan waved as she stepped out of the elevator, her voice echoing just before the doors closed.
The elevator lighting was a little dim. Standing behind Di, Jie felt a vague weight pressing on his chest—an unease he couldn't explain.
Di had been off all morning. His silence wasn't the usual kind—it was suffocating, like something heavy had collapsed inward.
And then there was that faint red mark just visible beneath Di's sleeve. Clear. Distinct.
Not a mosquito bite. Not a rash.
More like… something that shouldn't be there.
—
The hotel room door clicked shut. The sound sealed the space with a sudden quiet.
Without speaking, they began to pack.
The rustle of plastic bags, the zipping of suitcases—those became the only things filling the air.
Jie wrapped up his charger, but his focus was entirely elsewhere. His eyes kept darting back to the red mark on Di's arm. He tried to ignore it, but the thought pricked at him like a thorn.
He couldn't hold back anymore.
—
"Hey… what's that red mark on your arm?"
His voice was soft, almost like he was talking to himself.
Di didn't pause. He just kept folding a T-shirt and tucked it into his backpack.
"Was it an allergy? Or… did I scratch you last night?" Jie chuckled nervously, trying to ease the awkwardness.
Still no response.
Di picked up another shirt.
"I'm asking you something," Jie pressed, a little more firmly.
Di remained silent, but his movements clearly sped up, as if trying to escape this space.
—
Jie couldn't hold it in any longer.
"What's wrong with you?"
"If I did something wrong, can't you just say it? Why are you acting like I owe you something?"
Still no answer. Di shoved a pair of socks into his shoes and aligned them neatly into his bag.
This cold shoulder—worse than arguing.
Jie's chest felt like it might explode. He grabbed the door handle and yanked it open, voice sharp with frustration. "Fine. Keep pretending I don't exist!"
The door slammed shut behind him. The sound hit like a skipped heartbeat.
—
The room fell silent.
And with that, all of Di's strength drained away.
He collapsed onto the pile of clothes, his hands still gripping an unfinished shirt.
Tears had already started falling the moment Jie first asked about the mark. He just hadn't let them make a sound.
Now, he didn't have to hold back.
—
He leaned forward, burying his face into the clothes. His shoulders trembled.
It wasn't anger. It wasn't sadness.
It was that impossible contradiction—when you're misunderstood, and yet someone suddenly gets too close.
—
Last night's embrace… he had thought it was a dream.
But when he woke up, Jie was still holding him, real and solid behind him. Of course, he'd tried to pull away—only to end up tangled and exhausted.
In that moment, he'd nearly whispered, "Can I… stay like this?"
Because ever since Grandma passed, no one had held him to sleep.
—
And this wasn't the first time Jie had embraced him.
—
Back in middle school, after the misunderstanding about the Pikachu card…
Di had been humiliated. Misjudged. Until suddenly, the card was handed back to him.
Jie said, lightheartedly, "Here. Yours. Consider it paid back."
Di didn't respond. He just took the card, and the tears broke free.
His first time crying in front of a friend.
His first time realizing—he wasn't okay.
Jie had panicked. He couldn't find the words. So he simply reached out—
And hugged him.
—
It was an awkward embrace.
No words. No back-patting. Not even much strength.
But Di would never forget—it was the first warmth he'd felt since Grandma's death.
—
He'd always thought the thing that left the biggest impression that day was the shiny card.
But it wasn't.
It was that hug.
That quiet, unconditional, perfectly-timed hug.
—
The tears came faster now.
He reached for the box of tissues by the bed, only to find it out of reach.
Just as he was about to get up—
A tissue was placed gently into his hand.
—
Startled, he looked up.
Jie was right there beside him, crouched low. His eyes locked on Di's face, voice soft.
"I didn't leave."
—
Di couldn't speak. He simply stared, stunned.
Jie hesitated, then gently pulled him into an embrace.
—
"You can cry," he said. "Just don't push me away."
—
Di didn't resist. He didn't flinch.
He slowly returned the hug, resting his face on Jie's shoulder—like a child who had walked through wind and rain for too long, finally finding a place to shelter.
—
He never asked the question lingering in his heart:
Last night… did you hug me because you mistook me for Lan?
But in that moment, he didn't need an answer.
Because Jie's embrace was warm.
And real.