MTL - Paper Plane-Chapter 97

Tang Junhe stared at the one-inch photo in his hand, and all kinds of bizarre memories flooded his mind for a while, the fear of Yang Xuan's departure ten years ago, the unscrupulous summer in Sri Lanka, the pouring rain when Yang Chengchuan died, and their parting That kiss that was cool in the dark...

For a moment, these memories rushed towards him like a tsunami, almost engulfing him, leaving him no time to think about what was behind this old one-inch photo.

The door of the room that was not closed was pushed open at this moment, and Tang Junhe knew that it was Yang Xuan who had returned without looking up. His eyes moved away from the one-inch photo, and looked at Yang Xuan, who was also looking at him secretly.

Tang Junhe tried his best to calm down the turbulent emotions in his body, held the photo in the palm of his hand, and explained with downcast eyes: "Your box was knocked down by Thirteen, and the things fell on the ground. I just tidied them up."

Yang Xuan closed the door, was silent for a moment and asked, "Just unpacking the boxes?" Then he walked towards him, looked at him, and reached out to hold his hand holding the photo, "That should be returned to its original place, why did you take it away?" my things?"

Tang Junhe turned his face away and said in a low voice: "The things you took from me ten years ago should be returned to me now."

Yang Xuan didn't let go, still holding his wrist, the strength was not heavy, but with an unbreakable strength: "What if I don't want to pay it back?"

Tang Junhe had a splitting headache and shook his head weakly: "I'm very tired." In fact, my chest was tight and I wanted to ask a lot, such as why didn't I say it earlier, why did I keep this photo from ten years ago until now, What is the relationship between us. But he was really tired.

Tang Xiaonian's death almost broke his mind, and the sudden high fever made his brain confused again. Coupled with the turbulent memories caused by the photo just now, he didn't want to say anything or think about anything for a while. ask.

Yang Xuan lowered his head and stared at him. After a while, he loosened the hand holding Tang Junhe slightly, moved it down, wrapped Tang Junhe's hand holding the photo, and then raised the other arm , took him into her arms, put her palms behind his head, and sighed softly.

Tang Junhe's forehead touched Yang Xuan's shoulder, no one spoke, and hugged silently and quietly.

The evening sun shone into the room, stretching their overlapping shadows very long, the light in the room became darker and darker, until the last ray of skylight was taken away, and when only darkness remained, Tang Junhe clenched his hands tightly. He let go of his hand, and returned the photo to Yang Xuan, then he stood up straight, left Yang Xuan's embrace, and said in a hoarse voice, "I want to sleep."

"Go to sleep." Yang Xuan rubbed his hair and let go of the arm holding him.

Tang Junhe went to the bathroom to take a shower. When the hot water poured down from the top of his head, he closed his eyes, and a thought flashed through his mind: Where will Yang Xuan sleep tonight?

His bed is a double bed, wide enough for two people to sleep. It is true that it is natural for two brothers to sleep on the same bed. In the name of brothers, it is not too much for them to do many things, but they not only Only brothers.

When Tang Junhe came out of the bathroom, Yang Xuan was sitting on the sofa with his head back leaning against the back of the sofa. Seeing him coming out, he turned to look at him.

Tang Junhe, who had taken a bath, was wearing a loose white T-shirt. His fair skin was a little flushed by the hot water. He looked like a college student in his early twenties, and he was completely different from Dr. Tang in a white coat. When he was young, he was astonishingly beautiful, perhaps because he was used to staying in his own world. The ten years hadn't given him the slightest trace of a market atmosphere. He looked clean and pure, with a sense of alienation that could not be ignored .

Tang Junhe was a little dizzy from the burn. He walked to the medicine box, turned his back to Yang Xuan and took out the antipyretic medicine. He didn't even bother to take the water, so he swallowed it dryly. Then he walked to the bed and got into the bed to sleep. There was a space for one person beside him, he closed his eyes and said, "There is a quilt in the closet, you can take it yourself later."

Yang Xuan replied "Yes", and Tang Junhe didn't say anything else. He felt that Yang Xuan's eyes fell on him. His eyes always seemed to be heavy, which could not be ignored, but maybe it was because of exhaustion and the sleeping effect of antipyretics. This time he didn't suffer from insomnia anymore. Fell asleep.

Not long after Tang Junhe fell asleep, Yang Xuan also stood up and walked to the bed, looking down at him. He actually brought a camp bed with him, it's downstairs in the trunk of the car, but he's debating whether to bring it up.

He didn't want to take advantage of others, it was like that when Tang Junhe was drunk, and it was the same this time. The high-fever love affair ten years ago was out of rhythm because of youthful impulsiveness. Ten years after they both grew up, Yang Xuan hoped that this time, they could start from holding hands and then kiss like ordinary couples. , and finally go to bed.

He intends to control the rhythm of this love affair, but unexpectedly, he can control the process of many tasks with ease and foresee all kinds of dangerous possibilities. This kind of thing disrupts the pace, so that I am a little passive.

Tang Junhe, who was huddled under the blanket, slept soundly. The hair that had just been washed was not completely dry, and it was stuck to his forehead in a mess. Yang Xuan sat down on the side of the vacant bed and stretched out his hand to help him brush his hair on his forehead. , but as soon as the back of his hand was placed on his forehead, he immediately realized that Tang Junhe had a fever.

Yang Xuan turned over his hand and tried the temperature of his forehead seriously, his palm was hot, he frowned, tried to wake up Tang Junhe, and said in a low voice: "You have a fever, let's go to the hospital."

Tang Junhe's eyelashes trembled, but there was no reaction. He slept so soundly that he didn't want to wake up yet. Then he heard Yang Xuan say in his ear, Jun He, wake up, this is the first time Yang Xuan called him that in his impression, his voice was low and gentle, almost made him think he was still dreaming.

Seeing that he couldn't wake him up, Yang Xuan helped him to sit up without any explanation, Tang Junhe opened his eyes with some difficulty, and saw Yang Xuan took off his coat and was wrapping it around him.

Tang Junhe was clearly delirious with a fever, but he stubbornly insisted that he was fine: "I took antipyretics, and I'll be fine after a night of sleep."

"Go to the hospital, be obedient." Yang Xuan picked him up by the waist and put him beside the bed.

"I am a doctor myself." Tang Junhe muttered softly.

Yang Xuan squatted in front of him, picked him up, opened the door and walked out. Tang Junhe was lying on his back. At first, his arms were loosely wrapped around Yang Xuan's neck, but then he hugged him tighter and tighter. His cheeks with a high fever pressed against the back of his neck. Yang Xuan's body temperature was always a little cold. , making him feel comfortable.

In a trance, he thought he was seventeen years old again, on the mountain with the Marriage Temple, on the dark mountain road, his brother Yang Xuan was carrying him down the mountain, wearing the blood-stained white shirt. The mountain road was uneven and bumpy, which made him dizzy.

Yang Xuan carried Tang Junhe back to the car, opened the rear door with one hand, put him in the back seat, and leaned over to help him fasten his seat belt. When he exited, he was about to straighten his upper body to close the door , Tang Junhe suddenly cried.

Compared with the day when Tang Xiaonian left, this time he cried very restrainedly, covering his face with both hands, tears streaming down the cracks between his fingers, sobbing softly.

Yang Xuan stopped his movements, supported the back seat of the front row with one hand, put the other hand on his head and rubbed it a few times, feeling a little at a loss—comforting a crying sad person is not within the scope of his expertise Inside. Yang Xuan held Tang Junhe's wrist, took away his hand covering his face, and wiped away his tears with his coat. Tang Junhe had a high fever, his eyes were wet and dark after crying, exactly the same as ten years ago, he just looked at him like that and said, "Don't go, okay?"

"Okay," Yang Xuan looked at him and said seriously, "I'm not leaving."

The author has something to say

There is no abuse in the future, but there are still historical problems to be solved