Aside from the head injury, Lin Zeyu was physically fine and discharged the next day. When my mom heard that he only remembered me, she decided I should take care of him. She even called Lin Zeyu’s parents, who begged me to help.
I wanted to refuse, but Aunt Lin and Uncle Lin had always treated me like family. Every holiday, they sent gifts, and when I was little, they’d joke about wishing I were a girl so I could marry their son.
I couldn't say no to my mom, but not to them. So after hanging up, I found myself staring at Lin Zeyu, who sat on my couch, looking at me expectantly.
I sighed. “You can stay here until your memory comes back.”
His eyes lit up. “Thank you, Yiran!”
“Yiran…?” I was taken aback. Even my mom didn’t call me by a nickname.
He looked puzzled. “Isn’t that what couples do?”
I quickly shook my head. “No, just call me by my name.”
He immediately looked crestfallen, like a puppy abandoned in the rain. “But… you said you’re my boyfriend. Were you lying?”
His tone was so sweet and pitiful that I caved. “Fine, call me whatever you want.”
He hugged me tightly, burying his face in my shoulder. “I knew you weren’t lying!”
I pushed him away, my ears burning. “Alright, go get some rest!”
Without his memories, Lin Zeyu was no longer sharp-tongued, but instead, clingy and affectionate. He wanted to be around me all the time, insisting that’s what couples did.
He kept asking, “Why don’t we have any photos together?”
One lie led to another. “We just started dating, so we haven’t taken any yet,” I said.
He believed me and immediately dragged me over for a selfie while I was cooking. I stumbled into his chest, and he bent down, pressing his lips to mine for the photo.
Click. He pulled away, grinning, and set the photo as his phone wallpaper. My face turned bright red.
Did I just lose my first kiss like that?
I tried to calm myself. “It’s just a kiss between guys. No big deal, right?”
That night, I made him fried rice and dumped in way too much salt. When I set the bowl in front of him, he took a bite and his face twisted in horror.
“How is it? You used to love my fried rice,” I teased.
He hesitated, then forced a smile. “It’s delicious, Yiran. I’m just so touched you cooked for me.”
He ate the whole bowl, washing it down with two huge glasses of water. I almost felt guilty for going too far—almost.
Chapter 02
*
Comments
Post a Comment