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墨書 Inktalez
After the meeting ended, Gaoyuan returned to my side. Since the last incident, it seemed like there was a barrier between us. I always found myself intentionally or unintentionally avoiding him. I didn't dare to talk to him or even look at him. I was afraid he might hate me.
"You are avoiding me," Gaoyuan said, looking at me.
"I..." I looked at him, wanting to explain but not knowing how to do so.
"Why are you avoiding me?" Gaoyuan asked.
"I... I don't know how to say it," I replied.
"If you don't know how to say it, then don't say anything," Gaoyuan said. "Just remember, I'm not angry."
"Oh," I responded softly.
"And..." Gaoyuan looked at me, hesitating to continue.
"What?" I asked.
"Nothing," Gaoyuan shook his head. He glanced at me and then turned away.
I felt a bit disappointed. Why didn't he finish what he wanted to say?
...
Throughout the afternoon, Gaoyuan hardly spoke. It wasn't until after school that I noticed something was off with him. He was resting his head on the desk and looked very tired.
I asked him, "Are you feeling unwell?"
He shook his head, "I'm fine."
"Are you really okay?" I asked, feeling a bit worried.
"Mm," he replied softly.
I looked at him, still feeling concerned. I stepped closer and patted his shoulder, "If you're not feeling well, you must tell me."
He nodded slightly.
After school, I walked out of the classroom with my backpack.
As soon as I walked down the stairs, I saw Gaoyuan standing downstairs.
He was completely soaked, as if he had just been pulled out of the water.
I hurried over and asked, "What happened to you?"
He looked at me but didn't say anything.
That's when I noticed his face was very red, as if he had a high fever.
"Do you have a fever?" I asked.
He still didn't respond.
I reached out and touched his forehead.
So hot!
"You have a fever!" I exclaimed. "Wait here, I'll go buy some medicine."
"No need..." he finally spoke up.
His voice was very hoarse.
"You’re burning up like this; you have to take medicine," I insisted.
"I have medicine in my dorm," he said.
"Then I'll take you to your dorm," I offered.
He didn't say anything, which I took as agreement.
I supported him as we walked to the dormitory.
When we reached the door, I told him to take off his wet clothes first.
He glanced at me and then began to undress.
His clothes were all soaked, clinging tightly to his body.
It took a lot of effort for me to help him get them off.
His body was covered in many scars—some new, some old.
A sharp pain shot through my heart.
What had he gone through?
Why did he have so many scars?
"What are you looking at?" he suddenly asked.
"I..." I came back to my senses, my cheeks burning, "I didn't see anything."
I quickly grabbed a dry towel and covered him with it.
"Your wound isn't healed yet; you shouldn't get it wet," I said.
"Mm," he replied softly.
I took the first aid kit and helped him disinfect his wound.
His wound hadn't been treated for a long time and had become infected and pus-filled.
"Why haven't you taken care of your wound?" I asked, a bit angry.
He looked at me and said nothing.
I grew more frustrated: "If you keep this up, your wound will rot!"
He smiled slightly: "Are you worried about me?"
"Of course I'm worried about you," I said, "You're my friend."
He looked at me, the amusement in his eyes deepening.
I felt a bit uncomfortable under his gaze: "What are you laughing at?"
"Nothing," he said.
I shot him a glare and continued to tend to his wound.
He watched me and asked, "Will you always worry about me?"
"Of course I will," I replied, "We're friends."
He fell silent for a moment and then said, "Just friends?"
"What else could we be?" I looked at him.
He stared back at me without saying anything.
I had no idea what he was thinking.
I couldn't be bothered to guess.
After finishing with his wound, I said, "You should rest well; I'm going back now."
"Mm," he replied softly.
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