How Can I Get Rid of Him

xᴉs ʎʇuǝʍʇ ɐɹʇxǝ

Early morning, the sun rose from the east, and a ray of sunlight pierced through the mist, illuminating the room. Pei Hao struggled to open his eyes, paused for a few seconds, and gradually recalled some of the scenes from last night. His head still hurt. He sat up, rubbing his temples, and looked at the other half of the bed, which was empty, lost in thought.

Could yesterday have been another dream he had? Were all those words of affection he had spoken for a long time just a soliloquy that no one witnessed?

Pei Hao climbed down from the bed with his heavy head, walked to the window, and pulled the curtains open. A thin layer of mist hung over the city, and the air was damp.

"Bang!"

At that moment, a sound of something breaking came from outside. Pei Hao followed the sound.

Mo Xi was crouched in the kitchen, picking up broken glass. Hearing Pei Hao's footsteps, he looked up and shrugged apologetically. "Oops, I broke a bowl."

He had woken up early this morning, thinking he could make congee for Pei Hao to soothe his stomach. Unexpectedly, in his haste, he ended up sweeping the bowl off the table with his sleeve.

Pei Hao frowned, walking over to pull Mo Xi's hand away. "Don't touch the shards with your hands."

Especially the tiny fragments, which could easily cut his hand.

"It's fine," Mo Xi said in a hushed tone as he continued to pick up pieces. "There aren't any particularly small pieces."

In the time it took for him to speak, he picked up a larger piece, accidentally brushing his index finger against the sharpest edge, and it quickly cut through his skin, causing his finger to bleed.

Mo Xi: "..."

Seeing a tiny red streak on Mo Xi's fingertip, Pei Hao hurriedly grabbed the hand and put it in his mouth, gently sucking on it a few times. Mo Xi instinctively tried to pull his hand back, but Pei Hao held it firmly, preventing any movement.

A moist, warm sensation spread from the fingertips, a tingling warmth that spread like ants from the palm throughout his body.

Though there was no affection or desire in this action, Mo Xi's heart went through a tumultuous experience. He dared not even look at Pei Hao until he finally released his hand. If he were to meet Pei Hao's tender gaze again, he might willingly lose himself and be unable to extricate himself.

"Be more careful next time," Pei Hao's full attention was on the wound. He didn't notice the subtle shift in Mo Xi's emotions. "Why use your hands when you have a broom?"

"Yeah," Mo Xi withdrew his hand while Pei Hao was speaking. His cheeks were slightly flushed, and he turned his face away, avoiding Pei Hao's gaze. He lowered his head and said, "I've made congee. Have some."

"First, let's put this on," Pei Hao said, wrapping a band-aid around Mo Xi's finger with great care.