"I hate the way you look at me, just as I hate the nightmare that never ends when I was fourteen."
Song Qichao's world was completely torn apart one afternoon when he was fourteen years old - he opened the door and saw his father having sex with a strange man. His mother's scream became the soundtrack to his insomnia for the next ten years. From then on, same-sex love was equated with betrayal, deception, and brokenness in his eyes. It turned into a physiological nausea that was deeply rooted in his bones.
Qin Bainian is his antonym. Live openly, brightly, and confidently, and use three times your tutoring fee to buy the opportunity to be close to him. This dandy young man didn't care about the whole world, but when he looked at Song Qi Chao, his eyes were so hot that they seemed to leave a mark.
"Teacher Song, the more you run away, the more I want you."
"Your past is your prison, not my sin."
Song Qi Chao was retreating steadily amid the pull of disgust and attraction. Every deliberate touch by Qin Bainian made him feel sick and trembled, and his heart beat out of control; every outspoken word of love was like sprinkling salt on a festering wound, the pain was vivid and strangely addictive.
Their birthdays are only one day apart, but they are the closest and farthest distance between love and hate.
"I can wait, wait for you to accept me, or - wait for you to destroy me."
Qin Bainian smiled when he said this, but his eyes were filled with despair that Song Qichao couldn't understand. He didn't know that some wounds never scabbed over, but only fester and fester inside, until they swallowed up all the light.
When Qin Bainian finally understood that his passionate love was just a hand that kept tearing apart the other person's old wounds, he chose the most complete distance.
He thought leaving would be the antidote.
Little did he know that the barb named "Qin Bainian" had already grown into Song Qi Chao's flesh and blood and became a part of the world he hated. Forcibly removing it will only cause the wound to fester into an abyss.
A closeness that begins with disgust and a distance that ends in despair.
Some love has barbs growing from the beginning - it will hurt if you get close, and you will die if you stay away, and we have no choice.
Food guide:
Two-way destruction under the appearance of redemption
Delicate psychological portrayal, sugar on the edge of the knife
When trauma takes the shape of love
The ultimate rendition of "I Hate I Love You"
The aesthetics of BE, please be careful if you are sensitive.
"He is not my light, he is the match that makes me see how dark I am." ——Song Qichao's last unsent text message
Concept: Some wounds cannot be healed by love, but they can be defined by love - when trauma becomes the only prism through which a person perceives the world, even the purest emotions will be refracted into the shape of injury.