He is her moon, beautiful, constant, and out of reach, soothing everyone who walks at night equally with his clear brilliance.
Her love for him is like an aesthetic pilgrimage. And he may stay with her for a moment with a brighter light, but that is not exclusive, it is just an unintentional inclination among his countless tendernesses.
In her eyes, I am the kind of student who is like a "moon": good grades, stable temper, trusted by teachers, polite and considerate to everyone.
Qinghui is equal? Those are just the most basic survival rules for a boy in a key middle school who doesn't want to get into trouble.
I am not the moon. I just found a set of safe and efficient "behavior templates" in a repressive and highly competitive environment. I help my classmates give lectures because organizing my thoughts can make me clearer; I keep quiet and talk less because most social interactions make me feel exhausted.
I habitually hide my true self. I actually don't like reading, and I'm not quiet either. I like a noisy atmosphere. I actually like playing basketball and don't like doing exercises alone. Until I noticed her.
She is different. During boring evening self-study sessions, she would suddenly whisper "Wow" to the birds flying by the window; there were always weird but vivid metaphors in her compositions; it was obviously very painful for her to run 800 meters, but she would grin to herself when she crossed the finish line.
There is a furry vitality about her that has not been completely tamed by the rules.
That is real light.
So, when she came to ask me a math question, her fingertips pointed at the formula that was actually not difficult——
My world would suddenly be quiet. All the noise in the classroom, the flipping of test papers, and the buzzing of fans, faded into distant background sounds.
My voice will be softer and slower than usual, not out of "moon tenderness" but out of an almost pious intensity. I was afraid that if I spoke too quickly, she would leave.
I remember all the little random things about her: she would go to the studio on Wednesday afternoons, always had bread for breakfast on Mondays, hated carrots, loved green apple-flavored candies.
So, the "accidental" meeting in the corridor, the "happened" extra apple-flavored candy I brought, and the "happened" sitting opposite her in the library - these coincidences that she might have ignored were carefully calculated minor subjects outside of my entire course schedule.
…
He looked at her, his voice hoarse,
"... I'm sorry. I'm not the moon."
"I'm just a... Afraid that you can see me clearly, and even more afraid that you will never be able to see me clearly, a coward."
Double c
A story about infp&enfj
(infp is the female protagonist ♡ enfj is the male protagonist)
Lin Shao vs Wen Liang
Purpose: Secret Love Diary