In the afternoon, the sun is just right.
Yu Yan nestled in the wicker chair on the balcony and typed on the keyboard. Lying on her lap is a cat that sleeps until its belly turns over. The sound of the keyboard is intermittent, just like her usual rhythm when writing manuscripts - she can't stop when inspiration comes, and stares at the screen in a daze when inspiration goes away.
Eya sat next to her and drew quietly.
Two people and a cat, each doing their own thing. There is no dialogue and no need for dialogue. Sunlight poured in from the window, illuminating Yu Yan's fingers and giving a gentle outline to Jiang Zhou's profile. The clouds moved slowly in the sky, and time passed slowly between them.
I don't know how long it took, but Yu Yan got tired of writing. He stretched out and leaned over to look at Jiang Zhou's drawing board.
It's her in the painting.
"When did you draw it?"
"When you start to drift off."
Yu Yan was stunned for a moment, then smiled.
A medical student and a writer; one is accustomed to recording with lines, and the other is accustomed to expressing with words. They express themselves in different ways, but their eyes always fall in the same direction when they look at each other.
In Jiang Zhou's eyes, Yu Yan is a scenery worth describing repeatedly. In Yu Yan's writing, Jiang Zhou is the only character who doesn't want to be fictional.
There are no ups and downs of the plot, just two girls under the same roof, tenderly accompanying each other through every ordinary day. The thoughts hidden in the paintbrush, between the keyboards, and in silence are more moving than any love words.
Medical student x writer, two female protagonists, 20 years old, warm daily life, steady flow, HE.
Intention: Love is watering each other