I may have fallen in love with my deskmate.
In the summer of his sophomore year in high school, when Shen Chi first realized this, he was lying on his bed, with a piece of charcoal pencil picked up, a piece of homework paper with a basketball drawn on it, and two melted White Rabbit toffees placed beside his pillow. He thought for a long time and couldn't figure out why Shen Chi, the captain of the school basketball team and the most popular boy in the town, would feel his heart beat like this in front of a boy who had transferred from school and refused to say a word.
Chen Yu knew the answer earlier than Shen Chi. He knew it from the first day he sat next to the empty seat, from the time Shen Chi pushed the bun to the corner of his desk, from the time he folded the candy wrapper and put it in the front of the album. He just couldn't believe it. His father's early death, his mother's remarriage, his childhood living under someone else's roof - all things taught him the same truth: you have to take back the good things others give you. So he learned not to give anyone a chance to take it back. Shen Chi brought him breakfast, but he refused to eat; Shen Chi drove him on a bicycle, but he held on to the frame without touching his waist; Shen Chi leaned into his ear under the fireworks, and he just waited for the other person to swallow his words.
One cannot understand his own heart, and the other dare not recognize the other person's heart. Two high school sophomore boys spent eight years slowly grinding away in the most stupid way, on the playground, in the studio, in the steam of the restaurant, and on the phone in the early morning. From being at the same table to being in a different place, from coming out to reality, from seventeen to twenty-five.
The locust flowers bloomed and faded, the sketchbooks were replaced one after another, "Xiaoyu Spare Ribs" was added to the restaurant menu, and the old wooden benches in the yard of their hometown were moved from their grandfather's house to their own home. It took them a long, long time to figure it out - that feeling of "wanting to sit next to you all the time", they were not brothers from the beginning.
It took us eight years from being at the same table to the rest of our lives. But there is a long way to go, so there is no rush.
Intention: The real straight-bending is never about "bending you", but "I finally dare to admit that I have always wanted to hold your hand."