desensitization therapy

Halfway through the performance, Song Feijue's phone screen lit up for a message from Wen Peitang, and then went dark again after a while.

"Is it Auntie?" Yu Qiu, who was sitting on his right side, also saw it, and asked softly.

Song Feijue didn't answer, but apologized to Yu Qiu in a low voice. Yu Qiu shook his head, mouthed that it didn't matter, and moved away empathetically, letting him leave through the empty passage on the right.

Wen Peitang was probably afraid of disturbing him, so he didn't send a voice message, but sent a text message, tactfully asking how he and Yu Qiu got along, and whether they would like to come back for dinner together in the evening.

The signal outside the theater was not good, and Song Feijue's reply message was spinning around, but it was too late to send it out.He walked out in the direction indicated by the sign until he reached the entrance of the rooftop, and the stagnant circle next to the message finally disappeared.

Song Feijue didn't return to the theater, he pushed open the door of the roof and walked straight forward.

The sky is about to be dark, the sun in the west sinks in the corner of the eaves, and a ray of light twines and falls from the horizon, like a splash of magma burning through the chest, leaving no embers.

Song Feijue was leaning on the rusty railing, he casually put the phone into the pocket of his coat, and when he went inside, he found something sticky.

Lighter and cigarette case.

That pack of cigarettes was not the brand he usually smoked, and Song Feijue couldn't remember when he put it away. He held the dark blue pack of cigarettes in his hand and looked at it carefully.

There was a heavy and sharp friction sound when the iron door was pushed open behind him.

Song Feijue turned his head, Fang Zhilian's hand was still on the handle of the door, he bent his eyes, smiled at Song Feijue and said, "What a coincidence."

On the roof of the rooftop in the twilight, they looked at each other from a distance that was not too far away.

got windy.

The wind blew up Fang Zhilian's hair, he didn't move forward, let alone backward, standing thinly on the spot alone.

Behind the still iron gate, there seems to be another world of light and shadow, and only the one in front of you is the only light.

Song Feijue's fingertips brushed against the flat corners of the cigarette case, and he replied the sentence intact: "What a coincidence."

Fang Zhilian let go of the handle, and the heavy iron door closed slowly behind him.

He turned around and walked towards Song Feijue step by step: "When did you start smoking?"

"The first two years." Song Feijue said casually.

Fang Zhilian stopped, not knowing what he was thinking, and was silent for a while before moving forward: "When you just got out of prison?"

"Ah."

Song Feijue answered bluntly. He turned around before Fang Zhilian walked over slowly, facing the orange-red afterglow, and lowered his head to light a cigarette.

The ignited sparks are also orange, as if they want to blend in with the sky.

Fang Zhilian had already walked to the position next to Song Feijue. He stared at the lit cigarette and asked softly, "Can you give me one?"

"You know how to smoke?" Song Feijue turned his face away, his eyes were beautiful, and when he focused on them quietly, they were indifferent and sharp, like a lizard-like cold-blooded animal, covered with a layer of unpredictable skin .

Fang Zhilian didn't wear a coat, but only a thin white sweater, which would blow through as soon as the wind blew.He moved his stiff fingers, but did not answer directly.

"I want to smoke." He said out of question.

Song Feijue remained silent, and shook out a slender cigarette from the cigarette case and handed it to him. Fang Zhilian touched Song Feijue's finger when he took it, and it was very cold.

A spot of light from the setting sun fell on Fang Zhilian's eyelashes, and every time he blinked, it was like phosphorous powder falling from the wings of a butterfly.

"I don't have a lighter." Fang Zhilian twisted the cigarette and bit it in his mouth, saying vaguely.He knew that he should be very embarrassed now, since he chased to the rooftop out of control, or earlier, from a single thought eight years ago, he had already become a loser.

Song Feijue stopped talking, he exhaled a wisp of smoke, and looked condescendingly at the person in front of him inch by inch.

Just when Fang Zhilian thought that Song Feijue would not make any more moves, Song Feijue suddenly bent down.

He grabbed Fang Zhilian's chin, forcing Fang Zhilian to raise his head, and pointed the half of the cigarette at the unburned cigarette butt.

The distance was too close, and the hair on Song Feijue's forehead brushed against his eyes, making it itchy. Fang Zhilian closed his eyes subconsciously, his eyelashes trembling slightly.

The tops of the cigarettes were connected, and Song Feijue's cold voice came into Fang Zhilian's ears: "Suck."

Fang Zhilian took a puff belatedly, sporadic flames ignited, but the cold mint smell became far away. He opened his eyes and looked at Song Feijue's obscure side face in the dusk.

A fire burst out of nowhere in his throat, as if trying to burn a hole out of his soul.

But Song Feijue never looked at him, the pain in his chin seemed to be just Fang Zhilian's hallucination.

Fang Zhilian took a deep breath, and could only smell the faint smell of tobacco, mixed with the smell of burning nicotine.

I don’t know if it’s a gift for a first-time smoker to not choke or cough. Fang Zhilian thought, probably not. The smoke didn’t pass through his lungs at all. Son, spit it out again, so stupid.

Song Feijue wiped out the cigarette butt, raised his hand, threw it into the trash can, and walked out the door.

"Aren't you smoking?" Fang Zhilian was taken aback.

Song Feijue said calmly, "Smoking is prohibited here."

Fang Zhilian's eyes widened, and he frantically imitated Song Feijue to snuff out the cigarette butt with his hands, but was scalded by the burning sparks, and his hands were covered with ash.

Song Feijue paused when he heard the voice, but he opened the door and left without looking back.

The pain made people sober, Fang Zhilian looked up and saw a few large characters written on the wall directly opposite: It is strictly forbidden to throw cigarette butts.

It doesn't say no smoking at all.

Fang Zhilian stared at the extinguished cigarette, and after a few seconds, he slowly closed his palms, holding the remaining half of the cigarette tightly in his palm, and raised his foot to chase after it.

Song Feijue didn't seem surprised at all that Fang Zhilian would chase after him. When he saw Fang Zhilian behind him in the mirror, it was no different from seeing an unrelated passerby, A, B, C, Ding.

"Do you like girls?" Fang Zhilian asked suddenly as he stood behind him.

The sound of water flowing was regular and rapid, and Song Feijue took out a piece of paper without giving him half a look.

"Do you like girls?"

Fang Zhilian repeated the question just now, the bangs on his forehead were messed up by the wind, like a puppy with knotted hair, downcast, and sad.

"I like it," Song Feijue finally dried his hands, and he crumpled the paper into a ball. He turned his head to meet Shang Zhilian's gaze, and asked lightly, "Is it over?"

It's not over, it's impossible to finish, Fang Zhilian's lips were biting red: "Is the person sitting next to you just now your girlfriend?"

Song Feijue bent his lips, but there was no smile in his eyes.

The meaning is self-evident, no matter what the answer is, it has nothing to do with Fang Zhilian.

Fang Zhilian didn't know from what standpoint he asked this sentence, ex-boyfriend?Or an old classmate?He knew clearly in his heart that no matter what position he stood on, he was not qualified to ask.

But he had a premonition somewhere, maybe if he let go this time, there would be no next time.

"You don't like girls," Fang Zhilian said slowly, pulling the rosary on his wrist, "you don't like me anymore, I know."

Song Feijue raised his eyes indifferently, and he repeated the phrase "know", but he couldn't tell whether it was a statement or a rhetorical question.

Fang Zhilian couldn't read it.

"I know, I know everything. You blame me so much, but I miss you every day..." Fang Zhilian's words were inconsequential, he lowered his head, more and more confident, "Don't hurt other girls, You hurt me... okay?"

Love is possession, it is jealousy, it is desire, it is pain.

This was the first time Fang Zhilian said that he wanted to chase Song Feijue, but at that time Fang Zhilian was still a confident little boy who could say "everything is good, not as good as me".But now he has lost half of his confidence, and when he said this in a disgruntled manner, all he has left is a determination that is both timid and brave.

He heard Song Feijue sigh heavily.

"Fang Zhilian," Song Feijue paused every word, and his words were like a blunt knife, slowly lingering at Fang Zhilian, "Who harmed whom?"

Fang Zhilian's breathing was stagnant, he wanted to speak, but he couldn't speak for a long time, so he could only drag the rosary on his wrist desperately.

The fragile red thread was finally torn off.

The beads were scattered all over the ground, and a few bounced to the corner of the wall, making a crisp sound.

Song Feijue's gaze also turned to the red thread hanging in his hand.

What Fang Zhilian had been covering and hiding all this time was completely seen. He subconsciously took a step back, his mind buzzing.

He saw Song Feijue pause for a moment, then lowered his head expressionlessly, as if he was about to bend down to pick up the scattered beads.

Perhaps it was because someone stepped on the snow on the shoe and brought it in and melted it. The ground was not cleaned up in time, and there were a few puddles of water, with black shoe prints on it.

The few beads just lay quietly in the stain.

Fang Zhilian's heart suffocated suddenly, it was almost a conditioned reflex, he grabbed Song Feijue's sleeve, and said in a pleading tone: "Don't pick it up, don't want it..."

Song Feijue's movements stopped, he straightened up, and met Fang Zhilian's eyes, there was anxiety, pain in those eyes, and maybe there were many things he couldn't understand.

Fang Zhilian stared at him blankly, after a while, he seemed to come back to his senses, turned around and stumbled out.

After a long time, no one came in again.

Song Feijue squatted down slowly, and picked up the beads that fell on the ground one by one, together with the few that bounced to the corner.

There were muddy stains on the fingertips and palms, but Song Feijue seemed to ignore them.He spread out the beads in his hand and rinsed them under clean water over and over again, with a detached and focused expression.

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