paranoia

The alarm clock rang, and Song Wanzhou rubbed his sleepy eyes and sat up from the bed. It was still gray outside the window, it was still early, it was only a quarter past five in the morning, and he could vaguely hear the soundtrack of the old man's morning exercise coming from downstairs.

After straightening out the open pajamas, the first button on the collar came off at some point, Song Wanzhou frowned slightly, pinched the button in the palm of his hand, and got up lightly to change his clothes.

Without turning on the light, Song Wanzhou pursed his lips lightly, pinched the time bomb under the pillow in his hand, rubbed the envelope seal repeatedly, and felt a slightly unfamiliar touch from his fingertips.He took it closer, and carefully examined the intact envelope. There was still a strong smell of perfume in his nostrils, and he felt something was wrong, but he couldn't tell.

Song Wanzhou lowered his eyes, looked at the pulp of his index finger that had faded red, and gently tapped the edge of the thin callus, thinking that it might be because of the callus left, his sense of touch was a little dull.

Because he hid the secret in his heart for no reason, he tossed and turned and couldn't sleep well last night. Every finger that touched the letter felt like being eaten by insects, and it was so itchy.

The door of Song Jing's room was still locked, and Song Wanzhou stood leaning against the wall at the door, lowering his head slightly, covering his bloodshot eyes, with tears forced out by yawning in the corners of his eyes.

The hands of the clock hanging on the wall pointed to six o'clock, and the sky slowly turned bright, and Song Wanzhou finally heard the sound of the doorknob turning.

Song Jing was naked to the waist, with a towel on his shoulders, half-closed his eyes, and caught a glimpse of Song Wanzhou standing at the door shaking slightly as if he was dozing off. Said: "It's so early, brother, is there something for me?"

Hearing the indifference in his words, Song Wanzhou, who was in a trance, stood up straight, took out the letter from behind his back, showed embarrassment, and whispered, "Xiaojing, this is for you."

Song Jing didn't answer, "A letter of apology written by brother?"

"No, it is..." Song Wanzhou said hesitantly. The word 'Cen Youfan' twirled on the tip of his tongue, and he couldn't get it out for a long time.

"If not, just throw it away." Song Jing yawned and walked past Song Wanzhou to the bathroom.

How could Song Wanzhou throw it away? Cen Youfan still asked him about Song Jing's reply on Monday.

"Xiaojing, Cen Youfan asked me to hand it over to you," Song Wanzhou swallowed, and chased after him, holding Song Jing's hand, "Let's take a look."

The voice became smaller and smaller, the moment the secret was uttered, the gnawing feeling in his heart disappeared, the whole person relaxed, and even his breathing became smoother.

"Cen Youfan?" Song Jing turned around, moved closer, turned his face sideways, and curled his lips, "Who is it?"

Song Jing's expression was natural, not like he was lying. Song Wanzhou frowned slightly, as if he was thinking about something, and asked tentatively, "Isn't it Xiaojing's ex-girlfriend?"

Song Jing rolled his eyes, raised the corners of his mouth slightly, and said with a smile, "Oh~"

"Forgot." Before Song Wanzhou could speak again, the smile on Song Jing's face became even wider, and a hint of slyness flashed in his eyes, "But, didn't you give it to my brother yesterday? I heard that she seems to have skipped a grade and went to the sophomore year of high school." Class Nine, didn't my brother meet her yesterday? She seems to be in the class next to yours."

"Why?" He asked aggressively, "Isn't that something my brother would do?"

Song Wanzhou was annoyed by Song Jingzhou's sense of oppression. He stepped back a little, his body stiffened, and he subconsciously clenched his fists, his voice trembling, "I forgot too..." He said without confidence, anyone would You can see the dodge in his eyes, the obvious nervousness and anxiety, and the hands hanging by his side are trembling.

He lied again.

The tips of the ears covered by the hair were unnaturally red and hot.

Apart from lying, his mind went blank and he didn't know how to reply.

Slowly raising his eyes to meet Song Jing's gaze, his throat tightened suddenly, unable to conceal the panic in his heart, he hurriedly looked away guiltily, and caught a glimpse of Song Jing's bare upper body, and a faint gleam appeared on his fair cheeks. red.

Fortunately, Song Jing didn't ask any more questions, but just took out the letter from his hand.

"Does brother want me to watch it?" Song Jing asked.

Song Wanzhou lowered his eyes, blinked his eyelashes lightly, and nodded.

"Then I'll take a look. I listen to my brother very much, so don't be nervous." Then he opened the two pages in front of him indifferently, and only glanced twice, "It's over." I tore it into shreds, and threw it into the trash bin with the exquisite wrapping paper indifferently, "Is there any more?"

"It's gone..." Song Wanzhou murmured.

"Does that brother want breakfast today?"

Song Jing shrugged, and easily asked the same questions as in the past, as if there had never been any episodes between the two of them, and he had never read the letter.

Song Wanzhou stared at the pieces of debris scattered on the ground, froze, and nodded slightly.

"Then brother sleeps later, I'll take a bath first."

Without looking back, Song Jing went straight into the bathroom.

Song Wanzhou squatted down and picked up the debris floating on the ground, some of which could still vaguely recognize the beautiful handwriting, the owner of the handwriting was torn into pieces, like tattered clothes, of no use value, Can be easily discarded.

Listening to the sound of water coming from the bathroom, Song Wanzhou, who was sitting on the sofa in the living room, lowered his eyes, and the light in his eyes dimmed.

He thought about all the reactions that Song Jing might have, whether he was angry or blamed, but he never thought that Song Jing would tear it up in front of him without nostalgia, let alone the slightest mood swings.

It turns out that Song Jing is such a person who does not miss old love, Song Wanzhou thought to himself.

The sound of the water stopped, he raised his head slightly, and saw Song Jing, who was wiping his hair, walking towards him, covered in a layer of water mist.

Unlike his femininity, Song Jing's facial features are relatively tough, under a pair of sword eyebrows is a pair of slender red phoenix eyes, deep eyes always contain inexplicable feelings, sometimes affectionate, sometimes indifferent, with a high bridge of nose And Ting, the thin lips on the bottom parted slightly, and raised a nice arc towards him.

"Did you go to sleep?" Song Jing leaned against the sofa, bent down and stared at Song Wanzhou's side face, and asked under his breath.

The eyelashes stained with moisture blinked slightly, and the eyes were full of calm and relaxation.

Song Wanzhou withdrew his gaze, hummed an "um" from his nasal cavity, took off the wet towel that Song Jing casually put on his shoulders, spread it out, and hung it to dry on the balcony.

Song Jing put on a sweater indiscriminately, his undried hair was still dripping, and took the key, "Then I'm going out to buy breakfast, do I still want the bean curd from Grandma Zhang's house?"

Usually Song Jing would go out while he was sleeping, today Song Wanzhou woke up early on purpose, although it was to give him the letter, but now the letter is gone, he didn't want Song Jing to toss back and forth, so he yelled to stop He said, "Let's eat at home. You can cook noodles if you haven't finished eating the dishes you brought from home."

Song Jing wasn't picky about the breakfast, so he said oh, put down his keys, followed Song Wanzhou into the kitchen, and even asked for help.

Song Wanzhou looked at Song Jing who asked him to help put on the apron, paused the hand tied with the bow, blinked, and asked hesitantly, "Where is Xiaojing's answer?"

"What answer?" Song Jing smiled, "Why does my brother always like to ask some nonsensical questions? You didn't ask me anything, so how could I give my brother an answer?"

"The letter just now," Song Wanzhou bit his lips lightly, "Where is Xiaojing's answer to Cen Youfan?"

Song Jing turned around and said in frustration, "Don't you know, brother?"

Song Wanzhou's heart beat a beat slower, turned his face away, and whispered, "I don't know."

"I have someone I like, and I will never look at her more." Song Jing's voice was cold, and his tone was obviously unhappy, "Brother, just tell her like this."

Song Jing's cold reply directly blocked Song Wanzhou's next question in his throat.

He wanted to ask, Xiaojing, do you like Jiang Xinzhi, that's why you broke up with Cen Youfan.

Today's breakfast was all prepared by Song Jing, and Song Wanzhou stood beside him, telling him what to do next.

"Is it delicious?" As soon as the noodles were served on the table, Song Jing couldn't wait to ask.

Song Wanzhou blew on the hot air, took a sip, and nodded before swallowing it, "It's delicious." It's just a little salty.

Song Jing only cooked a bowl for Song Wanzhou, and he finished the task by mixing the remaining toast with milk.

Song Wanzhou eats politely, holding the bowl in his left hand and the chopsticks in his right, eating only a little with each bite.

Song Jing, who was sitting next to him, turned his face sideways and said with a smile, "Brother, your nails are so long."

Song Wanzhou followed his line of sight to look over, and sure enough, the milky white that grew out was about 1cm long, no wonder there were marks on the palm.

Song Jing naturally took Song Wanzhou's slender left hand, stroked his fingertips back and forth along the outline of his nails, and hooked the corner of his mouth, "It's really long."

Feeling the warmth of Song Jing's hand, Song Wanzhou subconsciously wanted to withdraw his hand, "I'll cut it later."

"Let me cut it for my brother, okay?" Song Jing raised his eyelids, showing expectant eyes, and the corner of his mouth smiled even more, muttering.

Song Wanzhou felt that his younger brother was a bit like a fox, and would eat him to death.

Song Jing, who got the answer, smiled and found nail clippers from the drawer, and asked Song Wanzhou to continue eating breakfast. He lay on one knee, lightly held Song Wanzhou's hand, looked at each slender finger reverently, and bowed down. Head, covering the incomparably obsessed Ai Lian in his eyes, "Brother's hands are so pretty."

Both Song Jing's actions and what he said made Song Wanzhou feel embarrassed, his eyelashes trembled slightly, he swallowed, and the rapid heartbeat in his chest made people panic, but Song Jing grabbed him tightly when he wanted to pull it out.

"Brother, will writing make your index finger callous?" Song Jing raised his head and asked suspiciously.

Thinking of the sleeping pill incident last time, Song Wanzhou panicked for no reason, his lips trembled slightly, and he began to lie again: "The posture is wrong."

Sensing Song Wanzhou's nervousness, Song Jing slightly raised his eyelids, raised his lips, and said with a smirk, "Brother, don't move around, it will be bad if I accidentally cut the meat."

Song Wanzhou really didn't move, his body was so stiff that he couldn't even hold his chopsticks steadily.

Obviously it was just a simple nail clipping, but when it was over, his back was wet with sweat, the breeze blew by, his nose itched, and he sneezed.

After dinner, the two came to the hospital with their homework.

Song Jing didn't know why his spirit was always high, and pestered Song Wanzhou to ask him how to make his hands calloused. He wanted it too, and let Guan Zhiwen see that he was also serious about his studies.

Song Wanzhou couldn't answer directly, so he could only let him study hard.

"Brother Wanzhou?" A crisp voice sounded from behind the two of them.