Mo Cheng’s café was pretty busy—it was a Saturday, after all, and a very famous band was performing nearby this week. So when Sun Fang walked through the door, most of the chairs on the bottom floor were occupied, Mo Cheng in the middle of taking somebody’s order from behind the counter. And for the first time in all the times he’d visited, he saw a waiter he didn’t recognize flitting between the tables, picking up dishes as they went.
He was struck by indecisiveness for a moment, unsure if he should continue in. Maybe there weren’t place for them even upstairs? His eyes glanced around, and then he straightened his back, squared his shoulders, and elegantly pulled off his sunglasses.
Walking across the bottom floor, he nodded to Mo Cheng as he passed (Mo Cheng giving him a distracted smile), and bustled up the next floor. Ivy walked behind him, carrying the lone bag from the store they’d gotten sides-tracked in. Sun Fang hadn’t meant to; today was supposed to be one last visit to Mo Cheng’s café before they left for their new home. But—well, they’d walked passed the shop that sold his favorite bath salts, and bubbles, and soaps and then… they couldn’t not pick up a bag, could they?
No, of course not.
That would be an utter travesty.
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
Shivering at the mere thought, Sun Fang stopped for a second at the top of the stairs. He glanced around, eyes wide. But while it was busy up here, too, he could find some stray tables not occupied, and he breathed out silently.
”This way,” he motioned to Ivy, quickly stalking between the tables. He would reach the prime table that he’d decided on, and would absolutely not allow someone else to grab it first.
Throwing his head back dramatically, he collapsed onto the chair just as someone else was about to approach. They stalled when they saw him sitting, and in the true spirit of his mother, he looked the stranger right in the eyes and smirked. The stranger scowled, glanced at Ivy putting the bag not he seat across him, and wisely turned away.
Sun Fang barked out a laugh. He waved at Ivy, and asked, ”You alright on your own?” while still snickering.
”It will be no problem,” Ivy said mild-mannerly. It patted the bag to make sure it’d stay put, and left for the first floor. Sun Fang was left on his own, feet kicking against the table’s leg while he wiled away the time on his phone.
He had a new game on it; a simple racing game. There was nothing complicated or special about it, but damn if it wasn’t fun to run over other cars.
Time passed surprisingly quickly, and Ivy soon returned carrying a tray. Sun Fang looked up when a shadow fell over him, and was faced with Ivy’s deadpanned expression. It was the default expression, but it didn’t make it any less effective. Sun Fang sheepishly rubbed the tip of his nose, moving his legs out of the way so that Ivy could reach the other chair. There had been a third one, but at some point while Sun Fang hadn’t been paying attention, it had been stolen.
Ivy sat down, putting the tray on the table at the same time. Sun Fang spirited away his phone, pulling it out of Ivy’s judgmental line of sight.
On the tray was all of Sun Fang’s favorites. Three pieces of different cakes and two different coffees—he couldn’t help himself. He laughed and said, ”My stomach is going to hurt so much tonight, you know,” as he scooted closer. He picked up a small fork, stabbing the carrot cake with it, and plopped a large piece in his mouth.
”I know,” said Ivy, apparently unconcerned about this. Sun Fang huffed a little, getting another piece on his fork.
He gobbled the cake down quickly enough, wisely deciding to take a break before he tackled the other two. While doing so, he picked up his phone and snapped a picture of the table and Ivy, shooting it off to Xingyi before he could change his mind. Ivy tilted his head, a silent question, and Sun Fang explained, ”Xingyi thinks you’re cute.”
Ivy nodded, easily accepting this reasoning. And why wouldn’t it? Ivy was the cutest, most adorable, most perfect, most precious being in the universe!
Coughing softly, Sun Fang opened his game again, but didn’t start it right away. Rather, he asked, ”Did you talk to Mo Cheng?”
”There was no time,” Ivy paused for a second, uncharacteristically uncertain. But it still added, ”I told him we’re leaving tomorrow. He said that I should convey his well-wishes.”
Sun Fang bit his bottom lip softly, nodding. He sighed, releasing the breath he’d inadvertently held in. ”That’s good,” he noted, picking up his cup of coffee and sipping at it. Ivy’s gaze bored into his skull, and Sun Fang finally smiled at it. ”Really, it’s good,” he repeated, smiling. He leaned forward over the table, knocking his knuckle against Ivy’s shoulder.
Ivy stared at him. It’s gaze switched to his hand, and then it held up its own. Sun Fang didn’t hesitate grabbing the cold, mechanical hand. He squeezed it, smiling at his most important person. Ivy’s answering smile was small, and simple, and heartbreakingly genuine.
”You don’t need to worry about me,” muttered Sun Fang. Then he glanced at the two cakes left, and winced, ”Well, maybe my stomach…”
Ivy bobbed its head, and squeezed his hand, once, before letting go. It declared, ”I will take care of you when can’t move from the pain tonight.”
”Hey, it won’t be that serious.” Sun Fang ignored Ivy’s dubious look and picked up his fork again, stabbing a piece of cake right in the heart like the ruthless person he truly was. Smiling, he bit down on it and mumbled to Ivy, ”I have a very strong stomach.” Ivy just gazed at him in silence, and Sun Fang scooted back on his chair, resolutely ignoring the coming consequences of his actions.
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