The call with Mianmian was disconnected, and Sun Fang laid on the couch, staring sightlessly at the ceiling. His gaze was unfocused, uneven, unwhole. He felt—shattered.
He heard the door opening, heard the footsteps on the hardwood floors. He could recognize those footsteps in his sleep, he was sure. He would recognize them when he was old and lonely, and had forgotten everything else. Those footsteps sat in his blood, now. And he felt it when Ivy stopped by his feet, standing still and silent for a moment before it said, ”I have a movie ready to play on the big screen.”
Sun Fang didn’t react. He continued to stare at the ceiling, his cheeks sticky with dried tears and snot. His chest was heavy, as if a rock had stolen his heart’s place. His hands laid over his stomach, fingers entwined, his stomach rising and falling with his breaths. He tastes blood when his tongue made contact with his lips, and salt, too.
”Xiao Fang…” Ivy said, volume getting lower. It didn’t move, didn’t try to touch him. It simply stood next to him, while Sun Fang’s brain momentarily unraveled and he was left but a bare creature drying out on the beach, mere centimeters from the water that he so desperately needed.
He stared at the ceiling until his eyes watered from lack of blinking. His eyes already hurt, as did his head, and he grimaced, the movement faint but noticeable to Ivy. Ivy, who was still standing beside him, who hadn’t moved in however long it’d been. Sun Fang felt a wobble begin to twist his lips again, and he finally moved; bringing up a hand to cover his puffy eyes.
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.
”Ivy…” he called, voice low, hoarse, and gravely. He scooted around on the couch, twisting and turning as he forced himself onto his side, head facing Ivy, who was standing below by his feet. He held out a hand, silently. His lips continue to dangerously wobble.
Ivy took his hand. ”I am here, Xiao Fang,” it said, reassuringly. It only held his hand, but it’s grip was secure and tight, and Sun Fang clung onto it like a lifeline.
He couldn’t stop the tears—they fell over his eyes onto his cheeks, sliding down to the couch due to gravity. He sniffled harshly, pulling the snot back into his nose, and shoved his face into the pillow getting increasingly wetter by the second.
His head pounded.
It hurt.
Everything hurt so much.
”Ivy—” Sun Fang started again, his nose so stuffy he couldn’t breathe through it. He pulled on Ivy’s hand, pulled the android closer, pulling his butler as close as he could. ”It hurts,” he muttered into the pillow, hating the rasp he could hear in his voice. He wanted… he didn’t know.
”I am right here, Xiao Fang,” Ivy repeated, finally sitting down next to Sun Fang on the couch, the soft couch dipping below its weight. It sat by his middle, and Sun Fang drew up their connected hands to his chest, squeezing tightly. Ivy added, ”I will be always be right here with you,” and Sun Fang pushed himself up to a sitting position, on the edge of bawling like a baby. He wanted—
”Hug,” he whispered, his face twisting with his sadness, and his tears, and his emotions. He turned to Ivy when he sat, his expression surely as horrible as his heart felt, and he sniffled again. With wide eyes, he stared at Ivy.
Ivy held open its arms, and Sun Fang flopped onto its embrace. He felt Ivy’s arm tightly encircle him, felt the warmth and coldness of its body and its synthetic skin, and closed his eyes. He slumped onto Ivy, body finally relaxing, as he cried into its chest.
It took him—he didn’t know how long. But eventually, the tears dried out. Eventually, he was merely being hugged by his favorite person in the world, mind finally quiet and silent and free of the thoughts that had been plaguing him since he woke up this morning. Eventually, exhaustion settled over him, pulling him down into a thoughtless sea of stars that made him blink sleepily into Ivy’s chest.
”Do you want me to let go?” Ivy asked, once it noticed that Sun Fang was no longer crying.
Sun Fang made a tiny, protesting noise. His fingers clenched on Ivy’s suit, wrinkling the fabric. Ivy shushed him softly, brushing a hand through his hair and gently massaging his head. ”Do you wish to see the movie, now?” it asked him, voice soft as silk. Sun Fang thought for a moment, then made a single, sharp nod, face still hidden in Ivy’s chest.
”Okay,” Ivy confirmed. It brushed through his hair again, and Sun Fang closed his eyes, letting the calmness Ivy radiated sink into his bones. Ivy’s head pressed against his, its cheek rubbing his hair. Ivy asked, ”Should I carry you to the living room?”
Sun Fang nodded again. He swallowed harshly, his mouth and lip and throat all dried out now. Ivy made a soothing sound, humming something softly, and Sun Fang went limp as Ivy secured its grip on him and effortlessly stood up, carrying him without a single hint of trouble. It started walking, exiting the study and moving through the hallway. Sun Fang’s head was on its shoulder, his face turned to Ivy’s throat.
He breathed in Ivy’s scent, felt the fabric in his grip wrinkle even further as his fingers twisted it again. There was a wet patch on Ivy’s chest where Sun Fang’s tears had sunk in.
They walked in silence to the living room, and once there, Ivy sat down on an armchair. It grabbed the remote, and the movie started playing at a low volume. It took several minutes for Sun Fang to turn around on Ivy’s lap so he could see the screen, but when he did, Ivy’s arm settled around his stomach, securing him, grounding him.
The movie continued playing, and Sun Fang eventually fell asleep.
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