Two Violins, One Love, BAE

Chapter 13 chòu dòu fu (臭豆腐)

Brett's phone vibrated.

from Xiang

where r u? we r at the flat. starving. meet u at ningxia night market? 30 min?

The market was one of Taipei's best for street food. His favourite, anyway. And tempting, delicious food was something you cannot, must not resist when in Taiwan.

Brett typed his reply.

To Xiang

starving too. see u there. welcome home!

He'd had an hour by himself to calm down, walk around, and enjoy his birth city, its buildings, its smells. He loved eavesdropping on conversations, all the dialects, the multitude of accents. Even if he'd left as a child, he still had lots of memories. He felt at home. As home as he would ever be. His mood perked up. He would apologise to Eddy. He had to. He would find the right moment. But for now, it suited him that they would hang out as a gang.

When the four of them met at Ningxia, Eddy had the camera and was busy filming the stalls and the food, the rows of battered squids on sticks, like puppets with wriggly hair, the glistening pyramids of sweet potato balls... Whenever Brett would approach him however, Eddy would busy himself, talking to a stall holder, or translating for Yanis.

"nín hǎo" Eddy said, and Yanis repeated after him. "xiè xie" and again Yanis repeated. "You're doing really well," Eddy said.

Then Xiang gave Yanis some stinky tofu to try, the local speciality. "chòu dòu fu," Eddy said, pointing at it. And he was the only one who didn't laugh when poor Yanis gagged and spat it out.

"It's horrible, it's like vomit!" Yanis moaned.

"chòu dòu fu" Eddy said again as he glanced briefly at Brett, "also means something like 'lovable under a rough exterior'."

All evening, Eddy translated the stall holders' long explanations about all the delicious food, taking an interest in everything and everyone. He looked serious, but so gentle, and beautiful under the streetlights and the dozens of lanterns. For a guy with social anxiety... either tonight is the exception or he's making a really big effort, Brett thought.

By the time they returned to the flat that night, their heads were full of images, their stomachs replete, and their spirits high. But Brett had failed to corner Eddy even for one second to apologise for his earlier outburst. They sat in the common room chatting away, sipping bubble tea, and Brett hardly noticed when Eddy stood up to go to bed.

When he walked into the bedroom at last, Eddy was wrapped up in his duvet like a cocoon. Brett sat on the edge of the bed.

"Eddy?" he whispered. He listened to his breathing. It was steady. He must be really asleep. Brett put out his hand and lightly rested it on Eddy's shoulder.

"I was a dickhead earlier. Sorry," he said very quietly.

If he woke him up, he might not be in the best of moods, because sleep is a very serious business for hedgehogs. He withdrew his hand and lowered his head. That wasn't a good start to his birthday week.