The Love Score || Zhuo Zhi

92: You'd Better Not Get Sick

I focused on my breaths as I tried to calm my nerves down. Relax, relax. Zhuo Zhi knows you're a speak-without-thinking person anyway. He won't take it to heart. It'll all be fine.

I groaned and knocked my head on the counter as if I was trying to empty my head of memories that had happened a couple of seconds ago. Of course, it didn't work, but I still straightened up, groaning regretfully.

The kettle was set at the corner of the counter and I wrapped my hand around its handle, filling it with water from the tap. I let the rhythm of water gushing into the kettle drill into my senses bluntly, waiting for it to fill. Once it was full I placed the kettle to boil, then slumped to the floor and buried my head in my hands.

When can I stop saying dumb things like that? I pressed the back of my palms to my cheeks, feeling the rising temperature in my face. Just minutes ago I had been shivering because of the cold rainstorm. I unclipped my pinwheel hair clip from my hair, deciding to take it down now that I didn't want to look any more like a fool than I was already in front of Zhuo Zhi. I inserted the hair clip back into my purse and dried my hair using the thin brown towel, waiting for the kettle to boil as I reflected on my life choices.

The kettle hissed and I stood up, letting the boiling water in the kettle to cool down for a bit. Anything to stall time, honestly.

I paced around in the kitchen for some minutes, straining my ears for any sounds coming from the living room. There was the sound of tinny voices narrating something in strings of sentences and I knew that Zhuo Zhi had turned the television on. I sighed and opened a few cabinets to search for cups, and found some plain-coloured mugs in one of them. I took out two and poured the still-hot water into them. Holding the mugs by their handles, I trudged back into the living room.

Zhuo Zhi was seated on the sofa, his clothes changed but hair still damp, cross-legged with a cushion in his lap as his eyes focused on the TV screen. A faint whacking of tennis balls echoing out from the TV speaker showed that he was replaying some tennis match. 

I swallowed and tried to come off as nonchalant after the embarrassing encounter just some moments ago. "Which match is this?" I asked, placing the mugs on the coffee table. "Drink some warm water, Senior."

Zhuo Zhi shifted over to make space for me on the sofa and took a mug from the table. "This is the 2010 Australian Open Women's Singles," he explained, taking a sip from his mug. "The quarterfinal between Venus Williams and Li Na. Probably mine and Xiao Yu's favourite replay to watch so far."

"Impressive," I nodded as I watched Li Na execute a powerful serve to her opponent's court. Somehow, Li Na's facial appearance sparked something familiar in my memory, but I couldn't put my finger on it. I rubbed my hands together, still feeling slightly cold. I shrank further back into the sofa uncomfortably.

Zhuo Zhi's head turned at sensing my movement. "Here," Zhuo Zhi plucked the cushion from his lap and handed it to me, plopping it on my legs. It was still warm from his body heat and my skin under the cushion tingled.

I bit the inside of my cheek. "Thanks, Senior," I smiled shyly but still picked up the cushion and gave it back to Zhuo Zhi. "But you should take it instead. In fact, should I get a blanket...?"

Zhuo Zhi pushed the cushion away from him, letting it fall back in my lap. "I'll turn the air-conditioning down. And, as I said, I have a strong immune system," he grinned.

"I'm still not convinced," I retorted, taking the cushion off my legs and placing it back on Zhuo Zhi's.

Zhuo Zhi sighed, leaning back and taking another cushion that was placed beside him. "Alright then, I'll give you this--" he chucked the other cushion at me, which I caught in my hands. Its cloth was cool, however, lacking his body heat that the first cushion held. "-- and this," Zhuo Zhi added, turning around and pulling something off from the corner of his sofa.