The Red String

My Heart Bleeds

Zhou Zishu stumbled out of the room and down the staircase. The glittering marble was cold through his socks and he was grateful for it in the hopes it would cool the anguish raging in his chest. His fingers ached from holding the warming jade in his hand, but he clutched it even tighter.

Just to ground himself. To find that part of him that had been waiting for so long.

Everything in him screamed to go back into that room and climb into Lao Wen's arms, except it wasn't his Lao Wen in that room. It was a man who was both his lover and not.

He slid his boots on when he reached his bike and glanced at the one still parked next to it. The bronze pipes glinted lazily in the sun, and he saw the small jade flower charm with purple beads that Cao Weining kept hooked on the handle. The one that he had found in a market long ago and Cao Weining picked it because it reminded him of a woman with braids and a sunshine smile.

Zhou Zishu was happy for him, he really was, but it hurt at the same time. His longing hurt so much it was difficult to breath let alone walk away, but he forced himself onto his bike. The gate ahead was open already and he ducked his head down, peeling out from the onyx driveway without a glance back. He couldn't. He was so afraid that he wouldn't be able to leave, to say no—to lie to himself that this was his zhiji.

His brain was traitorous though and the image of a slim wrist with the thin red band around it flashed in his mind. 

Wen Kexing was his zhiji. It was real this time.

Over the past century he had watched worlds fall and be built while he remained the same. In that time he had often come across people who resembled his zhiji, and he had fallen so hard the first few times. The pain upon realizing it was not the right person was like a lance to his heart every single time.

He had grown accustomed to checking after that and being disappointed each time. Now that he had finally found Lao Wen, he didn't know what to do. It was like a tide in his chest and he was the sand it took out to sea.

It pushed and pulled until he swirled and sank beneath the waves, helpless to those cool hands.

He could still feel them on his body. On his wrists and his chest, roaming and passionate, pulling from him something he had thought long lost.

Tears caught in his riding glasses and he gasped. The handlebars wavered and he had to pull over for the sea in his chest. It was flowing out from his eyes now, crashing on his cheeks and salty on his lips. He pulled the goggles off, dropped them carelessly and stumbled into the grass on the roadside.

The pain, it was too much. Too much for his old heart and even older spirit. He clutched his heart and felt the hairpin tucked into his jacket. The windswept waves of his hair fell against his cheeks, sticking to the dampness there with determination as he fell to the ground. His internal energy was a chaotic mess and it pushed against him until he tasted blood at the back of his throat.

He coughed, his hand clenching the blades of grass in an attempt to ground himself. They were warm and soft under his fingers but cold misery was pressing on his chest ruthlessly.

He desperately needed to get home. Centering himself, he pushed to stand and searched for the shine of his goggles. His eyes were swollen and he had to rub them several times before he could find the gear.

His fingers trembled horribly when he grabbed them, but he ignored it and got onto his bike again. He concentrated on the low purr of the engine, the sun-warmed metal under him, and the wind rushing past him in a blessed cacophony of white noise. 

It helped to think about things other than the war raging in his head and heart.

The household was asleep when he arrived so he parked his bike in front of the marble and trudged up the steps. He went straight to his room and into the shower, shedding clothes as he went. They still smelled like Wen Kexing and the musky cedarwood seemed to cling to him. It felt like it was under his skin and burrowing into his bones, trying to draw him back to its owner.