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Guan Shan shouldn't have accepted.
Well, at least he asked me. He didn't act the way he wanted without my consent, for once, he grumbled mentally, arms crossed.
He Tian was smirking in his seat, a glass of bubbling champagne between his long and thin fingers.
The redhead huffed, clearly impatient.
"I can't believe I actually agreed to your 'excursion'," he said, gritting his teeth.
He Tian put his flute on the table near him, extending his forearm and successfully ruffling the other's hair, softly massaging the scalp and messing with the fiery red strands.
"Don't worry, Little Mo. We'll have lots of fun, I promise," he enounced, his voice deeper than usual, the many hours of sleep to blame.
"Should I trust you?"
Surprised by Guan Shan's inquiry, He Tian cleared his throat, his eyes becoming darker.
Guan Shan gulped.
"Please do, puppy," he pronounced quietly, a genuine grin glued to his lips.
He must be really scared, then...
Guan Shan remained silent, but the feeling of guilt slowly crept on him and travelled through his veins, screaming at him for his lack of empathy.
He truly didn't know why he had nodded and mumbled 'yes' on that Tuesday morning. He Tian had come back a while after the accident, a bit after Guan Shan had been discharged from the hospital. Of course, he had scared him in a random alley, just after the redhaired man had bought different ingredients for a certain recipe at the market.
Guan Shan had been so dumbfounded, he still remembers how paralyzed and unmoving he had been, then.
The first thing he had noticed was that He Tian had offered no sign of pain (no visible scars, no reds nor purples and, most importantly, no sight of dripping blood), which, he had to admit, had been a total relief. The second had been how He Tian had smiled in a weird, fake way; how his façade had cracked down for a slight moment, his body flinching when cars were near, his eyebrows always furrowed.
"Come with me. On a trip."
He had looked awfully tired, his words rushed and his black mane incredibly messy, puffs of air exiting his mouth rapidly.
"What the fuck, dickhead?," had been Guan Shan's response, to which he had added many other questions such as Where were you, demon? or What happened?
Did you eat properly, filthy mutt?
And He Tian had laughed like usual, had touched the only band-aid left on his cheek and had begun caressing his jaw, simply mentioning how he knew Guan Shan had missed him terribly.
In order to end the countless amount of interrogations the smaller male had been throwing at him, He Tian had taken his hand in his and had whispered:
"Want to come with me? We'll go somewhere. Really, anywhere you want, Mo. Just pack your bag, and we're off."
The idea of not going to school for some time had thrilled him and, for some unknown reason, being with He Tian had incredibly reassured him, even if He Tian had tugged on his arm, the both of them running in Shanghai's busy streets, Guan Shan yelling profanities.
Like usual.
That's how they had almost broken Guan Shan's door (well, He Tian had), making his mother jump and practically have a heart attack.
Guan Shan still couldn't believe how easy it had been for the black-haired man to convince his mother of his departure to somewhere for a period of time.
But here he was.
On a private jet, with He Tian and a bunch of scary-looking dudes, set to land somewhere on the planet (Guan Shan still didn't know where, and that thought made him somewhat anxious).
He courageously took He Tian's hand and pressed it against his firmly, He Tian's alerted and intense stare on him within a second.
"We... We'll be okay. I'm sure we will," he muttered, playing with He Tian's fingers.
The latter's shoulders fell and the previously accumulated tension crumbled away, completely faded.
"I promise," He Tian swore. "Sleep, Little Mo."
And Guan Shan did, comforted by He Tian's presence.