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It has been over a year since they moved in, but Shi Qingxuan still finds herself a little out of place at times.
The metro is always packed on her way back. As the train picks up speed, multiple bodies press upon her from all sides, so she tries to manuever herself to a spot she can settle in temporarily (her stop does not arrive for the next half an hour or so). The air inside is stuffy, the characteristic smell of urban metro mixes with the body odour of a hundred exhausted people, with nauseating notes of strong deodrants and a hint of something that was once edible. At the begining, this whole ordeal almost made her sob out of frustration, but now she has developed a steady sense of indifference and the technique of placing herself at one of the corners where she finds it's marginally better than standing in the thick of it. She pulls out her phone, hangs her backpack in front, and lets her mind relax for the day, as the periodic opening of the automatic gates, and people boarding and alighting fades into the background. Buildings race past outside while the sun sets on the horizon, leaving the sky steeped with a warm orange. The crowd thins down the closer she gets to home, and at some point, she's able to sit her ass down and let her feet rest, prepare herself for the fifteen minute walk waiting her once she deboards.
Today her feet are giving her a particularly bad time. Shi Qingxuan suspects that this new pair might have given her a shoe bite. Her stomach growls once she's out of the station, and a part of her is craving spicy seafood soup from that one particular restaurant in the city center. But they'll proabably have to get that delivered home, since He Xuan will be returning late this evening, and her own energy levels have hit the rock bottom for the day. On top of that, the month is about to end, and finances are running a little tight as usual. A sigh escapes her, a contrast to the girl from two years ago who might have let the looming disappointment get the better of her, and ended up spending impusively to cope again.
When she arrived here a year and a half ago, she used to stick out like a sore thumb. Too easily inconvienced thanks to her sheltered life growing up and afterwards. Longing far too often for a past that she has willingly let go of. Ghosts still visit her, but she's stirred out of her sleep by them less. As she takes a pause to catch breath, she stares up at the apartment that she has decided to call her home for a while — each tiny balcony having a distinct set of features, a glimpse into the lives of the people they belong to. The auntie that lives above them is flipping through a magazine, and when she catches sight of her, she flashes her a smile and after making a remark about how tired she looks lets her know that the elevator is out of order. Shi Qingxuan's smile turns to a grimace. As she steps inside and makes her way to the staircase, she notices on her way, that true to the auntie's words, a makeshift paper sign is hanging in front of the elevator, announcing its inability to assist the residents today.
While her clothes stick to her body uncomfortably and the blister on her foot makes her wince in pain, she has no option but to haul herself upstairs to their apartment located on the fifth floor. This isn't the first time and perhaps because she's too tired, her emotional reaction to this series of hiccups is another weary sigh at best. She has found that the best way to go through unavoidable but unpleasant tasks is to just let the motions carry her across, and just get over with it somehow. So she does that.
(Again and again)
Key in the lock, the door swings open and once inside, she crashes into their new sofa. It's not new as a product (they bought it second hand) so the springs let out a noisy creak, as she sinks. A hand reaches out and the fan overhead comes to life. Lying down in that lopsided position that must not be comfortable at all, she stares and stares at the blades of the fan.
She loses track of time, and it's only the building discomfort that kicks her out of that position. After checking on her blistered feet, she mechanically goes through the routine tasks. At the end, the thought of having to cook sends her down a spiral of 'what to do'.
She usually, and that means more than seventy percent of the time, keeps out of the kitchen and lets He Xuan deal with it, while she deals with other (perhaps simpler, she thinks) aspects of housework. But work has been keeping her other half away from home more frequently these days, so the responsibility of making them meals has fallen upon her. She ends up resorting to buying something from the convenience store an embarassing amount of times. And as she stands staring inside the fridge, guiltily savouring the chill air that wafts out, she ends up at tomato egg stir fry once again.
There are only so many things she can make. (And only so many things she can change about herself to fit better into He Xuan's world. It's a silly fear but she does wonder what if she grows bored of her company one day. Or worse, frustrated to the point of breaking things off.) But she does this one thing well, and she does it with love. And she hopes it can help cover up for whatever she lacks in skill.
So she turns on music, prepares them dinner and keeps checking the time and counting down to when her lover and roommate shall return. The streetlights have flickered to life, and evening is now crossing into the territory of night. The music does help with the dull sense of discomfort that has lodged itself at the back of her mind. She chalks it down to the blisters and the exertion and leaving her desire for hot seafood soup unsatiated. Then there's that sense of incompleteness, an unsettling sound that echoes inside her making her question things, especially herself.
(Does the aftermath of a tragedy allow for a home built on love. "It's wobbly, at best.")
Dinner is ready. And in the shared kitchen-dining-living room space, the smell of tomato egg stirfy lingers warmly. Shi Qingxuan settles down at the tiny dining table beside the kitchen counter. The clock reads 8:56pm and she wishes that He Xuan, her A-Xuan, were back home already.
But He Xuan isn't back for quite a bit longer, so the tiredness in her body sinks even deeper and lulls her into a half asleep, dazed state. It isn't pleasant, as half formed, haphazard thoughts come, intensify that sense of discomfort, and ultimately makes her eyes sting with unshed wetness. Amongst it all, a voice keeps calling for the one she's waiting for.
So when she does return, dinner has long gone cold. She lets her flop down on the sofa, she shuffles around and heats the food up again, only an imperceptible 'hm' comes from the other. The exhaustion is painfully evident in He Xuan's demeanour and she appears even more sullen and brooding than usual. Shi Qingxuan doesn't push conversation either, instead satisfying herself with staring at her dark clothed counterpart silently. Her short dark hair would perhaps still appear neat to the average bystander, but she can tell that it's no longer in place like it was in the morning — frustrated fingers have run through them multiple times, tousling up the strands. The chain, that hangs around both of their necks, isn't tucked away inside the black inner shirt. Instead it's sitting crookedly on display. The metal of hers is suddenly cold against her skin, while her face a little hot. He Xuan has never been loud about them, it's usually her who does the job of letting others know.
"Qingxuan."
The sound of her own name, spoken in that austere voice, yet she will never miss the tenderness that is hiding there. Her tiredness is obvious, yet when she continues, the subject is not herself. "How was your day?"
She smiled ruefully as she answers, "boring, not fun. How about yours?"
"Long… but uneventful otherwise. I have half the day off tomorrow."
It's a Saturday. So they can spend the morning in bed. "Good," she says. "You finally get to rest a little."
"It'll be back to the usual on Monday."
"Well, we can be happy about the small things still."
At that, He Xuan looks up to meet her eyes, the movement of her mouth coming to a stop. And she fixes her with a stare that makes her blush and look away. Still so easily affected by her. There's always an intensity to the way she loves, and it has overwhelmed her in the past and continues to do so today — but that's not to say that she doesn't like it like that. She especially likes that.
"I can't disagree," she finally says after a few moments of silence and puts her chopsticks down. The bowl of rice is clean. "You know, you have changed quite a bit and still you haven't changed at all."
She hears the fondness beneath, and when she looks around, she sees it too. Her heart melts and all that has been bothering her, begins to slip away. This is what makes her stay and pick up the broken pieces everytime it all comes crashing down. After all, it's a home built on shaky ground, and their foundations are honestly far less than ideal.
A light brush on her cheek as she picks up the dishes and carries them to the sink. Then they fall into the usual rhythm of cleaning up and putting things away for the night. And before bed, they have their daily ritual of spending a little time on the balcony. He Xuan smokes, and today she joins. Lull descends and her head finds rest on the other's shoulder.
She tells her about the fucking shoe giving her blisters, and she brings up the seafood restaurant. They decide that perhaps it would be a nice place to visit once the new month rolls around. Then silence falls, and its that comfortable kind of silence that she is so fond of. But it's interrupted, as a hand reaches her face. He Xuan grabs her chin gently and turns her face around, startling her a little in the process. Lips press upon hers, intoxicating, and relief and excitement course through her at the same time. She properly turns around and deepens the kiss, to satisfy the yearning in her heart. To want to simply dissolve in this kiss that her lover, bestows upon her.
When they part, she finds herself caught in another one of those stares. Then He Xuan posits a strange question.
"Do you want to visit the sea someday?"
Shi Qingxuan breaks into a wide smile, but she doesn't jump at the possibility, and while that's uncharcteristic of her, the one holding her seemed to have expected the little hesitation.
(For the past was buried at the sea.)
Shi Qingxuan hasn't followed through an impulsive decision in a while. Well, this time it wasn't entirely hers to make, nor was it completely impulsive. It has been building up for a while, and both of them, they decided, deserve a break.
Second weekend of next month, they leave for this not-entirely impromptu trip. The sea isn't far from where they live, but it still takes a train ride. The hotel is booked for one night. And once she's standing at the beach during sundown, the waves crashing upon her feet, the sands shifting underneath, it finally hits her, in all its certainity, just how much things have changed over the last two years.
Immediately her chest tightens and breathing turns a little too strained for her liking, as the tide comes rolling in. She starts walking, looking for a thin and tall figure dressed in all black. She chose this path, one that twists away from illusionary comfort, and fought to not be overcome by the ghosts. She kept moving, and now they have been left far behind. She spots He Xuan, and Shi Qingxuan breaks into a small run. Once she's within reach, all she can do is throw her arms around her shoulders.
"What happened?" she asks, perplexed.
She clings on to reality. The smell of salt and of the detergent in her lover's clothes. The arms that hold her, when they could have not.
"Got reminded of things," she replies in a small voice. She could have stayed, not taken the hand offered to her, albeit begrudgingly, and keeled over.
Stayed little Qingxuan forever.
A hum of acknowledgement is what comes first. And a little later, "well you're here, now."
"Yes. Yes, I am here."
"Regrets?"
"Not really, no. Not when it comes to us." Stagnancy was probably not worth it. A peck on the forehead, a squeeze of her shoulders, and it unties the knot in her chest. Was this new life then? "A-Xuan, do you have regrets?"
There's a sigh, and then silence. "You know there are bound to be some," she replies softly. "But, Qingxuan, you are not one of them."
The uncomfortable tightness dissolves.
"Come, let's take a walk."
He Xuan tugs her along and she lets her presence be her comfort. And Shi Qingxuan finds that the answer and the reason is right here. With her.
The thing is, Shi Qingxuan has always been so terribly in love with this person. And He Xuan, despite everything, has chosen to love her too.