𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘺 {𝙘𝙝𝙤 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙜/𝙤𝙘} ⚢

ix.

"i barely remember him," i admitted, appreciating this more vulnerable, romantic side of lian. it was so warm, and i shouldn't be jealous, but i was.

not because i didn't want lian with arwen (i wanted her happiness more than anything, and if he could bring that to her, especially in her repressed, depressed, magicless state, i'd be overjoyed!), i just longed for such a love, too. i pined for it.

"if i remember well, he was very handsome," i said, searching my memory for images of him.

"he is," lian interjected after less than a second. she seemed giddy (lian giddy? it was lunacy!).

"he's why i played quidditch." he was an amazing player. "i saw him play multiple times in my first year. he was really good. he was head seeker for gryffindor, and while watching him, i realised i wanted to feel that adrenaline rush as well."

"really?"

"yeah," i smiled. "believe it or not, i sucked at even ridding a broom. i had to practice constantly!"

"i'm sure that wasn't too hard, at least not for you," lian teased, "little ravenclaw." i grimaced.

i loved lian. she always made me feel better when i needed it. she was the bestest friend i'd ever had. i guessed, even amid tragedy, one (at least one for now!) great encounter came out of coming to china-- lian.

"cho, tell me, how do you flirt with a british boy?" a deep chuckle made its way to my throat and burst out of me. needless to say, i wasn't one to ask advice when coming to love (but lian couldn't have known that!).

"they’re no different than the lads here, really." lian raised her eyebrow in suspicion. she wasn’t buying it. "okay, perhaps a bit," i sniggered. "but you're pretty westernised already."

"hey," lian said.

"it's not invariably a bad thing. be yourself," i suggested. "i love you."

"and that's supposed to comfort me, how?" she taunted gleefully.

“i promise, just be you.”

“it’s not all men that like asian women.” i’d never heard lian insecure about her looks before. it saddened me.

“you’re beautiful!”

“i know that,” lian spoke with credence, but i could tell that she’d appreciated my compliment.

we left the bay and lumbered from shop to shop. the smell of markets and freshly cut wholegrain bread, baozi, huo guo, bing tanghulu imbued our surroundings. i bought a loaf for later (which i’d have to hide from bao since he only let me go to one small grocer nearby. it was solely five minutes away from our home).

lian and i sat on a bench quietly and ate our late afternoon lunch. i liked our calmness. it reminded me of the bottle i wanted to throw to the pits of the briny. we sat for over another twenty minutes, here and there dreaming about what we would do if we ever travelled together, where we'd go and what we'd see (she spoke of the ivory coast and southern italy like a promiseland), before i checked the time. i had to get back home.

“i’ve got to go,” i voiced, slowly standing from where we’d been seated. i wanted to stay more than anything, stroll around the village and wait until nightfall where we could walk slowly to the bay to meet up with her mates together (where i didn't have to go home first to bao).

“aw, already?” lian asked.

“i’m afraid so.” her smile faded as she breached the distance between us and hugged me tightly. lian pulled back and kissed my cheek. she’d just applied more tinted, mulberry lip balm, and i knew with certainty she’d marked my visage with its dark plum colour. 

i didn’t brush it off; a sad foreshadowing.

“i’ll see you tonight, then?”

“yes,” i agreed. i waved as i left and made me way past the markets and yalong (and all the other places bao would kill me if he knew i was at!). i pushed the thoughts of him out of my mind. i’d had a good day, and i was going to have a good night as well. i felt it in my bones (my cracked ribs!).

i walked the familiar streets leading to my neighbourhood and greeted passerbys. for all i knew, they could have been neighbours. i never really left the house (unless it was to go see lian in secret or to go to the small grocers a bend or two away).

i sighed as i reached my entrance and opened the front door.

bang!

my breaths hitched, and i froze. the vase that bao had since childhood was broken to bits and pieces of terracotta all over the ground. i was yelling on the inside. this wasn’t good. this was really, really bad.

i peered up, and if the air hadn’t already been knocked deceased out of me, i would have probably fainted right then and there. however, being me, i was used to functioning breathlessly.

“bao--”

and with chaos, sometimes, wrath.