Chapter 16

From a girl's perspective, what happened just now was probably very unpleasant, right? Being held like that by a boy.
She should have felt disgusted.
Was she disgusted by being touched by him, or disgusted by being pushed away?
One confused thought after another filled his mind. Chen Hang didn't know how to ask, and honestly couldn't ask them all.
He could only tentatively grab Luo Zhuowei's wrist, with almost no force, carefully trying to make her turn and look in his direction.
She didn't struggle.
Only, when Luo Zhuowei turned around following his force, tears were still rolling down her face.
Chen Hang, who could be said to be seeing a girl's tears for the first time, was completely panicked. He reflexively wanted to let go: "Sorry." But Luo Zhuowei's cool fingers caught his palm instead.
Two voices collided.
Apologizing at the same time as him was Luo Zhuowei, who was silently crying.
"Sorry..." She seemed to have just realized she was crying. Her hand holding the bag had long since let go, letting the bag fall haphazardly on the entryway floor. She used her free hand to blindly wipe the tear tracks from her face, but struggled to control it, finally giving up on this wiping action.
The Chen Hang before her looked even more confused than her. His helpless yet wanting to clumsily comfort her made Luo Zhuowei feel a slight heartache for the first time.
What was he apologizing for? Being so gentle to her at a time like this was too fatal.
His gaze made her feel she had nowhere to hide. She had almost used up the last bit of courage. Her tone was like a last desperate gamble before execution: "I... am I being disliked by you?"
Am I being disliked by you?
This shouldn't be a question Luo Zhuowei would ask.
Both this question and the way she gently lowered her eyes to wipe away tears made it impossible to tell if she was being strong or weak.
I finally found the reason for her abnormality in this somewhat abrupt question: My action of pushing her away just now had made her misunderstand.
She was still crying, but the entryway, which was too narrow for two people, had nothing except a shoe cabinet. Perhaps it was the atmosphere, or maybe this low fever really had me not quite clear-headed. I reflexively raised my other hand that wasn't being held by her and carefully used my hoodie sleeve to wipe her tears: "No."
"Actually, I should be the one saying that." Distance—exceeding it once was overstepping. Exceeding it a second time had a bit of a "might as well" meaning. The distance closing again now actually made me very nervous too, but stopping her tears was more important right now: "Pushing you away just now... I'm sorry."
I couldn't say it: I pushed her away because I was afraid I would lose control and have a reaction.
I wanted to continue with evasive explanations, but my gaze paused on Luo Zhuowei's face, which I had wiped somewhat red. Slightly raising it, I met her gaze, which held moisture. Only a few drops of wetness had fallen on my hoodie sleeve. Her tears had stopped at some point.
She looked at me, her warm breath gently hitting my face.
"…………"
My heart, realizing something, began ringing alarm bells, pounding wildly.
Stop.
My remaining reason wanted to struggle weakly, but emotion had long been soaked soft and rotten in the earlier surge of emotion, all turning into bubbling beer, flowing drunkenly into my brain.
Stop.
My wrist, which had originally just been wiping her tears horizontally, turned direction. My right hand's fingers uncontrollably landed on her left cheek.
Stop...
Luo Zhuowei slowly closed her eyes.
Ah, damn it.
How could I stop now?
I kissed her.
Reason snapped in an instant.
That already-frayed thin thread suddenly broke the moment the scale tilted.
The moment I leaned down to kiss was impulsive and uncontrollable—an accident, but also unable to help myself.
All her expressions and body language were silently conveying signals that she wouldn't resist. Like the last snowflake before an avalanche, light and floating, yet completely making all emotions and palpitations spiral out of control.
The haziness and heat from the low fever had completely cleared the moment our lips touched. Chen Hang's first reaction upon coming to his senses was to pull away: Even if it was the atmosphere, and Luo Zhuowei didn't seem to want to resist, he still shouldn't have kissed her so easily at such a moment.
But the moment he showed a bit of clear intention to retreat, the other party sensitively noticed. The hoodie collar was tightly gripped by those slender hands, pulled forcefully. The lips that had barely separated by less than half a millimeter pressed together again.
"Wait..."
That half-sentence of stopping that had barely been uttered was like a reverse catalyst. One kiss was passion and confusion. Two kisses was intentional.
Chen Hang clearly felt Luo Zhuowei's hands gripping his collar were trembling, but even so, she was desperately standing on tiptoe. Her whole body's language said this wasn't anyone's one-sided going with the flow.
Passionate, out of control, what she wanted.
It didn't matter whose tongue extended first, or who first revealed the gap between lips and teeth. The uncontrollable hormones and attraction of puberty had long made this kiss change flavor.
Abandoning innocence, yet still awkward. Between deep kisses, only gasping for breath remained, but the desire not to separate was a hundred, a thousand times deeper than that slight oxygen deprivation. It could only be described as addictive.
Perhaps boys were naturally better at taking the lead in kissing. Even that Chen Hang, in this kiss, carried a hint of aggressiveness.