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Golden Banquet Hotel, 1907.
Xia Yu stood at the door for a long time, hesitating, but never knocked.
I have to say that Lu Zhao was quite considerate in this regard. He specially booked a relatively remote hotel, which was a suite. There were not many guests on each floor, so the privacy was very good, which saved him some trouble.
He didn't know whether Lu Zhao had come, but the scene of him standing in the corridor brought back some bad memories.
Many times in the past, he stood in the corridor like this, ready to ring the doorbell of his hotel room.
At that time he was still in college and was much more lively and energetic than he is now. He was always in a good mood when he came. It was obviously just a one-night stand, but he secretly felt like it was a date.
Sometimes he came first, and he would lie on the bed watching TV, or order dessert takeout, and when Lu Zhao came, he would deliberately kiss Lu Zhao, making Lu Zhao's lips stained with the sweet taste of the cake.
Lu Zhao always frowned in disgust.
But she didn't reject his kiss.
Xia Yu originally thought that he had forgotten these details long ago, and he didn't even remember Lu Zhao.
But now, standing in the corridor, the cold and bright light is pouring down from the top of my head, and the floor is covered with dark-colored carpet. It feels light and fluttery when I step on it, as if I am walking in the air, with nowhere to put my feet.
The memories of the past were so vivid that his stomach even ached a little without him noticing.
Xia Yu almost wanted to turn around and leave.
But his idea was not put into practice.
Because the door was opened. He didn't ring the doorbell, but the door opened.
Twenty-nine-year-old Lu Zhao was looking at him from behind the door. He was wearing a black bathrobe and looked like he had just taken a shower. His hair was slightly wet, with water droplets sliding down the ends of his hair, dripping onto his collarbone, and then sliding down his chest.
Compared to Lu Zhao during the day, he is less serious and more sexy.
Lu Zhao reached out and grabbed Xia Yu, "Why didn't you knock on the door when you came?"
He pulled Xia Yu in.
The door to the guest room was closed.
Xia Yu looked up at Lu Zhao. He felt inexplicably short of breath and his chest was stuffy, but he didn't want to talk or show any stage fright, so he let Lu Zhao pull him inside.
Lu Zhao took him into the bedroom.
Once you get here, the atmosphere suddenly becomes ambiguous. The soft, light gray bed and double pillow clearly indicate what will happen here.
Lu Zhao sat on the edge of the bed, looking up at Xia Yu. Xia Yu was still wearing his gray windbreaker, his lips tightly pursed. He didn't look like someone who was here to fight, but rather like someone who was here to negotiate with his mortal enemy.
Lu Zhao thought about it, then exerted a little force, causing Xia Yu to fall on him.
He put one arm around Xia Yu's waist and held Xia Yu's face with the other.
The two people were so close that they could almost see each other's eyelashes.
Xia Yu's eyes are not pure black, but have a hint of brown. In the sun, they are the color of honey, which makes him always look innocent.
Now these deep brown eyes were staring at Lu Zhao intently.
His lips moved, as if he wanted to say something, but in the end he didn't say anything. He just pursed his lips and licked the corner of his lips with the tip of his tongue as if nervous.
Lu Zhao looked at him for a while, then lowered his head and kissed him.
Unlike the last time in the car, in the storm, the kiss was filled with despair.