Xu Chen hadn't sent the message last night to Aum, so he tried.
He tried to send today but did not send the message.
That became the problem.
The contact remained open on his screen for nearly four minutes while the study sat in complete silence around him. Outside the window, Dali had already settled into its colder midnight hours. The mountains beyond the city were invisible now, swallowed by darkness and low drifting cloud.
Still, he did not type anything.
Because every sentence sounded wrong.
Are you awake?
Too familiar.
We should talk.
Too serious.
My father met you today.
Too dangerous.
Xu Chen locked the phone and set it face down on the desk.
Then immediately picked it up again.
The irritation that followed was directed almost entirely at himself.
Meera would never let him survive this conversation later.
The thought nearly made him smile again.
Nearly.
Xu Chen stood from the desk abruptly and walked toward the kitchen.
The villa remained silent in the peculiar way large houses often did at night—not empty exactly, but too still to feel lived in. The motion-sensor lights along the hallway illuminated one after another as he passed.
The guest room door stood slightly open.
Xu Chen slowed unconsciously.
The room inside remained untouched since Aum left.
Not intentionally untouched.
Meera would never let him survive this conversation later.
The thought nearly made him smile again.
Nearly.
Xu Chen stood from the desk abruptly and walked toward the kitchen.
The villa remained silent in the peculiar way large houses often did at night—not empty exactly, but too still to feel lived in. The motion-sensor lights along the hallway illuminated one after another as he passed.
The guest room door stood slightly open.
Xu Chen slowed unconsciously.
The room inside remained untouched since Aum left.
Not intentionally untouched.
Just… postponed.
He had removed the obvious traces. Folded the blanket. Cleared the temporary equipment. Locked away everything dangerous. But smaller things remained because removing them required looking directly at them.
A book still rested near the window.
One of Aum's.
Xu Chen had noticed it three days ago.
He had not moved it.
His gaze lingered there for one second too long before he looked away and continued toward the kitchen.
The kettle was already in his hand before he realized what he was doing.
Another pause.
Then a short breath escaped him through his nose.
"Unbelievable," he muttered quietly to himself.
Because he was not thirsty.
And because for the past two months, making tea after midnight had stopped being a solitary habit.
Xu Chen stared at the kettle for a moment longer before setting it back down untouched.
The kitchen suddenly felt too large.
His phone vibrated.
Xu Chen looked down immediately.
Then a short breath escaped him through his nose.
"Unbelievable," he muttered quietly to himself.
Because he was not thirsty.
And because for the past two months, making tea after midnight had stopped being a solitary habit.
Xu Chen stared at the kettle for a moment longer before setting it back down untouched.
The kitchen suddenly felt too large.
His phone vibrated.
Xu Chen looked down immediately.
Meera laughed softly on the other end. "Chen, your father mentioned another person beside Aum and you nearly entered cardiac arrest."
Xu Chen closed his eyes briefly.
"That is an exaggeration."
"You're right. Cardiac arrest requires breathing irregularity. Yours was more existential collapse."
Despite himself, Xu Chen let out a quiet breath that almost resembled amusement.
Meera caught it instantly.
"There," she said triumphantly. "See? Still alive."
"I regret calling you."
"No, you don't. You would have spent the entire night reorganizing your thoughts alphabetically if I wasn't here."
Xu Chen walked toward the balcony doors slowly.
Outside, the garden lights cast pale reflections across the stone path leading downhill.
"Did you contact him?" Meera asked.
"No."
"Why?"
Xu Chen looked out toward the dark city below.
Because the moment he heard Aum's voice, the distance of the past seven days would stop feeling theoretical.
Because once he stepped back into Aum's orbit emotionally, he was no longer sure he could pretend this was temporary.
Because some part of him already knew what he wanted—and wanted it enough to be afraid of it.
Instead, he said:
"I don't know what I'm supposed to say."
Meera was quiet briefly.
Then, unexpectedly gentle, "You know what your problem is?"
Xu Chen exhaled quietly. "Apparently many things."
"You keep thinking there's a correct way to feel this." She paused. "As if once you find the proper wording, everything will become orderly again."
Xu Chen rested his forehead briefly against the cool glass.
"And it won't?"
"No." Meera sounded almost amused by that. "That's the entire point."
Silence stretched comfortably for a moment.
Then she added casually, "Besides, Aum already knows."
Xu Chen straightened immediately. "Knows what?"
"That he matters to you."
Xu Chen frowned slightly. "I never said anything."
"Chen." Meera sounded genuinely incredulous now. "You literally let a stranger from another country move into your house after finding him half-conscious near a mountain road. Do you know how insane that sounds from a normal human perspective?"
Xu Chen opened his mouth.
Then closed it again.
Because unfortunately, when phrased like that, it did sound deeply questionable.
Meera continued before he could defend himself.
"You cooked for him."
"He needed food."
"You adjusted your routines for him."
"He was adapting."
"You bought entirely new tea because he disliked the first kind."
Xu Chen went silent.
Meera's voice sharpened immediately with victory.
"Oh my God, you did."
"That is not important."
"That is extremely important."
"He said the bitterness ratio was unpleasant."
"And you changed brands."
Xu Chen pinched the bridge of his nose.
This conversation had become intolerable.
Meera, meanwhile, sounded delighted.
"You are actually hopeless," she informed him warmly.
"I am ending this call."
"No, wait, one final observation."
"I do not want another observation."
"That has never stopped me before." A pause. Then, softer this time: "You don't have to confess everything immediately, Chen."
Xu Chen looked back toward the dark hallway behind him.
"Then what do I do?"
"Start by being honest in smaller ways."
The sentence settled quietly between them.
Meera continued:
"You know why Aum understands you better than most people already?"
Xu Chen did not answer.
"Because with him, you stopped performing normality all the time." Her voice lowered slightly. "You stopped saying the socially correct thing first."
Xu Chen's gaze dropped toward the phone in his hand.
That hurt a little because it was true.
With most people, conversation was navigation.
With Aum, somewhere along the way, it had become instinct.
"You think too much," Meera said.
"I am aware."
"And he thinks too directly. Which somehow makes the two of you everyone else's problem."
A small sound escaped Xu Chen before he could stop it.
A laugh.
Brief.
Real.
Meera immediately became smug again.
"There we go. Humanity restored."
Xu Chen shook his head once quietly.
Then his expression faded again as his eyes drifted toward the untouched kettle behind him.
The second cup still did not exist.
But the space for it did.
Meera's voice softened when she spoke again.
"Message him, Chen."
Xu Chen remained silent for several seconds.
Then finally unlocked his phone again.
Aum's contact appeared instantly.
The cursor blinked against the empty message field.
Waiting.
Xu Chen stared at it for a long moment before typing slowly.
Did work end late today?
He looked at the sentence.
Simple.
Safe.
Almost painfully ordinary.
Which was exactly why it felt honest.
His thumb hovered briefly over the screen.
Then pressed send.
The message disappeared.
Xu Chen stood motionless afterward, staring at the conversation window as though he had just done something significantly more dangerous than sending a single line of text.
Meera's voice came through the speaker quietly.
"Well?"
Xu Chen looked toward the city lights beyond the glass.
"He'll probably answer in under thirty seconds," Meera said confidently.
"Why."
"Because emotionally unavailable people are still people, Chen." She paused. "And that boy has been waiting for you to stop pretending separation solved anything."
Xu Chen's throat tightened unexpectedly.
The typing indicator appeared on the screen.