【Mi Ying】that side

Arthur was not displeased with the need to wake up early for his routine.On the morning of the rotation, it is a very pleasant time to be able to lie on the lover's bed for half an hour without worrying about the passage of time.

This coziness is further enhanced by the aroma of butter muffins and fried bacon.He lay on his back on the bed, stretched out his hand and opened a corner of the curtains, and the morning sunlight fell on him through the glass, making the whole area warm.

Looks like winter is indeed coming to an end.Arthur sat up, put on the coat Alfred threw on the bed over his pajamas, and walked into the living room after washing.

The Americans had already brought breakfast to the table and waved to the British: "Good morning, Arthur!"

Arthur picked up his glass from the table and took a sip of milk: "Do you have any plans for today?"

Alfred forked the fried egg from the dinner plate, chewed and replied: "Clean the apartment, it's been too messy lately." Arthur took out a tissue to wipe off the grease from the corners of the American's mouth, and the other party immediately gave him a big smiley face.

After the school's project was successfully concluded, the busy rhythm of the college students was finally relieved.Arthur had no special arrangements, so he naturally acted as a cleaning helper.Alfred organized the books, papers and tools on the workbench, while Arthur helped organize the lockers next to the bed.

He opened the drawer and arranged a large stack of notebooks in order of thickness.His lover did have an unusual love of the universe, and most of the notebooks had galaxies, planets, or spacecraft on their covers—except the bottom one, which had a maroon cover.

He touched the cover curiously, and it felt like some kind of animal leather.

"Can I open it and have a look?" He turned to Alfred behind him.

The American just vacated half of the workbench, and replied casually: "Turn through it casually, it's not a state secret."

Arthur opened his notebook.From the yellowed paper, it can be seen that the age is long, and the handwriting is still very childish. Different colors mark the aerospace deeds of different ages.Probably Alfred's high school masterpiece, Arthur guessed.

Scrolling down, there was actually a yellowed photo pasted in the notebook.In the photo, the little boy with blond hair and blue eyes is swinging a baseball bat, smiling mischievously as he turns his head. His signature upturned bangs look like Alfred.Opposite him was another blond boy who was posing to catch the ball. Unfortunately, he was too far away to make out his face. The two in the photo seemed to be good friends.

The trees in the photo grow by the lake, which makes people feel warm and nostalgic.Arthur's heart softened for a while, and he smiled slightly:

"It's the first time I've seen a picture of you when you were a child."

"Huh?" Alfred leaned closer, "Wow, this is a picture of me and Matthew when we were kids!"

"So this is Matthew," Arthur immediately understood the source of the familiarity, "You two have known each other since you were so young?"

"Well, I was quite surprised to meet him here later." Alfred's hand passed through Arthur's waist. He tore the photo from the note and turned the back. handwriting.

Arthur read it word by word: "To my dear Alfred Foster Jones." It's a pity that the name and date of signing the letter have been blurred.

First...?

A strange emotion surged, and Arthur's fingers trembled slightly: "The 'F' in your name is the abbreviation of 'Foster'?"

"Well, it should be a name given to me by a distant relative, but I don't remember who he is."

first. Foster.

"'Frost' means... to nurture, to nurture, to hope."

——What a familiar British accent, with a hint of nasality, the boy's voice was gentle and sad.

The strength of Arthur's whole body seemed to be pulled away in an instant, and a strong rust smell appeared in his throat. He covered his mouth with his hands, but he still couldn't hold back his cough.

He swallowed hard several times, trying to stop the weird desire to vomit, but he couldn't resist the disgusting sensation of viscous liquid accumulating in his mouth, and he coughed hard.Looking down at the palm, his eyes were scarlet, it was bright fresh blood.

A huge metal clock swayed above his head, "Ding-dong--Ding-dong--"

He struggled to raise his eyes, the sky was blue and white, and the weather was unbelievably clear.There was a muffled thump and a flood of cheers from the crowd: "Fourth of July! Our Independence Day!"

In the crowd, the tall young man in a suit was smiling at him, the blue eyes under the glasses——

"Arthur!" A pair of warm palms held his face. Arthur lowered his head and looked at Alfred blankly. The American's face was full of tension.He turned his gaze back to the palm of his hand again, it was dry and clean as usual, and there was no stain anywhere.

Another hallucination... how similar it was in the workshop at that time.Arthur's head ached again.

"Why are you coughing so badly all of a sudden? Have a cold?" Alfred sat down next to the Englishman worriedly.

"No..." Arthur's tone was almost weak.

"If you're tired, lean on my shoulder first." Arthur leaned on Alfred's arm obediently.

He secretly blamed himself for underestimating his physical condition before, whether it was migraine or those weird hallucinations, if it happened again, it might affect his future work and life.He thinks he needs some help with medication, but sadly Honda is no more.He should go to a pharmacist for help.

"Let's go to the pharmacy and get some medicine."

They meet Ludwig at the door of the apartment.Entrusted by the apartment manager Honda, the very responsible Germans always show up in the apartment during non-night shift hours.

After listening to Alfred's explanation, he offered to help: "I'm going back to the pharmacy, take my car. Let my brother find some suitable medicine for Kirkland." Te called.

"These are for you, the same medicine I gave Honda before, remember to take it according to the instructions above."

Gilbert, who was wearing a white coat, looked tall and handsome, with a completely different aura from when he was in the coffee shop, and even spoke in a much more serious tone.

"Is there no way to cure this kind of migraine?" Arthur hesitated to take the medicine.

"I'm just a pharmacist, not a doctor. Migraines can be relieved by medication. If you want to treat them, you need to go to the hospital for a comprehensive examination. I can take you to a Norwegian doctor I know, but his hospital is a bit far from here..."

"...No need." Arthur shook his head.No amount of comprehensive examination could resolve the hallucinations.He still puts his hopes on the medicine, and doesn't want to make a fuss, making it look like he is very fragile.

As if to see through the mind of the British, the silver-haired young man sighed, and stretched out his hands to stroke the British's hair: "Okay, then take medicine and observe."

His fingertips brushed Arthur's forehead, and the Englishman couldn't help shaking: "Gilbert, your hands... are so cold."

The weather is not too cold, and the heating in the pharmacy is sufficient.He thought that a guy like Gilbert, who looked strong and always lively, would be like a flame in winter.

"...It's like this when winter comes." Gilbert's eyes dimmed for a moment.

Alfred, who was a few steps away from them, came forward from behind: "Are there any other considerations?"

Gilbert's gaze stayed on the American's face for a few seconds, then turned back to Arthur's face: "Pay attention to rest. Also, don't think about unnecessary things."

... superfluous things.Are those hallucinations and strange dreams superfluous?Arthur's eyes darkened.

They say goodbye to their German brothers before leaving the pharmacy.Gilbert didn't seem to be very energetic, he could barely squeeze out a smile when Arthur thanked him, and the corners of his mouth almost lost their usual expression.

Arthur was thankful that he hadn't developed a resistance to the same drug, and after a few days of taking the drug as directed, his migraines stopped - as they had in the summer.As the quality of sleep improved, his complexion finally returned to normal, which made Alfred feel relieved.

As the weather warmed up, the hobby of gardening returned to Arthur's schedule, and he started getting up early again.Usually when Alfred is exercising, he'll be out on the patio to weed the succulents and loosen the soil.

Seeing Ivan Braginsky appear on the rooftop on the weekend when the sky was still bright, Arthur was unavoidably surprised: "You...it's really early."

The Russian smiled at him: "Mr. Arthur is right, he comes here every day recently."

They talked about unimportant topics as usual, and tidied the flower garden together - as long as Alfred was not mentioned, the Russians were not difficult to communicate with.

"Mr. Arthur has been in the town for so long, what do you like most here?"

"...I like it very much, everyone is very kind. The scenery is also very good."

"There is always a favorite place, right? Like the sea in the suburbs?" Ivan's tone seemed sly.

Arthur cast a quick glance at the Russian.When he mentioned the sea, he could immediately recall the scene where Alfred confessed to himself, although he never found a chance to go to the beach again... After all, it was a scene he would never forget.

He couldn't help blushing: "I've only been to the sea in the suburbs once... I still like it."

"I like it too." Ivan said in a low voice, "However, I like the scenery of my hometown more."

"Your hometown is in Russia, what's there?"

"In winter there is ice and snow, there is vodka, and in spring, there are fields of sunflowers."

This was the first time Arthur heard Ivan mention his hometown. He always thought that Russians were reluctant to talk about such topics as origin and relationship.Today's Ivan is showing a different kind of suppleness than before.

"That's why you want to grow sunflowers so much. Do you miss your hometown?" Arthur was sensitive enough to other people's emotional changes, and even his tone became gentle.

"Mr. Arthur, are you afraid of getting hurt?"... The Russian-style answer is irrelevant.

"What's the meaning?"

"Hmm...for example, being alienated and slandered by loved ones, or not getting what you want."

"That kind of thing..." Arthur laughed dumbly, "Anyone who is a human being will feel scared."

"Exactly." The Russian buried his face in his knees.After a moment of silence, he turned his head and smiled at Arthur, his narrowed eyes showing some innocence.

Arthur sighed, he still didn't understand the person in front of him, but at this moment he wanted to reach out and touch the other person's head.And he did.His fingers brushed the other's pale golden hair, and it felt unexpectedly soft.

Ivan opened his eyes wide in surprise, and then blushed shyly.Gentle emotions flowed in those lavender pupils: "Mr. Arthur, I am very happy... There should have been no such opportunities in the first place."

The eyes of the Russians seemed to be engraved with fragility, which made Arthur flustered inexplicably: "Why do you say 'originally'?"

"Because I never thought it was possible before I came here," Ivan said slowly, "and I'm leaving soon."

"...Where are you going?"

Ivan stood up and patted his clothes: "...Go back to my hometown." His answer hesitated for a moment.

"Back to Russia?"

"Yes. I still miss that sunflower field very much." The Russian raised his head, his eyes stayed in the distance, and he almost muttered, "Before that, we have to cross that sea first."

"...Hai?" Arthur also stood up, dizzy because of the fast movement, his body shook a few times.Honda seems to have said something similar before leaving...

The rising sun had warmed the thin lavender clouds and cast a halo on the Russian face.He gave the Englishman a benign and harmless smile: "So goodbye." Then he tightened the long scarf around his neck, leaving the Englishman alone on the empty terrace.

After that day, Arthur indeed never saw Ivan Braginsky again.It was as if no one had seen him again.