SGT CH109: Begging You to Love Me
◎Even when asking for love, it came with a great deal of caution and uncertainty.◎
Aix was always stern and reserved.
After becoming a zombie, his emotions had become even fainter.
This was the first time Mousse had seen such intense emotion in Aix’s eyes.
That pair of crimson eyes gazed at him almost abjectly, pleading with him, telling him: Begging you to love me.
Mousse’s mind suddenly went blank.
He had always thought the time Aix loved him most was when he crossed half the city to find him at the start of the apocalypse.
After that, Aix’s love for him was gradually eroded by the cruel competition of the apocalypse.
The strongest ability user in the base and a dodder flower with no ability to protect himself—they didn’t match at all.
Those ability-user teammates who could fight shoulder-to-shoulder with Aix were the ones more suited to stand by his side.
Everyone thought so.
Even Mousse felt they were right.
Perhaps… Aix thought so too.
Aix might still love him, but not as much anymore.
He was no longer Aix’s first choice.
But now, Aix was driven to near madness by his single word, “regret.”
The calm and indifferent surface was shattered, revealing a scarred interior.
The scarlet eyes, a mark of his zombification, stubbornly pleaded for his gaze, humbly begging for his love.
The love had never vanished, only settled, and under the fermentation of time, had transformed into an aged, potent liquor.
Bitter and astringent on the first sip, burning the throat, making one mistake it for having gone bad.
Mousse’s nose stung. He raised his hands to wrap them around Aix’s neck and fiercely kissed his lips.
Aix stiffened for a moment, then immediately hugged him back forcefully. His arms tightened, gathering him close as if wanting to merge him into his very bones and blood.
The clay pot cooking porridge was steaming with fragrant heat. Mousse and Aix were entangled, neither having the mind to pay attention to the outside world.
A thick flower vine reached in through the window and turned off the gas on the stove.
The small courtyard was a riot of splendid blossoms.
The flowers, which had looked slightly wilted after being rained on all night, bloomed even more vibrantly after absorbing enough sunlight.
The originally closed flower buds, under the intense stimulation, all burst into bloom.
Two hours later, Mousse, who hadn’t eaten breakfast and was faint from low blood sugar, dizzily climbed up from the floor.
Before he could fully get up, he was hooked by Aix and fell back into his embrace.
“Don’t go.”
Aix clung to him tightly, resting his chin on his shoulder, looking like he wanted Mousse to die in his arms.
Among the many ways to die Mousse had imagined, this was not one of them.
“I’m going to starve to death.”
Mousse’s voice was weak.
His stomach, pampered by Aix for over a year, was too fragile and couldn’t miss a single meal.
Aix turned his head to look at him, seemingly pondering something.
Then, he took a blanket from his spatial storage, wrapped Mousse in it, picked him up, and placed him on the living room sofa.
Mousse watched his retreating back, silently tightened the blanket around himself, pressing it down as if to cover up, and said helplessly:
“Could you at least put on some clothes?”
Aix picked up his trousers and put them on.
His shirt and jacket had been used as padding just now and were no longer wearable.
So he picked up the apron from the side and tied it on.
What was the difference between this and wearing nothing? It was even more suggestive.
Mousse tried his best to look away, focusing his attention on the meat porridge Aix brought over.
The porridge was warm, not hot, just the right temperature.
Because of the two hours of physical exertion in the morning, he had been hungry for a long time. Finally able to eat, Mousse couldn’t help but eat a lot.
He felt a bit too full.
Just as Mousse’s hand pressed on his stomach, Aix picked him up, his hand reaching under the blanket to rub his belly.
It was a very familiar mode of interaction.
When they first started dating, Aix cooked for him personally to supervise his meals.
Mousse would act resistant on the surface, looking extremely annoyed, but in reality, he would always accidentally overeat.
His stomach was delicate; it couldn’t stand being hungry or being too full. He would feel uncomfortable as soon as he ate too much.
Back then, Aix would sit on the sofa, let him rest his head on his lap, and place a warm hand on his stomach, gently rubbing it for him.
Mousse lay down along Aix’s body, pillowing his head on his lap, and relaxed.
He had thought Aix didn’t love him that much anymore.
But Aix’s expressions and actions were telling him that he had never changed.
Mousse was a little confused.
He thought of the psychic crystal core Aix had given away, of how compatible Aix looked standing with his ability-user teammates, of the care he showed the healer, of that glaring white piece of clothing…
For a moment, he couldn’t tell what was real and what was fake.
Mousse slowly closed his eyes, not wanting to think about those upsetting things anymore, relaxing his mind to enjoy the present.
Aix watched Mousse lying quietly on his lap.
At this moment, Mousse had his eyes peacefully closed, all his thorns retracted. His expression was soft, appearing quiet and well-behaved.
It gave him the illusion… that they belonged to each other and would never be separated.
Aix rubbed for a long time. Mousse’s breathing gradually became even, as if he was about to fall asleep.
He lightened his movements, carefully picked Mousse up, and carried him to the bed in the second-floor bedroom.
When his head touched the pillow, Mousse dazedly opened his eyes, his hazy gaze falling on Aix.
His expression was misty, half-asleep.
Aix reluctantly withdrew his hand and stood aside, lips pressed together.
When he met Mousse’s searching gaze that followed, he said in a low voice:
“I’ll just watch from the side, I won’t do anything else.”
A sour pain rose in his heart, a pain that even his palm could feel.
Aix lowered his eyes and said no more.
Mousse reached out a finger and hooked Aix’s fingertip, which was hanging by his side. Sleepily, he said:
“Don’t leave me.”
“…Okay.”
Aix looked down at their linked fingers, eyes wide open, not daring to move.
“Can you… can you continue to love me…”
A child who has lacked love since young doesn’t know how to express affection; even when asking for love, it came with a great deal of caution and uncertainty.
Mousse stared at Aix insistently. Even though his eyelids were fighting to stay open from sleepiness, he wanted to wait for an answer.
Aix was stunned for a moment, then slowly knelt down, placing his hand in Mousse’s and resting it by his pillow.
With his other hand, he stroked Mousse’s soft hair and answered seriously:
“I will love you forever.”
This answer was far more solemn and firm than what Mousse had wanted to hear.
But the promise was too long-term, which conversely made one feel uneasy.
Under the influence of sleepiness, Mousse slowly closed his eyes, finally gripping the cool hand by his pillow tightly, rubbing his cheek against it before falling into a deep sleep.
·
Aix stood guard by Mousse’s bed for the entire morning.
The following days seemed to return to the past. Mousse lived under the same roof with him, and whenever he felt bored, he would stick to him.
The word “regret” seemed to have never appeared between them.
Aix tried hard to avoid related topics, doing his best to maintain the status quo.
If Mousse brought it up, he would also find ways to change the subject.
If Mousse insisted on talking about it, he would use his spatial ability to escape for a short while.
As if sensing his evasive attitude, or perhaps having forgotten the matter, Mousse gradually stopped mentioning it.
Only when night fell would he pull him into bed.
Aix endured the constant panic of being kicked out by Mousse at any moment while lying by his side, and then, he received many hugs and kisses.
Mousse’s body had been conditioned much better, and his mentality also seemed to have undergone a subtle change. He was no longer so impatient with him and was more willing to use him to satisfy his needs.
He wouldn’t turn cold on him midway through, nor would he frequently show resistance.
He would even cling to him after they were done, asking him to stay by his side.
Occasionally, in the dead of night, he would quietly ask him for confirmation of his love.
Aix wished he could dig out his own heart and give it to him.
He responded to Mousse over and over, promising again and again that he would always love him, always protect him.
He was terrified that Mousse would find someone else to depend on, anxiously offering all the bargaining chips he possessed.
He had many crystal cores.
He let Mousse try crystal cores of every attribute, but Mousse couldn’t absorb them.
So he gave the crystal cores to Mousse as ornaments, to play with as marbles, to skip across water—anything was fine.
He planted more mutated plants for Mousse, sending him new flowers and fruits every day.
Mousse didn’t like white clothes, so he replaced all the clothes in Mousse’s wardrobe with a riot of colors.
However, the expression on Mousse’s face when he opened the wardrobe didn’t seem very happy.
Even after doing so much, Aix still felt insecure.
Mousse had been too close to him recently, which was paradoxically less reassuring to Aix than his previous cold and resistant demeanor.
The nicer Mousse was to him, the more he felt he needed to give, otherwise this ‘niceness’ would completely disappear.
He couldn’t bear such a price.
After a month of such days, Aix received news from the base.
They had heard about a suspected psychic ability user.
In Haicheng.
Psychic… ability user.
This was the answer Aix wanted least.
Yet it was the only answer.
That evening, Aix casually told Mousse that he had accepted a mission and needed to leave the base for a while.
“A week to half a month. I’ll be back as soon as possible.”
Aix said, his eyes lowered to the corner of the table.
The dignified Zombie Emperor didn’t dare to look people in the eye when lying.
Mousse sighed in his heart.
The mutated plants had already told him everything.
Perhaps even Aix didn’t know that the root systems of the mutated plants spread throughout the entire base. There were no secrets in this base from him; the only difference was whether Mousse wanted to know or not.
And concerning news about the psychic crystal core, the mutated plants cared even more than Mousse himself.
“I’ll go with you.”
Mousse said.
A direct refusal would definitely not work; Aix might sneak off to do it, or have the zombies outside or even people from the base do it for him.
It would be better for him to follow personally.
He could try to persuade Aix on the way.
Aix opened his mouth, wanting to say something.
Mousse said directly: “When you’re not by my side, I’ll be scared, I’ll be… very lonely.”
Meeting Mousse’s clear gaze, Aix couldn’t say a single word of refusal.
“Okay, we’ll go together.”
Aix thought that after arriving in Haicheng, he would first find a safe place to settle Mousse down and then act on his own. It wouldn’t delay anything.
And he could spend more time with Mousse.
Mousse could guess Aix’s thoughts.
But he didn’t have a good way to deal with it.
He couldn’t restrain a Zombie Emperor with spatial abilities.
Unless he could make Aix give up on his own.
But if words couldn’t persuade Aix…
Mousse thought for a moment and said:
“Bring the mutated plants too.”
His own strength was too weak. If Aix really wanted to do something, he wouldn’t be able to hold him back.
With the mutated plants, it would be much easier.
Although… having the mutated plants bind their own creator sounded magical and unrealistic.
But Mousse had a gut feeling that these mutated plants would be willing to do it for him.
Even if it meant making a move against Aix.
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