It was so cold. There was no way for the snow to melt. Numerous snowflakes found their way in the whirling icy wind outside the French window. Holding a hot water bottle in his arms to keep his belly and hands warm, Eric was sending messages on a bird-nest-shaped sofa.

"Your medicine is still in my car. What about my sending it to you after I get off work?"

Eric typed back with a smile. "Not necessary. I'll go fetch it tomorrow."

He received a response before long. "I called you many times yesterday, but none of them was answered. Is it convenient for you to answer the phone now?"

Eric produced a bitter smile. "I'll go there tomorrow. Let's talk about it later." He wrote back after taking a second thought.

Michael didn't respond. Eric felt exhausted after flicking through the news for a while, thus putting down the phone to take a nap. He didn't wake up until John squeezed his nose for a joke, making him unable to breathe smoothly. Eric opened his eyes reluctantly in a daze. John's face jumped into his sight abruptly, though blurred enough. Bossiness mixed with a tinge of flirtatiousness was indeed a great charm unique to Eric when he was ill. John hadn't seen him like this for three or four years. Greatly touched, he reached out to rub Eric's soft hair. Though sometimes bored by such a relationship, John didn't feel like giving up on him at all.

Eric narrowed his eyes. A lovely dimple would find its way on his left cheek whenever he produced a smile. "John..." Eric murmured, his voice quite soft, typical enough for a man who hadn't fully woken up.

Living in Chicago for that many years, John managed to speak just the same as the locals did without even the slightest accent. Yet, as stubborn as Eric was, he refused to make a change but never failed to demonstrate his innate softness when it was necessary.

Eric had fallen asleep again when John regained his consciousness. Helpless enough, he covered Eric with a blanket before heading back to the study. His phone kept vibrating on the desk. It was Kyson again. John couldn't help feeling a little fidgety.

As a rich, handsome playboy, it was natural for John to find amusement when the occasion arose. There were many attractive men eager to accost him in the nightclub. One night stand was, to some degree, much more fascinating than bedding your lawful wife. Eric was great but far from enough to satisfy his evil passion on the bed. John felt reluctant to "torture" Eric like this but happy enough to vent his primitive desire on others. Anyway, those cheeky guys would certainly be cooperative.

Infidelity would turn into a habit. Out of guilt and panic, he would try hard to cater to Eric in the first place. Yet, the guilt would subside as time went by. John, who also tried to disguise his wrongdoings with excuses at the beginning, didn't mind that Eric would quarrel with him after finding out his affairs. At most, he would be locked up and finally submitted. However, Eric was actually blind to what he did outside. Pissed off by his seeming calmness, John wound up being more abandoned recently.

Yet now, nervousness began surging inside John. He knew from his instinct that Eric was quite resolute about something, but he somehow felt that Eric, as weak as he seemed at the moment, would disappear at any time.

Not wanting strangers to visit his home, Eric always did the housework on his own. Badly ill in the morning, he hadn't washed the tainted sheet in the laundry basket yet. Seeing the dotted blood on it, John couldn't help feeling slightly panicked.

Eric was sensitive to pain, not out of timidity but of his poor health. No matter how minor the wounds were, scars would find their way on his body. John remembered clearly that Eric kept trembling out of pain the first time they made love, but he would rather endure silently. "John, you must treat me well..." he whimpered, out of breath, his sparkling eyes like clear, ripping springs.

A sharp pain shot up John's chest without warning.