The ride home is awkward, predictably enough, but Zhou Mi tries to make up for it with his eagerness, and Li Xu looks like he wants to say more or do more than just nod helplessly, looks like he and Zhou Mi could carry a conversation better than this if both of them. It gets a little better over the next few weeks, but only a little.

Sometimes Zhou Mi thinks Li Xu can't completely understand the things he says, but he's not so sure if it's the language barrier that's the problem, or if Li Xu is just lost in his own world. He has a habit of staring into space, and Zhou Mi feels like it's bordering problematic when he catches Li Xu with his headphones on and the pot coming to a boil, contents almost overflowing, and Zhou Mi yanks the headphones away from Li Xu's ears, squawking and steering Li Xu away from the oven when Li Xu makes a move to touch the cover of the pot with his bare hands, as if in reflex. Zhou Mi spends the rest of the evening hovering worriedly around Li Xu, and even then Li Xu doesn't notice, content with staring at the TV with unreadable eyes.

"There's something wrong with me," Li Xu tells him, sometimes, in the middle of the night, curled up against him; Zhou Mi can feel his fear almost as if it's his own.

"No," Zhou Mi rasps out, "no, you're fine, don't say that, please don't say that."

"I'm afraid," Li Xu says, taking a deep breath, but doesn't say anything else, and Zhou Mi wants to ask of what, but maybe Li Xu doesn't know the answer either, Mandarin or Korean or whatever. There isn't one but the fear.