For roommates, they were extremely close. People around them, friends, acquaintances and even random strangers commented on their relationship.

 

“Why don’t you date already? You guys are like a little, old married couple!”

 

Xiaolu and Shixun were complete opposites of each other. Xiaolu was tiny, soft and cunning while Shixun was tall, broad-shouldered and clueless. But somehow they just worked, like apples and cheese, they were weirdly perfect for each other.

 

Maybe it’s the way they spend their Saturday evenings curled up on the couch watching historic dramas or the hand holding in public. They have even been dubbed the modern day Emperor Ai and Dong Xian, without all the tragedy and corruption.

 

The pure platonic relationship they had was something that neither would trade for the world and they were content living together just like this, in a tiny apartment, raising their family of cacti and succulents.

 

-

 

It’s a terribly rainy day, where the normally smoggy sky is darkened further with heavy clouds, full and bursting with water. The pitter-patter of raindrops against the window soothes Xiaolu’s racing mind, almost lulling him to sleep until Shixun starts moving in his slumber, long limbs haphazardly draping over Xiaolu’s lithe body. Smiling at his giant friend’s ugly open-mouthed sleeping face, he places the spindly arms back to Shixun’s sides.

 

Deciding that he will not sleep in any longer, he gets out of their bed and walks over to the window. He smiles adoringly at the tiny potted plants lined up on the sill, spritzing them with a bit of water. He admires the now shiny dark green leaves tinged with purple and the fuzzy, droplet covered surfaces of their babies. Staring listlessly out the window, Xiaolu apparently doesn't see Shixun looking at him in the same way that the smaller looks at the plants.

 

That’s my best friend over there.

 

Shaking his head to dispell the sappy thoughts, Shixun creeps up behind Xiaolu, ready to scare the pants off him. Swiftly approaching Xiaolu’s small back, arms stretching out to grab his narrow shoulders. Shixun, smiling widely and almost at the moment of impact. Xiaolu suddenly whips his head around brandishing their sharpest cactus screaming. Shixun, now also screaming, promptly falls on his flat behind.

 

“Ha! You thought you could sneak up on me? Baichi , I could see you the whole time in the reflection of the window!” Placing Jian (the cactus) back on the window sill, Xiaolu stands over Shixun, smiling wickedly. “Maybe if you immediately came at me instead of staring at the plants you would have been successful.”

 

Grabbing his tall friend’s arm, he hauls Shixun up with surprising strength from such a little body. Xiaolu has always been stronger than Shixun despite their size difference. Together they shuffle to their beige tiled bathroom, Xiaolu’s arm hooking Shixun’s.

 

Brushing their teeth, side by side, Shixun asks Xiaolu what he wants for breakfast. 

“Jook and youtiao!” Xiaolu replies. Shixun laughs at Xiaolu’s mixing of Canto and Mandarin. 

 

Xiaolu is a native to Beijing, whilst Shixun had moved from Hong Kong for studies. Shixun appreciates the way Xiaolu attempts to mix Canto into their conversations to make him feel less foreign. 

 

Rinsing their mouths, they place the toothbrushes back into the old yellowed Doraemon cup and walk the few steps to their small kitchen. Living in a 25 sqm apartment solves their money problem but doesn’t leave a whole lot of room for the two people living inside. They share a bed and sit almost knee to knee, opposite each other at their dining table. Their constant physical closeness also brings their bond closer as well. 

 

But what if one day he moves out? Is he going to find someone better? Richer? Someone who can afford a better apartment, or even a house for him?

 

These thoughts come across Shixun’s mind every now and then. Especially on dreary days such as these, when the minute holes in the roof make an appearance by dripping right in the middle of the dining table, where Xiaolu is already placing a white and blue porcelain bowl to collect the water. 

 

Being a student living off his parent’s inheritance and a newly employed salary man, Shixun and Xiaolu don’t earn a lot. Living in one of the cheapest apartment complexes Beijing has to offer and sharing rent is a reflection of this. Yet they have come to love the pale blue peeling wallpaper and the horribly clashing orange carpet. Even the slightly musty smell that no amount of incense could get rid of became welcoming.

 

To stave off the depressing aura of the confined apartment, Xiaolu had hung a bright red Fu print over their couch, its shiny gold lettering keeps them both hopeful of a bright future. The highlight of their apartment is definitely their beloved plant family that lives on the surprisingly wide window sill in their bedroom. Echeveria, Aloe, Rosularia, Cereus and Pilosocereus varieties to name a few. Each and every one of them, thoughtfully given appropriate names by the pair.  

 

Shixun looks too big for the cramped kitchen but he makes it work for him. He begins preparing the rice. The smooth hard grains swirl against his palm as he washes the rice. He watches the water turn cloudy white before straining and refilling the pot until the water runs somewhat clear. Adding small chunks of ginger and a pinch of salt, he sets the pot onto the stove to cook. He turns to see Xiaolu feeding a well-worn CD into their stereo. The unique strings of the guzheng fill the air with their nostalgic twang. Shixun closes his eyes briefly, immediately identifying the current track as ‘The Butterfly Lovers’, one of Xiaolu’s favourites. 

 

That night we went to a live guzheng concert I’ll never forget. The sparkle in Lu’s eyes and the slight o his mouth made as he watched. I want to see it again. 

 

“It’s fitting isn’t it?” Xiaolu interrupts Shixun’s train of thought. “The sound of the rain drops really match the composition and pitch of this piece. Even the tempo matches, well the first half at least.” he says wistfully.

 

Shixun nods in agreement, not wanting to stir any painful memories for Xiaolu, turns back to the kitchen. He switches on the small toaster oven and takes the pre-made youtiao out of the freezer. Placing them onto a tiny metal tray, he slides the golden sticks under the heated element. Soon enough the irresistible savoury aroma of youtiao fills the small space, almost as if he were frying fresh ones. Xiaolu hovers over Shixun’s shoulder, watching like a hawk.

 

Ding!

 

The toaster goes off and Xiaolu bobs about restlessly until Shixun finally puts the warm pastries onto a plate. Grabbing them out of Shixun’s hand, much like an owl would snatch a rodent from the ground, with precision and ease. Xiaolu takes the plate to the dining table. 

 

“Wait for the jook Lu! And save some for me!” Shixun sighs at his friend’s impatience. At the same time, Shixun’s heart swells at the sight of Xiaolu enjoying his cooking, even though all he really did was heat it up.

 

I’d like to see you try and find someone who can handle your appetite Lu.

 

Realising that the jook wouldn’t be finishing for a while because of his poor timing, he sits across from Xiaolu. Shixun helps himself to the youtiao, steam still rising off of them, swirling and dancing in the air then disappearing. The knocking of their knees no longer annoying but comforting to them both. 

 

And they sit together. Youtiao mixing with the scent of jook, the perfect pair. 

 

 

-

In case y'all don't know some words here is some really comprehensive translations in order of their appearance in the fic:

Jook 粥 (Cantonese) - rice porridge/congee.

Youtiao 油 (Mandarin) - a savoury, Chinese style donut/breadstick.

Fu 福 (Mandarin) - character for good luck/fortune.

Guzheng 古箏 (Mandarin) - traditional Chinese, long, plucked string instrument.

Please, please let me know if you enjoyed this piece. It's a kind of a longish intro and I hope it didn't bore you to death.