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墨書 Inktalez
Anthon's breathing gradually became rapid, his heart pounding violently in his chest, each beat pushing his body to its limit. Though the night around him was quiet, the buzzing of his rapid breath and heartbeat seemed to echo in his ears, growing louder and almost drowning out the sound of footsteps and the night breeze.
Despite trying to distract himself through running, Haohao's shadow seemed to linger in Anthon's mind. This feeling suddenly filled him with intense frustration and anger. He was annoyed at his lack of control over his emotions, irritated that he was so troubled and restless over complex feelings for another man. He mocked himself for being weak, a grown man, yet so deeply troubled by emotional entanglements.
The anger in his heart made Anthon unconsciously quicken his pace, almost running on the track, trying to suppress the restlessness and anxiety in his heart with more intense physical activity. Each step landed with more force than usual, almost trying to stomp all the anger and frustration into the ground.
However, the more he tried to escape these chaotic emotions, the more Anthon felt they were following him like a shadow. His body gradually felt overwhelmed, the running made his lungs burn, and the pain in his knees became more and more apparent. Finally, he realized that no matter how fast he ran, he could not truly escape the troubles in his heart.
Anthon's footsteps quickened on the park's jogging path, each step infused with an almost painful intensity. His body surged forward in the night, as if trying to outrun the chaos within his heart. Tomorrow, he would embark on a journey to Southern Buffet with Haohao, filling him with a mix of anticipation and anxiety—hope intertwined with worry.
As his pace increased, Anthon's thoughts spiraled further into confusion. He repeatedly grappled with the questions that plagued him: What exactly were his feelings for Haohao? Was it merely a deep friendship, or had he ventured into deeper emotional territory? He acknowledged that he held a special fondness for Haohao, admiring his cheerfulness, his determination, and his passion for life. Yet, whether this fondness had crossed the boundaries of ordinary friendship was something Anthon dared not confirm, and he feared the answer.
Every time his foot landed, it seemed to trigger a rapid heartbeat in his mind, causing an indescribable heartache. The rhythm of running should have been regular, but with his emotional fluctuations, his pace became chaotic, with speeds varying, reflecting the turmoil in his heart.
The gentle night wind brushed against Anthon's face, and he felt the sweat soaking his forehead. His breathing became heavier, each breath feeling like an effort to inhale calm air, attempting to calm the excitement within. He didn't want these unsorted emotions to affect his relationship with Haohao. He knew how important their friendship was to him, and he couldn't let his own uncertainty ruin their bond.
Just as Anthon's thoughts were as chaotic as the clouds in the wind, he suddenly stepped on something slippery. It was a pile of reeds by the river, already rotten and soft, emitting the smell of mud due to the autumn moisture and river water. These reeds had lost their former toughness due to the erosion of rain and time, and now they were just a slippery obstacle.
Anthon slipped, completely caught off guard, and his center of gravity suddenly tilted forward. Before his body could react, he felt the force of gravity inevitably pulling his overweight body towards the ground. At that moment, time seemed to slow down, and a hint of panic flashed through his mind, followed by a sense of powerlessness in the face of the impending impact.
With a loud "bang," Anthon fell heavily to the ground, the impact on his chest making it difficult for him to catch his breath. The smell of dust and decay filled his lungs, and the damp, cold reed leaves pressed against his cheeks, bringing a sharp, pungent smell of wet earth. His knees and palms hit the ground, and the pain quickly exploded in his nerve endings, especially in his knees, where the pain felt like someone was striking with a hammer.
Anthon cried out in pain, filled with regret and anger. He angrily wanted to blame himself for his carelessness and the unexpected reeds, but his voice became hoarse with pain. As he tried to struggle to his feet, a stronger wave of pain involuntarily slowed his movements.
At that moment, a gentle and deep male voice suddenly rang out in the night, breaking the surrounding silence: "Are you okay, sir?" The voice carried immense concern and a hint of urgency, warming Anthon's heart. He turned his head with difficulty, only to see a blurry figure standing by the dimly lit track, a stranger who was a fellow runner.
Anthon's face was covered in dirt and sweat, and he struggled to make his voice sound steady: "Ah, yes, thank you. I just didn't notice the ground..." His words revealed a hint of embarrassment and gratitude. On this lonely night, the stranger's concern was like a warm light, illuminating his wounded soul. Although Anthon still felt restless, at this moment, he was more grateful for this unexpected comfort.
While Anthon struggled to catch his breath, the male runner slowly approached. The darkness of the night made it difficult for Anthon to see the other person's face clearly, only able to vaguely discern his silhouette. The male runner's voice was deep and gentle, like a faint whisper in the night sky, carrying an imperceptible tinge of sadness.
He stood quietly beside Anthon and said softly, "During the autumn and winter... the reeds here often wither on their own, leaving many dead branches and leaves, making it particularly slippery. You don't usually run here, do you? It's actually quite dangerous here."
Anthon listened to the voice of the other person and felt a kind of inexplicable comfort. He raised his head, trying to see more clearly the stranger who was comforting him, but the dim yellow light of the night and the street lamps only allowed him to see a blurry silhouette. He coughed, adjusted his sitting posture, and tried to alleviate the pain in his body.
"Yes, I don't usually run around here. Today... I just wanted a change of scenery," Anthon said with a hoarse voice, trying to hide his embarrassment and pain. "Thank you, I will be careful."
male runner seemed to nod slightly, then took out a bottle of water from his running waist pack and handed it to Anthon. "This should make you feel better," he said. His actions were full of thoughtfulness and care, as if this kind of night and this kind of encounter were prearranged.
Taking the water, Anthon felt a warmth flow through his heart. He took a deep breath, grateful for the comfort brought by this stranger runner on this cold, quiet night. The two of them, surrounded by reeds and the topic of running, began a brief but extraordinary conversation in the night.
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