Page 64 of From Beijing, With Love

Yang cursed under his breath as he shoved his way through the current of sweaty travelers. His pushing earned him a few choice words and more than a few glares, but he couldn’t care less.

In the waiting room, boarding was well underway, and the aisles were filled with queuing passengers. Yang scanned the empty rows of chairs until he found a familiar figure, hunched over and sitting by himself.

Daniel.

Something broke inside of Yang at this sight of him—frightened, lost, small. Yang had thought he was fine with never seeing Daniel again and made himself believe it, because what choice did he have? He’d used logic and rationale to sweep away the lingering feelings, and it worked.

Until now.

Because there was no logic or rationale behind why seeing Daniel like this made him want to cry.

Composing himself, Yang walked down the row of seats slowly so as not to spook Daniel. He knew it was ridiculous of him to treat a grown man like this, but then Daniel looked up with those big eyes of his, filled with equal parts hazel and helplessness.

“Hey,” Yang said, sitting on the plastic chair. He pivoted his body to shield Daniel from the curious glances of passersby.

“Surprise?” Daniel said with a sad smile.

“Poppy said you two are coming to Xi’an.” Yang returned the smile. “What changed your mind?”

“This.” Daniel took a piece of paper out of his pocket, folded neatly in quarters. Yang recognized the doodle as Daniel unfolded the paper. He had drawn it in the early hours, with Daniel still asleep next to him. He’d wanted to capture his favorite version of Daniel—happy and worry-free. He wasn’t sure why he’d left it for Daniel. This was the type of thing that invited messiness.

“It’s just a silly drawing.”

“Is it?” Daniel stared at the portrait and the words written underneath. My sleep paralysis monster.

“What do you want me to say?” Yang asked, louder than he should. Something unsavory bubbled up from within. Daniel was asking far too much of him. “I asked you to come to Xi’an and you didn’t want to, only to then show up here demanding answers. Is that fair?”

Yang hated the way his voice carried across the room, but what he hated more was the way his words seemed to cut Daniel open.

“Look at me.” Daniel gestured to himself. Despite the air conditioning, his white T-shirt was plastered to his torso. “Look at what a fucking mess I am, and I’m not even on the train yet. I’m not someone who could just say yes to something like this. That’s why I didn’t give you an answer.”

Yang saw their first day together on the Great Wall more clearly now and how hard it had been for Daniel to go on the day trip just a few hours away from the city. How hard it must be for Daniel to be at this very train station right now, committing to traveling across the expanse of China. The limits Daniel had to push. The discomfort Daniel had to endure. How had he not realized this until now?

“I’m sorry,” Yang said, the fight leaving him.

“Don’t be. The only thing I learned on this trip is that I’m the problem.” Daniel grimaced, his eyes downcast. “I fucked up at work. Instead of fixing it, I had a panic attack like a crazy person. Then I fucked off to Beijing just to run away from it all, thinking, stupidly, that I’d somehow connect with my roots, only to be looked at like an alien. A baigui. And Taylor …” He let out a sigh. “He did what he did because it was too exhausting to be with me.”

Daniel glanced up and met Yang’s eyes then, looking impossibly tired and out of answers. “And over the last week, I fell for a guy I just met. What the fuck is wrong with me?”

“Nothing!” Yang wanted to both shake Daniel by the shoulders and pull him into a hug, but he couldn’t do either.

“But hey, at least we got a face-to-face goodbye,” Daniel said, his face devoid of emotions.

He stood up and held out his hand in a parting handshake.

Yang took Daniel’s hand, not sure what else he could do. His mind was still stuck on Daniel’s words—I fell for a guy I just met. Yang didn’t want to go anywhere near these complicated, messy feelings. He’d had them once, and look at how that turned out.

But when Daniel loosened his grip, Yang held on. It had been easier to let go yesterday in the early hours before the sun marked a new day, but the idea of letting go now seemed impossible. He looked down at Daniel’s hand in his, the hard and inconvenient truth hitting him—there wasn’t a world where he got to be with Daniel without the complicated and messy feelings.

“I’m not doing this … saying goodbye. Not yet,” Yang said, his hand holding on tight, as if Daniel would otherwise slip right through his fingers. “Come with me to Xi’an, please?”

Daniel looked at him with weary exhaustion, and Yang felt the ground open up beneath him. Daniel was going to say no to him. Again.

“Why should I?” Daniel asked instead.

Three simple words, uttered in a tone that wasn’t the least bit challenging and with a glimmer of something that sounded a lot like hope. That was what undid Yang—the hope. Daniel had fought his demons to be here, so maybe Yang could borrow some of that courage and fight his own.

Be brave.