[L Yue] Give me a forever lie

Ryuzaki asked me to sit in his room when he was writing, and he said it made him more inspired.He insisted on being so willful, so I had to wait for him to finish typing every day before going to bed.Why on earth should I play his muse and reader?Maybe it's because he said that I was the first person he wrote in the novel, maybe it's because he said that I gave him inspiration-and I know all the reasons.It's a sin to be good looking.

If a reader reads a novel and a diary at the same time, which one will he take seriously?

I read this and said to him, he was too romantic.Readers need only look out the window at the seasons to see the truth.As for whether the other story is false or not, it doesn't matter to them...I'm pretty sure the readers of detective stories only care about an answer.

He asked me, "What about you?"

I smiled at him, that's a really good question.In the novel, I live a life in exile and just want to return to reality.In reality, I was bored and moldy.I said to him with some sarcasm: "You really made up a tear-jerking life experience for me. In reality, my family is happy and happy. There is no chance for such a story to happen, and there is no choice at all."

"The novel is written like this just to add drama." Ryuzaki said dullly.

"Is it true about yourself?" I asked him.

"If you think it's true, then it's true."

I took a book and lay on his bed.This bed is very soft and wide, and it won't be crowded if two people sleep on it. This should be the most important piece of furniture for Ryuzaki.While turning the pages of the book, I could hear him typing on the keyboard intermittently.The long summer is coming to an end, and this night is both silent and restless.I recalled the occasion when we started going in and out of each other's rooms, but I couldn't remember the little things.I was struggling to read that book. I unconsciously covered my face with the book. I knew it was not my bed, but I fell asleep easily.

In the middle of the night, I woke up from the heat, and what I felt was Ryuzaki's sticky back against me.The distance between us is indescribably close.I tried to turn over, only to realize that he had squeezed me to the side of the bed, half of a thin blanket was on both of them.The fan on the window sill was caught by the curtains, no wonder I felt no wind at all.I sat up and a hand grabbed my arm.

"Mr. Yue."

For a moment I wasn't sure if Ryuzaki was dreaming or awake.Still turning his back to me, he asked, "Are you leaving?" I asked him if he wanted me to leave or to stay.

Ryuzaki asked, "What is love to you?"

...I can't understand his jumping thinking.

Ryuzaki buried his head deeply in the pillow, and said very academically: "It is said in the book that there are three elements of love. Passion, intimacy, and commitment. Only when the three elements are complete, can there be perfect love."

"The perfect love doesn't exist," I said in the most ruthless voice, intending to end the subject.

"You didn't intend it to exist."

I said, "Okay, Romance Novelist L. Let me go and turn on the fan."

L suddenly turned over, sat up all at once, and quickly threw himself into my arms.Before I could react, he kissed me hard on the cheek.I was just stunned.When I looked at him again, he showed me a big smile in the dark night.Anyway... I forgot about fans and love right then and there.That laugh was like lightning on a summer night, and then my brain was crushed by a thunderclap.

Of course I understand that Ryuzaki likes me, if he doesn't like me, how could he call me into the room.Even if you stare at his work progress, you can see that he is distracted.But knowing and liking are two very different things...

My mind started to get confused when I wrote this place, no wonder humans have invented countless ways to describe and sing about love, but now I realize that words cannot touch the essence of love.Don't expect my pen to record my feelings at that time for things that humans have been unable to accomplish for dozens of centuries.If I really said it, what I thought at the time was actually simple and straightforward: Ah, Ryuzaki is so cute.love him.

Of course I fought back, relying on my own experience to win a big victory.

Later, I kept wondering what kind of characteristics I was attracted to by Ryugasaki. It was not until I reread the novel that I finally understood a little bit.Love is fantasizing about each other, it is dancing on a tightrope, it is constant testing, it is doubting, it is playing.Besides, being in love makes a man a poet.I kind of can't look straight at what I've written.

After that, he spoke about his past for the first time.

He stayed in that orphanage until he was ten years old. The place was one of the shelters after the war in a certain country. The conditions were very poor, and the children were managed like an army.In that place, emotion is like a luxury.After he learned all the necessary knowledge for life there, he escaped quietly alone.Since then, he has no identity and name, and no fixed place to live.He doesn't even use his name from the orphanage, calling himself "L".He also tried many jobs before finally deciding to make a living writing novels.He hates crowds because past experiences have made him resistant to humans.

That's when I realized he might not be having an easy time.He wrote that life is like a war, the kind of war that makes you dread tomorrow, but you can't escape from reality.In addition to precarity, there is also severe pain.You never know when the next big blow will come, when you will be completely defeated.You can only stand up and face it all, maintaining a little dignity and a bottom line.

I obviously grew up in a happy family.He should have envied and hated people like me, but he didn't.He was looking for excess love in me, for that heavy burden that I wanted to pass on.The care I pay subconsciously is actually what I am most tired of and want to get rid of at home.For the first time in my life, I was loved in this way, not because of looks and transcripts, but simply because he needed me.

That's why I'm so sad.

I don't provoke those girls anymore, in fact, I didn't provoke them before, but they always come.The dating of middle school students is usually a small game of comparing and showing off each other, or a commotion under the action of youth hormones.Thanks to Ryuzaki, I passed that stage.

I tried to reconcile with my family and was forgiven without penalty.

I got to know Watanabe, Ryuzaki's editor, a kind-hearted old man.We even paid a visit to his house later to taste his own cakes.

I reread Ryuzaki's novel.

"Have you thought about what to do next?" I asked him.

"No, this novel was originally written just for you." He replied.During these days, I can suddenly feel the inadvertent tenderness in Ryuzaki's words.

"A detective story needs a trick, right? The season is specially set in winter, is it to use some kind of trick that can only be used in winter?" I asked him. "For example, the footprints in the snow, the timing of the corpse's death, etc..."

"Well, that's really the intention. But it's not fun to be guessed."

"You won't change the plot suddenly, will you?"

"No, I've already written the next chapter."

We chatted casually, and we ended up in his room again.In the middle of the night, we were woken up by sirens from downstairs.

The harsh beam of the flashlight shone into our room.Ryuzaki sat up and stared at me for a long time as if frozen.Neither of us spoke, waiting for the men to come upstairs and surround us.

Everything is like an illusion.