mr frank is faithful to love

(FR. Hilde Frank)

For most of Saturday, Hiroshi Kitahara stayed at my house.

After noon, the sky cleared up, and Nozawa was busy preparing afternoon tea just after washing the dishes. He asked Hiroshi Kitahara to watch TV, while I stayed in the kitchen and cleaned up the refrigerator.

"I'll ask Xiao Ke to order it and deliver it. You don't have to do it yourself." I said.

Nozawa nodded and said, "I'll make some cakes, and you can buy the rest."

"Is there anything you want to eat?" I asked.

The sound of the TV could be heard in the kitchen, but I didn't know what program Hiroshi Kitahara was watching. He suddenly called Nozawa out, and I followed suit. I took my mobile phone and was about to call Xiao Ke.

Only then did I realize that there was actually a video of Ethan singing on TV. It wasn't the band's show, but his performance alone. I found the phone from the coffee table.

He didn't deliberately turn his head to look at Nozawa, but he knew that Nozawa must be looking at me. Hiroshi Kitahara said, "Is this singer called Zuo Boyao? I seem to have read the news that he was involved in drugs, right?"

With flour on his hands, Nozawa replied slowly, "This should be an old video."

"No," I hurriedly explained, my voice suddenly became louder, and then calmed down, I said, "That's a rumor, it wasn't him who was arrested, it was someone else from the same band."

I was so nervous that my chest trembled, Nozawa's eyes fell on the TV screen, he slowly turned his neck, and then looked at me with an extremely cold expression.

When I looked at him, I didn't say anything.

Our silence implies confrontation, and perhaps it really stems from not being close enough, so there is no motivation to even have a big fight. Today is not going well. It seems that everything about Ethan is always showing up.

Nozawa didn't blame me directly, and sent Hiroshi Kitahara away in the evening. He was standing by the door in short sleeves and long sleeves, while I was cleaning.

I looked at him, the light was a bit dim, so I said, "Turn on the overhead light."

"Do you feel unhappy when outsiders come to your house?"

Still holding the vacuum cleaner, I answered him, "No, if I wasn't happy I wouldn't have let you invite him at all."

"That's good," Nozawa suddenly curled his lips into a smile, he walked this way, and said, "I have a really good relationship with him, and it can be regarded as asking him to help me see you, insignificant people will definitely won't bring it back."

Nozawa didn’t eat much all day. Although he cooked all three meals, it might be because of his poor appetite or anxiety because of today’s occasion. I put down the vacuum cleaner and said, “I’ll make you a midnight snack. What to eat?"

"Can I order more?" He seemed very happy now, he took my arm and asked.

I said: "Yes, you can order, what do you want to eat."

"I want to eat tomato and egg noodles."

"Do as the Romans do?"

"Anyway, it's delicious, right?"

So, I went to the kitchen to cook noodles, while Nozawa continued to clean up in the living room. He wanted to delete the video he found today, but he came to the kitchen to remind him again, and I said, "You can delete it yourself, the computer in the study is not password."

"Are you really willing?"

I turned my face to look at Nozawa, paused the movement of my hands, and asked, "Do you want to hear the truth?"

The smile on the corner of Nozawa's mouth froze, and he slowly lowered his arm propped on the cooking table, and said, "I want to hear it, but I don't need to, I just want you to know that as your boyfriend, I would like to mention this It's normal to ask, so don't hate me or dislike me."

"No." As I spoke, I started to serve soup. The noodles were not cooked much, but it was still enough for one person.

Nozawa hugged my waist from the side, and I reminded: "Be careful of burning you."

"Why are you so nice," he said with his cheek against my shoulder, "Frank, please don't leave me, I love you more every day, every day."

I took the anti-scald gloves from the shelf and said, "Go out and talk, I'll help you out."

This simple noodle requires skill to cook deliciously. Put the tomatoes twice, once for stir-frying, and once before serving out of the pan. There are a few shallow oily flowers, light orange soup, and a little chopped green onion.

Before eating noodles, Nozawa was about to kiss me. He stood beside the floor lamp, leaned over to kiss me, and said, "Can you love me a little more every day? It doesn't need much, just a little."

Before I could answer, Nozawa curled his lips. He seemed to be about to cry, and he frowned and hugged me tightly.

Said: "I can't hold on any longer, but when I think it's for you, I don't think it's too difficult."

I patted him on the back and said, "You're really nice, really, you're so good at work, you learn everything quickly, and you know how to communicate."

"So...do you like these aspects of me?"

"Yes, you are also very kind, you are good-looking, you can put on clothes, and you like small animals," I reminded Nozawa, "Okay, don't be sad, eat noodles, it's getting cold."

Nozawa and I sat face to face at the dining table. He used the newly bought tableware, ate a few mouthfuls of noodles, went to pour another glass of water, sat down and continued to eat. I know that our life is not sweet, but it is not miserable.

Perhaps in this world, many couples who spend their lives hand in hand are like this.

Difficult issues at work have been put on hold, so there is little free time to think about other things from Monday to Friday. When Nozawa was sick, I was walking from the subway station to home. After nine o’clock at night, he called me, My breathing was messy and I could barely speak.

"Where are you going?"

"I'll be back in seven or eight minutes. What's wrong with you? Are you uncomfortable?"

"Yes, my stomach hurts..."

"Is it serious? Do you need to call an ambulance?"

I picked up the phone, raised my hand to look at the time, and then walked home at a faster speed. Nozawa gritted his teeth and replied weakly: "I don't know, why... from the afternoon to now, it's getting worse and worse. It hurts, I feel like vomiting blood, call an ambulance for me, I can’t move now, and it’s uncomfortable to lie down.”

"Okay, I'll be home right away, hold on."

So, I walked in the night and made emergency calls again. When I got home and saw Nozawa, I was indeed frightened. He was curled up on the bed, shaking irregularly all over his body.

The roots of his hair were all soaked in sweat, and the strands of hair stuck to his cheeks. Nozawa's entire face was pale, he reached out and held my fingers, looked at me with hard-to-focus eyes, and said, "I might Really dying."

"The ambulance is coming soon, where does it hurt?" I put my other hand on his stomach, moving slowly, and asked, "Does it hurt here? Or here?"

"No," Nozawa shook his head desperately, then closed his eyes, he was still asking in a daze, "Frank, have you had dinner?"

"Don't worry about me, you're already like this, and you don't care if I eat or not... The doctor will come soon, it won't be serious, don't worry."

This is meaningless consolation, and I don’t know what disease Nozawa has. I wiped his tears with a tissue, and he suddenly squeezed my hand tightly and said, “If I don’t survive, take me back to Sapporo , I want to go back to Sapporo."

"It's okay, the doctor must have a solution."

I started shaking and sweating too, and Nozawa's breath was sickly hot, his ribs kept heaving, and he looked up into my eyes, trying hard to keep his eyes wide open.