Let our shadows stay together

Our tomorrow

The feet are being touched so gently and carefully that Xiè Lián feels as if they are showered with velvet orchid petals and swan's down. Images slip through his memory: the cabin of a charter jet, then he seems to fall asleep... then his cheek leans against Huā Chéng's chest, which is as hard as Carrara marble, but he is dozing and perceives everything like a sweet dream. Even now his eyelids are heavy, and his whole body is so limp that it seems weightless. And yet he opens his eyes.

The dimmed light gives a vague idea of the situation. But he is definitely sitting, or rather reclining, in a rattan chair, pillows tucked under his sides and his back, and Huā Chéng is sitting on his knees at his feet. His long fingers gently knead every muscle and every joint, and then take turns washing Xiè Lián's feet with warm and fragrant floral water.

Xiè Lián watches with awe as the black hair, combed back with a side parting, sways. Sharp cheekbones, as if carved from the same marble as his strong chest, become higher — Huā Chéng stretches his lips in a barely noticeable smile. Xiè Lián hears a deep and gentle:

"Already awake, Your Highness. Nice. We're going to have dinner now."

A look full of adoration meets Xiè Lián's slightly worried gaze:

"Where are we?.."

"Where we wanted to meet."

"Ah…"

Huā Chéng, of course, understands the reason for his confusion. He takes Xiè Lián's hand and brings it to his lips:

"I hired a villa for us. It's just the two of us here. For 500 meters nobody is around."

"Oh... was it worth spending so much for one day? We could do with a hotel room."

"Why for one day? I was hoping to spend a month together... if you don't mind and don't get tired of my company."

I didn't mishear that, did I? A month? Did he say... a month?

Xiè Lián's eyelashes flutter like butterfly wings. Huā Chéng takes a soft towel and gently wipes his feet, and then puts light slippers on them — exactly to fit Xiè Lián's foot. He puts his chin on Xiè Lián's knees, covered with a robe cloth, and with adoration, through a dark plum squint, looks at his beloved deity.

Xiè Lián puts his hand on a hard cheek, under which it does not become softer, but it seems to warm up. He bites his lips, not knowing whether to tell Huā Chéng about his experiences. But the latter notices everything himself. After kissing the sharp knees, he presses his cheek to them, wrapping his arms around the graceful legs of his beloved.

"No need sitting at my feet, Hua Cheng... Get up."

"And to me, no matter how many years have passed, everything is not enough… I am ready to be at your feet forever, worshiping and loving you alone, Your Highness."I

"In slippers and a dressing gown... what kind of Highness am I," Xiè Lián laughs softly with the lilt of a gentle bell.

"And to me there is no difference — whether you are in gold, imperial clothes ... or in a simple robe — only you are important. Always. Ever since your divine hands and the noblest heart in the world saved me from dying on the cruel earth."

"Huā Chéng…"

No. He won't tell him. This is nonsense. A bad dream. And period.

The scenery is changing. They are together on a wide bed. Xiè Lián feels the purple silk of the sheet with his stomach when Huā Chéng practices calligraphy on his back as if on a snow-white canvas. Only the ink is invisible, and instead of a brush, Huā's thin fingers.