In the stillness of the night, Chen Ke stirred slightly, her mind clouded and heavy. The familiar ache of stress pressed down on her chest, and for a moment, she felt trapped in the same spiral she had been living through for the past few weeks. Work deadlines, meetings, and the suffocating pressure from her father swirled in her thoughts—each moment she endured without Danni by her side chipped away at her.
Her tears began to fall again, unbidden and uncontrollable, just as they had every other night. Even the alcohol couldn't blur the memories. No matter how much she drank, the weight of everything returned when the silence of the night set in. The crushing loneliness. The endless demands. The feeling of slipping further from herself.
Chen Ke sat on Danni's bed, her knees drawn up, as the memories flooded back. She felt the exhaustion of trying to meet everyone's expectations, yet failing herself. She remembered the long hours spent at work, the empty apartment she returned to, and the suffocating sense that she was losing the only part of her that mattered—her connection with Danni.
She didn't even remember arriving at Danni's house, only the vague recollection of getting into the cab. Her heart had simply led her to the one person she needed most. And now, in the quiet of Danni's room, the floodgates broke open. "I... I don't know how to keep doing this," she whispered through her sobs, as if confessing her struggle to Danni and herself.
Danni sat beside her, her heart breaking at the sight of Chen Ke unraveling. "I'm here, Ke Ke. You're not alone." She reached out, brushing away Chen Ke's tears and pulling her close. Chen Ke clung to her, crying into her shoulder, as if Danni's warmth was the only anchor keeping her afloat.
Every sob from Chen Ke was a reminder of how deeply she had suffered in silence. Danni whispered soothing words into her ear, holding her tighter with each breath. "I'll stay with you, Ke Ke. I promise."
Chen Ke's sobs grew louder, her entire body trembling as she clung to Danni, as if letting go would shatter her completely. "Don't leave me, Danni... Please, don't leave me," she pleaded, her voice cracking under the weight of fear and exhaustion. "I'm so scared... I can't do this without you. I think—I think I'm failing you."
Her confession hit Danni like a wave, cutting through her heart. Seeing Chen Ke, usually so composed and strong, now reduced to this raw, broken state made Danni's chest tighten painfully. "Ke Ke... No, no, you're not failing me," Danni whispered, tears streaming silently down her face as she cupped Chen Ke's tear-stained cheeks. "You could never fail me."
Chen Ke buried her face in Danni's shoulder, her tears soaking into Danni's shirt as she gasped for breath between sobs. "I tried... I tried to be okay without you, but I can't... I feel like I'm losing everything... including you."
Danni's arms tightened around her, pulling Chen Ke as close as possible, as if her embrace could shield her from all the hurt in the world. "I'm here, Ke Ke. I'm here. I'll stay. I'll never leave you. Not now, not ever."
The sincerity in Danni's voice wrapped around Chen Ke like a lifeline. And in that moment, for the first time in a long while, Chen Ke felt a sliver of safety, as though the storm raging inside her had found shelter in Danni's unwavering presence.
Danni kissed Chen Ke's forehead gently, her tears mixing with Chen Ke's. "We'll figure everything out together," she whispered, her voice breaking. "You don't have to carry all this alone. I've got you, Ke Ke. Always."
Chen Ke's sobs gradually softened, though her grip on Danni remained tight, as if afraid she might vanish. But Danni stayed, holding her through the night—through the fear, the pain, and the exhaustion—until Chen Ke's breathing steadied, and she finally drifted into a fitful but much-needed sleep in Danni's arms.
