𝑴𝒊𝒏𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒄𝒍𝒂𝒊𝒎

𝑩𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅 𝒃𝒚 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒎𝒕𝒉

                 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐁𝐈𝐍

I lay there, side by side with Hao, the space between us filled with the quiet rhythm of his breathing. The warmth from his body seeped into mine, making it harder to resist the pull to get closer. His scent—peach blossom and vanilla—drifted around me, intoxicating in its softness.

I watched him sleep, his face relaxed, free from the usual tension that haunted him. His lashes fluttered softly with each shallow breath, and for a moment, I let myself forget everything else. The world outside didn’t matter here. Just the two of us.

God, he’s beautiful.

I couldn’t help but reach out, my fingers barely grazing the side of his face, pushing a strand of hair behind his ear. The softness of his skin was almost too much, and I drew my hand back quickly, not wanting to disturb his peace but feeling the need to touch him again.

The way he trusted me—allowed me to stay, to lie next to him—it did something to me. Something deep. I didn’t expect it to feel like this.

I shifted, pulling my arm beneath my head as I turned toward him, my body close enough that I could feel his warmth without touching him directly. Is this what I want? To be here with him like this?

His presence was overwhelming in a way that made it impossible to think straight. My mind raced with thoughts of how easily I could pull him closer, how easily I could slip my arms around him and never let go.

But I stayed still, forcing myself to calm down. He was asleep, vulnerable in a way I hadn’t seen before, and I didn’t want to ruin that moment with my desperation.

I let out a slow breath, closing my eyes, letting the steady rise and fall of his chest lull me into a state of calm. Maybe this was enough for tonight. Just being here with him.

For now, I could pretend that everything was simple. That I wasn’t slowly falling into something I couldn’t control.

But deep down, I knew I wasn’t going to let him go. Not now. Not ever.

The first light of dawn slipped through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room. I stirred, the cool air brushing against my skin, and felt the familiar weight of Hao’s presence beside me. His body was curled slightly toward me, as if subconsciously drawn to the warmth I provided. For a brief moment, I just stayed there, watching him sleep, a quiet part of me wishing that time would stand still.

I could feel the pounding in my chest, a beat I hadn’t quite been able to escape since I had entered his world. Everything felt different now. I used to watch him from a distance, studying him through hidden cameras and stolen moments. But this... this was real. He was here, beside me, asleep in my arms, and I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt this content.

Hao’s breath was soft and even, and for the first time, I could see the peace that had always eluded him. No forced smiles, no pretending to be fine. Just him, vulnerable and serene, in the quiet safety of my presence.

I moved slowly, trying not to disturb him. My arm that had unconsciously draped over his waist was still there, resting lightly on his side. The weight of it felt right, like something I could never take back once I’d allowed myself to feel it.

As I shifted to look at the clock on the bedside table, I felt a knot tighten in my stomach. It was too early—still early enough for him to be asleep, but I didn’t want to wake him. I hadn’t planned on staying the night. But here I was, in his bed, with no intention of leaving anytime soon.

I let my gaze drift back to his face. The way his lips parted slightly as he slept made my pulse race. I knew I was falling for him, in a way that was both terrifying and exhilarating. I had crossed a line when I stayed last night—no longer just the person watching from a distance—but someone who had placed himself right there, in his world, his space. And it felt like the beginning of something that couldn’t be undone.