daomingsi, dongshancai.

dialogue

"Admit it. You've never thought of me as a real man."

She was silent, looking away, and he closed his eyes and sighed brokenly. It felt like her heart was breaking, as well.

"You. . . God, I thought. . . equal—!" His eyes flew open and his burning gaze almost made her falter and give in.

But it wasn't just about him and her anymore.

Don't do it. Don't break.

Do not give in.

Don't. . . don't think of his beautiful smile, or how he's really just a child at heart that only you can protect.

Shancai looked up to the sky, willing her tears to roll back in. It was deathly quiet, save for his heavy breathing, which stood out sharply in contrast.

Do not think of how he's said he loves you, more times than you can even remember(although you're sure if you thought about it a little more, you'd know the exact number, because secretly you've been keeping count). . . And how you're starting to feel that 9/10 of love filling to the brim whenever you see him.

He was still looking at her, waiting for a response to his question that he already knew the answer to. She bit her lip and looked down, away from him, instead of saying anything—trying to drag the inevitable down to the very end.

Though, to be honest, saying you'd loved him 1/10 of how much he'd loved you was just so he wouldn't see that you loved him so much more than that, so much that it was scary to even comprehend or understand, so much so that. . . it could make you forget about everyone and everything else.

And that was the problem.

"It's not just about you," she finally said, her heart twisting painfully as she said so. "There are other people involved—"

"But—"

"Let me finish, Daoming Si." She took a deep breath. "I can't risk the people I love, my friends, getting hurt, because of. . ."

"What? Because of what? Say it. Say it, Shancai."

His eyes glowed fiercely like embers, for once, his anger was directed towards her. They were extremely close now, she could just lean in and their lips would be touching. The thought reminded her of what a mess she must look, her cheeks flushed and her usually stick straight hair chaotic and ruffled.
And why? Because of his presence, and the things it did to her. This could not keep happening. It would not. She snapped.

"Fine! I was just going to tell you! I can't risk the people I love getting hurt, because of. . . because of your mother!" Her tone was defiant, daring him to contradict her. But he was ready with an immediate response.

"My mother! How can you not trust me enough to think that I don't know that, that I haven't already found a way for both of us to be together! She's my mother! I'll make her understand, I'll find a way." He paused, breathing hard, then put a gentle finger on her chin, forcing her to look at him. She could feel a heavy lump in her throat forming at his expression. "I. . . I would always find a way for you."

"Stop it, Daoming Si. And don't look at me like that."

"Like what?" For the first time that dreadful evening, he smiled, almost smirking.

It flustered her.

"Just. . . like—like that!" She closed her eyes for the second time, then opened them after taking a deep, calming breath. "That is not the point."

"What is it, then?"

"The point was that, whatever this is," she motioned between them. "Is not happening. F—for the aforementioned reasons. Do you understand?"